Page 52 of Mountain Daddy (Mountain Men #2)

Kendra

At five to noon, I step out onto the front patio.

Luther texted me this morning, telling me to be ready to go at noon.

He didn’t say where or for what, but if he steps foot inside this house, we won’t be going anywhere.

We will only be going to my bedroom. And if I get Luther into bed, there’s a good chance we’ll still be there at the end of the day when my dad comes home.

Which would be bad.

Not even a minute later, I hear his tires on the driveway.

I start down the stairs and walk up to his passenger door as he slows to a stop in front of the house.

Through the window, I can see him reach for his seat belt like he’s going to get out to open the door for me, but I grab the handle before he can do any of that.

“You should’ve waited for me,” he says as soon as my door is open, his eyes jumping all over me, taking in my torn jeans and light blue tank top.

I climb into the truck. “I could’ve waited.” I don’t sit on the seat—I kneel on it. Leaning over the console, I place my hands on his shoulders. “But then I wouldn’t be doing this.”

Luther doesn’t wait for me to reach him. He grips my waist and leans into me, pressing his mouth to mine.

His lips are warm.

And god, I missed him.

I wrap my arms around his neck.

He glides his hands up my sides until his thumbs press against the underside of my breasts.

We breathe each other in.

And it feels like it does every time.

It feels like the first time.

Feels like we’ve been doing this for years.

Like the best thing ever.

It feels like it will hurt when it’s over.

“What if it ends badly?”

“It won’t.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Baby Doll.”