Page 144 of Mountain Daddy (Mountain Men #2)

Kendra

Headlights fill my rearview mirror as I slow, the sign for Lonely Peak Vet Clinic just up ahead.

The rain has slowed to a steady stream rather than a downpour, but my body is still tense with stress as I turn into the small parking lot.

The headlights follow me. And as I pull into a parking spot, I look over as the truck parks in the spot next to mine.

Luther’s truck.

He’s here.

I start crying all over again, choking on an inhale.

I’ve learned my lesson.

I don’t want to do the hard things alone anymore.

And Luther is here, so I don’t have to.

Turning off the engine, I push my door open as Luther rounds the back of his truck, meeting me at the side of my car.

I’m soaking wet. A total mess. But Luther doesn’t stop walking until our bodies collide and he wraps me in a hug.

Tears fall from my eyes as worry and relief war inside my chest.

Luther presses a kiss to my head, then grips my shoulders and steps back. “It’s going to be okay. Okay?”

I swallow and nod. “Okay.”

He looks through the rear driver-side window.

Buddy is there, wrapped in a towel I snagged off a shelf in the garage before settling him onto the back seat. His broken leg is sticking out the top of the towel, so there, hopefully, wouldn’t be any pressure on it.

“Grab your purse.”

Following directions, I turn back to my open door, reach across to the passenger seat, and grab my things. The bag of coffee reminds me that I left the other one lying in the driveway.

I hear the rear door open, and by the time I stand back up, Luther has Buddy in his arms.

The little guy is awake but looks dazed.

“If you bite me, I’m going to be pissed,” Luther tells the fox, then looks at me. “Get the doors.”

Happy for the task, I push both car doors shut, then hurry ahead to the front door of the vet clinic.

A few other vehicles are in the parking lot, and as I hold the door open for Luther, another pickup turns into the lot.

I was too frantic when I was searching for a vet in my GPS, so I didn’t take the time to read if this is really an emergency vet or if it’s just a regular vet, but I have to believe Luther when he said they’d take care of Buddy.

Following my boys inside, the cool air sends an instant shiver through my body.

I internally curse myself for not already packing my overnight bag because I’m going to need a doctor, too, if I stay in these wet clothes for hours.

“Afternoon, how can I…” The woman behind the front desk trails off, eyes widening as she looks at Buddy.

“Our dog was hit by a car.” Luther doesn’t waver. “His leg is broken, and he hit his head.”

A whimper catches in my throat.

I don’t think I told him about Buddy’s head, but Luther must’ve seen the blood for himself.

My poor Buddy lets out a pitiful sound to match my own.

“Sir, that’s, um, not a dog.”

I step up next to Luther and tuck my fingers into the crook of his arm. “Please help him.”

The woman looks at me, then back at Buddy.

Her eyes are full of sympathy, but I know she’s going to deny us.

“Let them in, Brenda.” A deep voice sounds behind us.

I turn, and my mouth opens when I see the hot park ranger striding through the door.

“Ethan.” Brenda’s voice is breathy. And I get it. But I need her to focus.

“Doctor Child is on her way.” Ethan steps up to the counter on the other side of Luther. “I’ll stay as a representative for wildlife control.”

Brenda slides her chair back and stands. “Okay, follow me.” We all start to move, but she holds up a hand. “Just Ethan and the fox.”

“But…” I press my lips together. I want to argue. But I also don’t want to be difficult and have her change her mind.

“It’ll be okay,” Luther tells me. Then he shifts his hold, and Ethan takes Buddy from his arms.

I cling to Luther as I watch Buddy look up at the new human holding him.

But it’s like he knows this is important because he just blinks up at Ethan.

“Be a good boy,” I whisper. Both the man and the fox turn their heads to look at me. “We’ll be right here.”

I swear Buddy nods his head.

Then Ethan turns, and they disappear down the hallway.

Luther tucks his arm against his side, trapping my hand against his body, then he leads me away from the desk to the waiting area behind us.

An older man sits in one of the dozen chairs lining the front corner of the building. The chairs are padded but don’t have arms, and they’re backed up against the large windows, showcasing the gloomy weather outside.

The man doesn’t even look up at us, unconcerned with the scene we created.

Away from the single man, Luther guides me to the stretch of empty chairs that have their backs to the parking lot.

My hand slips free from Luther’s warmth as I take the second from the end.

“I’ll be right back.” Luther smooths a hand over my wet hair, then he steps back.

I stare blankly at the small TV on the wall across from me as I hear the main door open and close.

I drop my purse onto the empty seat next to me, and a few seconds later, the door reopens, and Luther’s heavy footsteps cut across the floor.

He crouches before me, a flannel in hand. “Go to the bathroom and switch this for your wet shirt.”

I look at the soft fabric in his hands. There’s a baseball hat too, with the logo for Rocky Ridge Inn on the front.

He taps the brim with his finger. “I don’t have anything warmer in my truck, but it might help.”

I lift my gaze to meet his.

How different would the last decade have been if I’d had Luther in my life?

If I hadn’t done all the bad alone?

He’s been alone too.

For twenty-six years, he kept his secrets to himself.

My heart squeezes.

I want to be there for him too.

I take in his own wet clothing that clings to his body. “What about you?”

Luther shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

“Your clothes are wet too.”

He shakes his head again. “I run hot. You don’t.”

“But—”

“Don’t argue with me, Baby.” He nods toward the pile in his hands. “Do it for me.”

Sighing, I take the clothes. “Thank you.”

With his hands empty, he lightly rests his palms on my thighs. “Are your knees okay?”

I look down at the wet denim and the streaks of dirt covering my knees.

I swing my feet a little, moving the joints. “They’re okay. Just a little sore.”

He sighs like he doesn’t like that answer, but he doesn’t say more.

Luther stands first, then he helps me up.

Now that I’m thinking about them, my knees are a little more sore than I realized. But I keep myself from limping as I cross the lobby to the door labeled Restroom .

With the door locked behind me, I peel my shirt off.

My bra is also wet, and I want to take it off, but I don’t really want to free-boob it in public.

So I grab a handful of paper towels and press them against my bra, soaking up some of the dampness.

Then I repeat the process with my hair, squeezing sections at a time until it’s as dry as I can get it.

With my skin also dry, I shrug the flannel on, enjoying the way it hangs halfway down my thighs as I button it up.

I wish I had dry pants to change into, but my jeans aren’t as soaked as my top half was, so I’ll survive.

I don’t have a hair tie on me, and my hair isn’t really long enough to braid, so I just comb it back with my fingers and pull the hat on.

I grimace at my reflection.

My tits fill out the oversized shirt, but the sleeves hang past my fingers. And the hat covers half my face in shadows.

I look like a mini female version of Luther.

My lips tug into a small smile.

Folding my damp shirt, I hold it away from myself and open the door.

Luther is in the chair next to the one I vacated, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

His eyes were already on the bathroom door when I opened it, and I hold his gaze as I cross the room.

When I near, he sits up and stretches his arm over the back of my chair.

I collapse into the seat, dropping my shirt onto the chair with my purse.

Luther curls his hand around my shoulder and pulls me into his side.

I lean into him.

Lean on him.

He rests his chin on my head. “You look cute.”

My smile is hidden from his view. “Thanks. I was just thinking I looked like you.”

His hand flexes on my shoulder. “I like that.”

I curl my fingers into the long sleeves covering my hands. “Thanks for the shirt.”

I’m still a little cold. But nothing like before.

“Stop thanking me. It’s nothing.”

I pull back enough to look up at Luther from under his hat. “It’s not nothing to me.”

He reaches across with his free hand and tugs the brim of the hat down.

My eyes still sting from crying so much, but I feel the worry loosen its hold on me.

I lean back into his side.

Headlights flash through the windows behind us as we watch a dog food ad play on the muted TV.

A woman rushes in through the main door, speed walking through the lobby and down the hall without pausing.

She must be the vet.

I shove my hands between my thighs to keep from fidgeting.

Luther’s phone rings.

He keeps his hold on me as he shifts around, pulling it from his pocket.

“Hey.” He keeps his voice quiet, even though it’s still just us and the other guy.

I can hear the muted tones of a man speaking on the other end of the call.

“Yeah, I’m with her.” He hums some agreement, and I love the way his chest vibrates with the sound.

“The vet just got here. Uh-huh.” Luther traces circles on my shoulder with his thumb.

“Ethan. Yeah. No. Don’t worry about it.” Luther lets out a loud sigh.

“I said don’t worry about it. No. Yes. She’s fine.

Joe, I swear to fucking god…” I snort at the exasperation in Luther’s tone.

“Yeah, that’s her, laughing at you.” I tug my hands free from my thighs and poke Luther in the side.

He captures my hand and presses it against the top of his leg.

“Bring us coffee. Yeah. Hazelnut. Uh-huh. No, get it hot.” Luther sighs. “I’m hanging up.”

I can hear my dad say something as Luther pulls the phone away from his ear.

But I can’t make it out before Luther hangs up.

“I don’t know how you live with that man.” Luther slides his phone back into his pocket.

“It wasn’t by choice.” I half joke. It wasn’t by choice, but he’s been a surprisingly good roommate. “He’s on his way?”

“Yeah.”

I don’t move.

Not yet.

Luther leans back in his chair and crosses his closest leg over the other, his ankle on his opposite knee and his thigh over the top of mine.

I curl my hands under my chin, my elbows resting on his leg, and relax into him more.

I’ll move before my dad gets here.