Page 145 of Mountain Daddy

Me: I paid for her school. She doesn’t have a single loan.

Baby Doll: That’s really sweet of you.

Me: Thanks, Baby. But I wasn’t fishing for compliments.

Me: Let me properly thank you for your generosity by taking you out for coffee this week. Wednesday?

Baby Doll: In public? Is that a good idea?

She’s not wrong to worry. But I need to feel like I’m doing something to actually woo her.

I need one normal interaction where we don’t have to hide and we don’t have to pretend.

Me: There’s a coffee shop called BeanBag about fifty minutes from here. I think you’d like it.

Baby Doll: I’ll meet you there.

Setting my phone down, I pull her thong out of my pocket and run the material between my fingers.

Chapter 88

Kendra

Stepping out of my car,I realize that it’s warmer down here than it is at home—higher up the mountain.

I pause for a moment, considering if I should take off my lightweight navy cardigan, but I decide to leave it. The shop could be cold inside.

Hiking my backpack onto my shoulder, I shut my car door and turn toward BeanBag Coffee.

When I plugged it into my GPS last night, to see if Luther’s estimated time was correct, there were lots of hits for BeanBag. But the closest one was forty-nine minutes away, and I confirmed the address with him.

I’m early to our three o’clock meet time, and I brought my laptop so I could do some work while I waited.

But apparently, Luther got here even earlier since I can see his truck parked in the next row over.

All the same, I keep my backpack with me. Maybe I’ll stay a bit after he leaves, enjoy the change of scenery.

I cut across the lot, and my traitorous sandals crunch a twig on the pavement.

I take a deep breath, careful to keep my expression neutral in case Luther’s watching me through the wall of tinted windows.

I haven’t decided when I’ll tell him that Ashley knows about us.

I’ll tell him eventually. I just don’t know if today is the right time.

Our luck has been so bad already. We just need to catch a break for a minute.

The scent of coffee wafts around me as I open the door. And there’s a wooden tinkling sound as I step inside.

Looking up, I see a small rain stick hanging next to the door, and it flips back over when the door closes. It’s a satisfying sound and a much more earthy welcome than a metallic bell.

The place has a cabin feel to it. Wooden tables and chairs, large leather armchairs, and a fireplace that isn’t currently crackling, but I can imagine that it would be in the winter.

A few of the tables have occupants. But only one of them has my man.

A bright kind of excitement fills my chest as I look at Luther from across the coffee shop.

He’s watching me.