Page 74 of Mountain Daddy
I startle so badly coffee sloshes onto my fingers.
I hiss. “Fuck.”
Before I can do more than curse, Luther is taking the mug and plate out of my hands, somehow having already put his own things down.
“Shit, sorry, Kenny.” Dad rushes over.
“I’m fine. It was just a little hot.” It was more than a little hot, but at least I know the coffee is fresh.
“Here.” Luther steps to the sink and turns the faucet on.
“I’m fine.”
“Kendra, come here.” His voice is stern, and it sends heat rolling through me that has nothing to do with burning my hand.
Dad is pulling an absurd number of paper towels off the roll, not paying attention to the way Luther is bossing me around.
I follow him and stick my hand under the cold running water. “Happy?”
Luther ignores my attitude, gripping my wrist and rotating my hand under the stream.
“How’s it look?” Dad sounds a bit less drunk than he did a moment ago, but he still doesn’t say anything about his best friend touching me.
“A little pink, but not bad,” Luther answers for me.
I sigh. “I’m fine.”
Luther does that humming sound I love so much, then holds my wrist for another few seconds before he turns the water off.
“Thank you.” I catch his eyes as I say it.
Dad shoves eight thousand paper towels into my hands. “You’re welcome.”
Luther clears his throat to cover what sounds like a laugh.
Taking the towels, I rip one off, then fold the rest and set them on the counter.
“Are you two mother hens done?” I ask, using the same single towel to wipe off the sides and bottom of my coffee mug.
They both grunt in reply.
I roll my eyes.
Dad reaches past Luther and grabs the brownie off his plate.
Luther snatches it out of Dad’s hand before he can put it in his mouth. “Get your own.”
Dad huffs. “Sharing is caring.”
“I like you, but not a brownie amount.”
Dad slaps his hand to his chest with a gasp.
Luther hands one of the unclaimed beers to my dad as a consolation prize. “You cool with me crashing on your couch tonight?”
Brownie slight forgotten, Dad opens the beer and slips the cap into his pocket with a shrug. “It’s your back.”
Wait, what?
