Page 72 of Mountain Daddy
Holding my hand still, he reaches around from the other side and sets something in my palm.
I close my fingers around the soft fabric.
“It’s a clean kerchief.” He releases my wrist.
Not wasting time, I tug my skirt up, and, like a lady, I pull my thong to the side and use Luther’sclean kerchiefto catch the evidence of our rendezvous.
When I finish and straighten, I feel Luther’s arm against mine. “I’ll take that.”
I ball the fabric in my fist. “No, you will not. This is mine now.”
He hums. “Have it your way.”
I tuck the dirty cloth into my dress pocket. “So, what’s the plan now?” I keep my voice to a whisper.
“I’ll open the door, then we hurry to the fridge and grab an armful of drinks. If anyone walks in, they won’t think twice.”
Not having a better plan, I turn toward the door.
At my side, I cross my fingers, hoping we don’t run into anybody specifically looking for us. Because we were relatively quick just now, but we still disappeared for a questionable amount of time.
“Ready?” Luther asks.
I nod. “Ready.”
A moment of silence passes before Luther pulls the door open, and I step past him into the garage that now feels brightly lit.
It’s blissfully empty and remains that way while we cross in front of my dad’s truck to the fridge.
There’s a cooler out back with beers and sodas, but we grab a pair of bottles with each hand.
While Luther shuts the fridge door, I lift the chilled bottles and press them to my cheeks.
“Warm?” Luther smirks at me.
“A touch.” I lower them so the glass is against my neck.
“Just a touch?” He takes a step toward me. “Maybe I need to try harder next time.”
I shuffle back and to the side. “Hands to yourself, Old Man.”
He lunges, and I let out a shriek as I rush away from him.
The laugh behind me is rich and so full of playfulness it makes my racing heart squeeze.
I cannot fall for this man.
We’re just having fun.
I can feel Luther right behind me as I reach the door, and my pulse soars from his chase.
I pull in a breath to call for a truce when the door in front of me swings open.
The movement is so sudden it has me lurching back a step as I let out a yelp.
I slam back into Luther’s chest, but he’s an immovable object, so the collision stops me from falling.
“Sorry,” the man—one of our neighbors—laughs as he holds his hands up. “Just looking for some beer.”
