Page 76 of Mountain Daddy

“We’re sharing one chair?”

“You said you wanted to sit on someone’s lap.” I start walking.

A large oak tree stands at the edge of the yard, the wide green leaves creating the perfect spot of additional shade. It’s close enough that it won’t look like we’re trying to be separate, but far enough that we won’t be overheard.

My girl follows me across the lawn, and with my back to everyone, I let myself smile.

I can’t believe we just had sex.

Here.

Behind an unlocked door.

With all these people nearby.

There’s a tightness in my stomach. My conscience reminding me that this is messed up. That I shouldn’t be fucking my friend’s daughter, who is twenty-four years younger than me.

I shouldn’t.

I shouldn’t stay the night.

I should walk away now. Before it’s too late.

Before feelings get involved.

Just you.

That tightness travels up to my throat. And my inner voice tells me it’s too late.

Because I already have feelings for Kendra.

Chapter 43

Kendra

My cheeksstill feel warm from telling Luther I wanted to sit with just him. But as I watch him open what is essentially a two-person camping chair, I can’t stop this feeling of levity.

The frame folds out into two connected chairs. An armrest on either side with built-in cupholders, but there’s no center armrest.

We really are sharing one chair.

Luther gives it a shake, making sure it’s on flat land, then he gestures for me to sit first.

I do, taking the left side so Luther will be on my right when he sits.

It’s a typical camping canvas chair. Not amazing but comfortable enough.

My mug doesn’t fit in the cupholder, but holding the handle, I rest the bottom on the armrest while I set my plate on my lap.

Luther joins me, and the frame gives a creak.

Luther is a big guy. Tall and broad and built. And I’m not a small woman.

Sure, next to Luther, I feel dainty, but I’ve never been light. And I don’t want to be a part of a chair collapse.

Not seeming to care, the large man beside me relaxes into the seat, lifting the leg closest to me and crossing his ankle over his opposite knee.

His thigh is practically resting on top of mine, and I have to adjust my plate so he doesn’t smoosh my things.