Page 93 of Mountain Daddy
My girlfriend’s dad.
Girlfriend.
Is that what I am? His girlfriend?
Just in secret?
“Did you ever get caught?” I ask, curious what a teenage Luther would’ve been like.
During the ride over here, we talked about nothing.
What I did this morning at work.
What’s on the menu at the Inn right now.
Nothing. And that’s what makes this feel so right.
I flex my fingers around Luther’s.
We weren’t even out of my neighborhood before Luther placed his hand on the center console, palm up.
He didn’t say anything. No demand. Just the open hand.
So, I did what any sane person would do. I set my palm against his.
And he’s been holding my hand since.
He squeezes my fingers back.
“I had some close calls but was never caught. One of my buddies, though, he got walked in on. Had to run down the street naked, his girl’s dad running after him, screaming his head off.” Luther chuckles, and I have a suspicion.
“Please don’t tell me that was my dad.”
Luther grins. “I can’t lie to you, Baby.”
“Ew.” I try to pull my hand away so I can rub that image out of my eyes, but Luther just holds my hand tighter.
“You shouldn’t’ve asked.”
“Next time I won’t.” I pretend to gag.
The forest ahead of us thins, and we start to drive past buildings. Cabins, a pair of campground bathrooms. More cabins on the other side of the drive.
Then I see another sign. This one is temporary, set up like you’d see on a sidewalk outside a shop.
An arrow points farther into the woods, and two words have me forgetting all about Luther’s story. “Bake sale?”
Chapter 54
Luther
We meetat the front of the truck—Kendra looking around at the towering pines, me resisting the urge to take her hand in mine.
I want to. I want to so badly.
But we’re still too close to home.
And the more I think about it, the more I think this might be a dumb idea.
