Page 94 of Mountain Daddy (Mountain Men #2)

Kendra

Luther shuts his truck door, and I stand, moving down the rest of the steps.

But he doesn’t come to me.

He stays where he is. A few yards away.

And I can feel it.

It’s heavy. And thick. And dark.

“Luther,” I whisper.

It’s a plea.

An unspoken question.

A please don’t do this .

His shoulders drop. “I’m not right for you.”

One sentence.

Five little words.

And every one of them slices through my heart.

He looks down, taking a second, then he lifts his head. And he holds my gaze. “You have your whole life ahead of you, Kendra. You’re beautiful and smart. You have so much to offer. And I have nothing to give.”

“I… I don’t understand.” Moisture fills my eyes.

How did I read this thing between us so wrong?

So incredibly wrong.

“I’ve already lived. I have my daughter. I got to experience raising her. And I wouldn’t change it, but I’m not going to have more kids.” He shakes his head. “And I can’t take that away from you. I won’t make you choose.”

His voice is steady, and it makes me want to scream.

Why is he doing this?

Why didn’t he ask me about kids?

If he asked me, I’d tell him.

I’d tell him everything.

I want to tell him.

I open my mouth. Inhaling.

I can stop him.

Stop this.

But he keeps going.

“Joe’s my best friend.” Luther’s voice finally hitches. “He’s my best friend, and he deserves better from me.”

I close my mouth.

There it is.

The tears finally fall, streaming down my cheeks.

I can’t stop them.

Can’t stop the sliced pieces of my heart from slipping between my ribs.

If it was just about kids…

If that was the only thing holding him back…

But it’s not.

“I won’t tell him. But if you want to, I won’t stop you.” His features twist as he watches me cry. “I’m sorry.”

I lift my shaking hands and press my fingers to my lips.

They’re trembling.

Everything is trembling.

“I’m sorry,” Luther says quieter this time. “Please say something.”

I part my lips to pull in a shaky breath.

Locking eyes at the bar.

His hand on my thigh.

Luther walking through my motel room door.

The first kiss.

The first caress.

My Daddy.

The man sleeping at my side.

Running into Luther in the hallway.

His hand on my throat.

Luther giving me his number.

The first text.

The first phone call.

My Calm.

Hands and mouths and heat and skin.

Him promising that this wouldn’t end badly.

His daughter asking me if I love him.

Him telling me he’s not right for me.

Him choosing a friend over taking a chance.

Him not choosing me.

His fucking promise.

He takes a step toward me.

I drop my hands. “You promised.” I take a step back. “But I understand.”

I understand it all too well.

More tears fall.

“Kendra,” Luther chokes out.

I shake my head as I turn my back on him. “You should go.”