Page 50 of Mountain Daddy
And Dad just shrugs when I widen my eyes at him. “Sorry, but he started it with that R-rated noise he was making.”
My cheeks heat because Dad’s not wrong. I’ve heard Luther’s groans, and that was the same sound he made in the motel room.
But still, I can’t pass up an opportunity to harass my dad. “So… you know what Luther’s R-rated sounds are like? Is there something you two want to tell me? Is that what this breakfast is all about?”
Dad sputters for a moment before throwing his head back with a laugh.
Luther lays a hand on my dad’s shoulder with a wicked grin aimed my way. “That’s right, Kendra. I’m your daddy now too.”
I gape.
He. Didn’t.
My dad waves his hands around, taking my expression the wrong way. “No. We’re not—” He’s laughing so hard he can’t finish his sentence. “Rocky and I ain’t like that. Not that there would be anything wrong with that.” He gives me a knowing look.
I roll my eyes. “Thanks, Dad, but I’m not gay. I like men.”
It’s so hard not to glance at Luther as I say the last word. Because I’ve dated. I’ve been with guys. But like I told Luther last weekend, it’s been a while. And I don’t think any of them actually count asmen.Not compared to Luther.
“I’m just saying.” Dad lifts his shoulders, then shoots a glare at Luther. “And it’s a safe rule of thumb to just ignore anything Rocky says. He likes to start shit.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the flannel-wearing hottie says as he serves himself another banana pancake before sliding the last one onto my plate.
I look down, staring at the caramelized bananas.
It’s a simple thing. A chivalrous thing. But it’s more than that.
It’s the same thing he did at the Inn when he ordered us those burgers.
He’s not trying to limit me. Not giving me different food than what he eats.
Not telling me to eat less. Have less. Be less.
And it’s shit like this that makes him even hotter.
Dad thumbs his fist against his chest. “I never really thought about what it’d be like having the two of you together, but I’m starting to think it won’t be dull.” He serves himself the last of the blueberry pancakes. “But back to my original point.”
“There’s a point?” I ask.
Luther snorts.
“Back to my original point,” Dad repeats loudly. “I believe Rocky was moaning and groaning in an effort to say he likes your cooking.”
Luther tips his head toward me. “That’s exactly what I was trying to say. Everything you’ve made is delicious.”
Heat flares in my chest.
“Thank you.” I hold Luther’s gaze as I say it. Meaning it.
“And that’s not for nothing,” Dad adds, and I see a slight wince pass over Luther’s features. “I don’t know if you noticed it, but you would’ve driven past the restaurant Rocky owns on your way here.”
I slowly turn my head to face my dad. “Restaurant?”
“It’s attached to a place called The Rocky Ridge Inn. He owns it.” Dad tilts his head. “Come to think of it, I don’t know if the restaurant has a name or not. We just call the whole placethe Inn.” Dad rattles on. And I slowly turn my head back to look at Luther.
“How. Interesting.” I keep my expression neutral.
I’m not actually mad. We were together for one night with no plans to see each other again.
