Page 17 of Mountain Daddy (Mountain Men #2)

Luther

Jessie’s elbow bumps against mine as she makes a drink unnecessarily close to me. For the third time tonight.

I finally turn to her. “What?”

She lifts her brows. “Nothing. Right, Diego?”

I look over my shoulder, finding our cook leaning against the wall next to the kitchen door.

He holds his hands up. “We don’t got any questions, boss. None about that pretty girl you were cozied up with.”

Jessie nods. “Definitely no questions about how you two disappeared at the same time.”

“Or how your truck was still here when we closed down…” Diego shakes his head. “No questions.”

I release a long sigh. “When you’re not being dumb, you two are smart. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

Jessie hands the drink to a guy across the bar, then crosses her arms. “We get the basics. But we want to know details.”

I make a face at her. “Ew.”

Diego snickers.

“Not like that. Come on, that’s gross.” Jessie pulls the towel from her apron and tries to snap me with it, but I jump out of range.

“You started it,” I say, super maturely.

There’s a pause, then Jessie throws her hands up. “Well?”

“Well, what?” I throw my own hands up, mirroring her position.

“Well, did you get her number? Is she still here? Are you going to see her again?” My sister pesters me.

“She was real pretty.” Diego helpfully reminds me.

I glare at him.

He mimes zipping his lips.

I give up, knowing they won’t stop. “She’s gorgeous. I really fucking liked her. But she’s gone. No number. No last name. Just passing through.”

“That’s a bummer,” someone says from behind me.

We all turn to find Doug, one of the regulars, posted up at the bar.

“Have these two been yapping at you about my business?” I gesture to Jessie and Diego.

Doug shakes his head. “Didn’t have to. I was here.”

“Last night?” I ask.

Doug always sits at the bar. I would’ve noticed.

I think.

“I grabbed a table. You and your lady friend looked ready to combust, and I didn’t want to dampen the mood.”

“Oh. Well, appreciate that.” Living out here, most of our guests are regulars. I just hadn’t thought about it.

In fact, after Kendra walked into the bar, I don’t think I thought of anything but her.

Which wasn’t very professional of me.

Then I remember that I own this fucking place. And whatever grief I might get from customers is worth it.

Just about anything is worth the night I had with Kendra.

And I’d give just about anything to have another.