Page 25 of Mountain Daddy (Mountain Men #2)

Luther

Act cool.

Act natural.

Act like you haven’t had your dick inside your friend’s daughter.

I clear my throat as I enter the kitchen.

Joe’s distracted, doing something on his phone, so I use the time to pick up one of the two remaining coffee mugs.

They’re both filled with plain black coffee, which is how I take mine, but I’m curious if Kendra adds anything to hers.

Kenny , I remind myself.

I can’t fuck up and call her Kendra when she walks out here. Not until she introduces herself as that.

Will she introduce herself as Kendra?

Will she ask why I introduced myself as Luther?

Do I even have a good answer?

I don’t even know what inspired me to do that in the first place. Everyone calls me Rocky. But when I met her…

When I met her, it felt different.

I didn’t want her to treat me like everyone else.

I wanted it to be different for her too.

Taking a sip of my coffee, I glance toward the hallway.

It should go without saying that we’re never going to tell Joe about this.

Not ever.

Before Joe can look up from his phone, worried he might see some guilty expression on my face, I interrupt whatever he’s doing and ask about our fishing spot for today.

“Uh-huh. I called Fisher last night,” he tells me as he puts his phone in his pocket. “Says it’s still flush with fish .”

He uses the tone he reserves whenever he’s mimicking people younger than him, and I wonder if I sound as old as he does.

Joe has a few years on me. But not many.

Then I hear the unmistakable click of a door opening, and I stop listening to Joe.

I can’t hear any footsteps, but I imagine Kendra walking down the hall barefoot. Like she was a few minutes ago. When I had my hand around her neck.

I clear my throat.

And then she appears.

I get one moment to take her in.

One moment before Joe realizes she’s here.

And Christ. Her new outfit is hardly less revealing than her pajamas.

She’s in cut-off jean shorts and a T-shirt. But the shorts are barely past her ass cheeks and the shirt is so thin and soft looking that it settles on every curve of her body. Not to mention, the white material is practically see-through, showing off the red sports bra she’s wearing underneath.

And with tits like hers, the tight material of her bra does hardly anything to diminish their plumpness.

I grind my teeth.

She’s asking for a fucking spanking walking out here like that.

“Kenny! There you are!” Joe practically shouts when he sees her, as though they don’t live under the same roof.

“Morning.” Kendra’s smile shows a lot of teeth, and I feel slightly better knowing she’s feeling as awkward as I am.

Then I remember her calling me Daddy. Again. And I clear my throat. Again.

Joe crosses to Kendra and places a hand on her back before turning to face me. “Rocky, I’d like you to meet my little girl, Kenny. Or Kendra if she’s in trouble.”

Sweet Jesus, he’s making this worse by the second.

With her dad’s attention on me, Kendra widens her eyes at me as her cheeks turn pink.

I tip my head in her direction. “Nice to meet you, Kenny .” I pause just long enough to emphasize her name. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She inclines her chin. “Same. I’ve heard so much I feel like I already know you.” This little minx. “Though I’ve always wondered, is Rocky a nickname, or did your parents really name you that?”

Joe chokes on a laugh, and I can’t stop my smirk. “Nickname.” I step forward and hold out my hand. She takes it. “Name’s Luther Rockford. But most people call me Rocky.”

She’s giving me a look like I gave her the wrong name on purpose.

But I lift a brow in reply. Luther is my real name.

And it’s not like I kept my identity from her on purpose.

Or at least not for the reason she’s thinking.

Maybe a part of me didn’t want her to know I was the owner of Rocky Ridge Inn while we were sitting in the bar.

But I had no fucking clue she was Joe’s kid.

And there’s no fucking way she can think my reaction this morning was fake.

She flexes her fingers around mine. “Kendra Abbott. No one but my dad calls me Kenny.”

I shift closer.

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m Joe, and no one has ever given me a cool nickname.” Joe mock complains, and Kendra rolls her eyes.

My best friend’s voice reminds me we’re not alone. And that I can’t press my body against Kendra’s to make a point.

I flex my fingers, then let go of her hand.

Remembering the coffee still in my left hand, I move back to the counter and pick up the last mug, holding it out to Kendra. “You take it black?”

Kendra takes it but shakes her head. “I’ll drink it that way if I must, but it’s not my thing.”

I watch her ass as she moves to the fridge. Then I force my gaze up as she takes out a carton of flavored creamer.

She pours a healthy amount into her coffee, and I read the flavor on the label.

Hazelnut. Good to know.

I lean my hip against the wall as Kendra and Joe talk breakfast. Joe asking what he can do to help. Kendra insisting that he’ll help the most by sitting at the table.

They’re having an innocent discussion. I’m staring at Kendra’s thighs. Thinking about how they felt wrapped around my head.

I shift.

Fucking hell. I need Joe out of here so Kendra and I can have a word.

When Joe gives up the fight and moves to the dining table, I push off the wall and grab the coffee carafe.

I hold it up toward my friend. “Top you off?”

Joe slides his mug toward me, and I fill it up.

The more he drinks, the quicker he’ll have to go.

Putting the carafe back, I select the dining chair that will have me facing the kitchen, where Kendra is currently sipping her coffee. And watching me.