Page 20 of Mountain Daddy (Mountain Men #2)

Kendra

I hear the rumble of a vehicle outside as I shuffle down the hall to the bathroom.

Shit.

Hurrying, I step into the bathroom and shut the door behind me.

What is it with old men and showing up early?

I go through the motions of freshening up for the day as quickly as I can. After slapping on some tinted face sunscreen, scented body lotion, and deodorant, I pull my hair up into a short, bouncy ponytail.

As I’m brushing my teeth, I take in my reflection.

Neck up, I look good enough. Neck down, I’m in the same skimpy pajamas I wore the night I slept with Luther, which consists of a strappy tank—that does nothing to support the tits—and matching shorts.

When I turn my electric toothbrush off, I swear I can hear voices.

Double shit.

I need to get back down to my bedroom before anyone sees me.

If I were thinking, I would’ve brought a change of clothes with me. But I wasn’t thinking.

Because it’s Saturday morning. And I should still be in bed.

Taking a deep inhale, I open the door.