Page 36 of Mountain Daddy

Luther.

I sigh as I slow for a turn in the road.

When I first spotted Luther sitting at the bar, my mind instantly flashed with visions of what he’d look like over me.

What he might look like naked.

But I never thought it would actually happen.

And my god, did it happen.

I feel myself smile as I think about all the positions we experienced in just one night.

I’ve never experienced anything like that.

Like him.

Never been manhandled like that.

Never knew I’d want to be.

Part of me is kicking myself for not getting his number. And part of me feels a little guilty for lying and telling him I was only passing through.

But the other part of me recognizes that I don’t need to complicate my life any more than it already is. And picking up a fuck buddy, or boyfriend, or whatever he’d be, on my very first night in town would definitely be a complication to my new start.

But what a great fuck buddy he’d be.

When Luther climbed out of my bed this morning, I felt the loss immediately.

But then I reminded myself that I knew exactly what I was getting into, and his leaving was part of that. So I hugged the pillow that smelled like him, and I fell back asleep, accepting the experience for what it was.

But who knows. Maybe, once I’m settled, I’ll go back to Rocky Ridge Inn and see if he’s around.

I take my foot off the gas as I approach my dad’s driveway.

We’re up in the mountains. An hour away from a major city. Twenty or so minutes away from a little town called Lonely. Rural. But somehow, this cute little neighborhood is tucked away in the trees.

The lots are bigger than town lots, and every house is surrounded by mature trees, so you can be in your yard and not see anyone.

It seems a little goofy, having all these houses near each other when there’s so much unoccupied land out here, but it helps to not feel so isolated.

Even though no one’s on the road behind me, I flip my blinker on, then turn across the quiet paved road into the gravel driveway.

I coast, letting my car slow as I reach the turn in the driveway.

Movement pulls my attention to the side, and I see a blur of red fur disappear into the trees.

“Hey, Buddy.” I smile. Foxes are so cute.

Once I take the turn, I spot the house.

It’s a single-story, three-bedroom, two-bathroom structure with a covered front porch, a larger back deck, and an attached two-car garage.

But none of that is what has me grinning.

It’s the dork on the front porch, holding a row of printer paper taped together, readingWelcome Home Kenny, like I’ve been away on a trip.

I wave my hand out my open window as I stop in front of the house.