Page 4 of Mountain Daddy (Mountain Men #2)

Kendra

I twist the toe of my sandal on the scarred vinyl floor as I feel my cheeks heat.

He caught me looking.

The urge to turn on my heel and head back to my room is tempting.

Very tempting.

But it’s too early to go to sleep. And the thought of sitting in my motel room, sober, thinking about tomorrow, keeps me where I am.

I want to get drunk.

And if getting drunk also includes getting laid by some hot-as-fuck lumberjack… that would also be acceptable.

Forcing my head up, I lift one foot, then the next, determined to sit at the bar.

Four empty stools stand between the pair of couples closest to me and the hot older man at the far end. As I approach the empty seats, I have a decision to make—put one seat between me and hottie, or put one seat between me and the couples.

I keep my gaze on the bar, not looking up to see if the guy is watching me.

Playing it super cool, I stop between the four empty stools.

I could take the one to my right. Putting me closer to the couples.

Or…

I brace one hand on the bar, one on the wooden seat—closer to the hot man—and I boost myself up.

My feet dangle as I lean forward, resting my elbows on the bar.

Immediately, I realize this isn’t a very flattering position. But just as quickly, I push the self-deprecating thoughts away.

Hot guy or no hot guy, I’m not spending the night sitting with good posture, sucking my stomach in.

Fuck that.

I lower my chin into my palm and look over the liquors displayed behind the bar.

A woman stops before me. Her dark brunette hair is twisted up and held in place with a clip at the back of her head, casual to match her jeans, T-shirt, and black apron.

Her mouth pulls into a smile. “What can I get you, hon?”

Her energy has me smiling back as my eyes snag on a short, square, clear bottle. “How about a tequila shot?”

She lifts a brow. “Celebrating or something else?”

A sound close to a laugh catches in my throat. “Something else.”

Remembering the reason I’m here, I sit up.

Tonight is for letting go.

Embracing the bold, I turn my head toward the silver fox. “You want to join me in taking a shot?”

I don’t meet his eyes until I get the words out, and I’m glad for it. Because up close… Christ.

Up close, this man is doing things to me.

His chiseled jaw is covered in a trimmed gray beard, and his matching hair is tussled, like he’s been running his hands through it.

But it’s his eyes.

Those rich brown eyes are looking right into mine.

“You want me to take a tequila shot with you, Doll?”

Doll.

I flatten my palms on the bar for balance.

Yeah, Daddy. I want you to take a shot with me. Off me. Whatever.

I nod. “Seems like something I shouldn’t do alone.”

He turns his attention to the bartender. “You heard the lady. Two shots of tequila.”

The bartender’s gaze bounces back and forth between me and the man. “Anything else?”

The man looks back at me. “Two Coronas?”

“Okay, Papi,” I breathe.

Wait.

No.

I did not just say that.

My mouth snaps shut just as his opens.

I thought my blush was bad before.

I inhale, ready to apologize, but then he drags his tongue across his teeth, and my brain short-circuits.

“Okay…” The bartender drags the word out before rapping her knuckles on the wood between us. “Two beers and two shots.”

“Thanks.” I reach toward my pocket, where my room key and credit card are.

But the man holds a hand up, stopping me. “Put it on my tab, Jessie.”

“What? No.” I look at Jessie, the bartender.

But she’s backing away, hands up. “You two can sort it out while I get those drinks.”

Slowly, the man and I turn to face each other.

God, he’s handsome.

And built.

My throat works on a swallow.

Given the opportunity, I’d cling to those shoulders like my life depended on it.

Wow. I need to snap out of this.

I hold my left hand out in front of me, palm up, and keep my fisted right hand an inch above my open palm. “Play you for the bill.”