Sheriff Daddy (Montana Daddies Book 10)

by Laylah Roberts

  Holding back the truth of what happened to her.

  Her breathing started growing erratic at the thought of having to tell him. What would he think? Do? She shuddered, her stomach turning over nauseously.

  Shoot.

  Taking in a deep breath, she held it and let it out slowly. Eventually, she got her breathing under control.

  Panic attack averted. Back to normal programming.

  Right. Whatever that was.

  A James doesn’t need a psychiatrist to help them face their fears. We’re stronger than that.

  “Urgh, get out of my head, Mother.”

  A door shutting and the sound of footsteps made her freeze.

  Ed. It’s just Ed.

  “Georgie?” he called out. “Georgie, are you all right?”

  She cleared her throat, trying to call out. She was still trembling. She couldn’t let him see her like this.

  Then he appeared at the bathroom door. Too late.

  “Jesus, what happened? You look terrible.” He swiftly moved over to her, and grabbing her around the waist, turned and lifted her onto the counter. “What’s the matter?”

  “Um, nothing.”

  She winced as she said those words, knowing they weren’t going to be well-received.

  “Try again,” he warned in a stern voice. “Because you’re shaking, sweaty, and you look like you’re about to pass out. Plus it smells like vomit in here.”

  Whoops. Gross.

  “You know you’re not going to get away with saying nothing is wrong.”

  “Nightmare,” she whispered.

  “Aww, baby.” He gathered her close or he tried to. She pushed him back.

  Ed gave her a confused look. “What’s wrong?” Then alarm filled his face. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

  “No,” she scoffed. “I don’t think all men are going to hurt me just because . . .”

  “Because what?” he asked dangerously.

  Shoot. How did that just come out? She was normally far more guarded with her words.

  “Because a man hurt you in the past? That’s what the nightmares are about?”

  She nodded miserably. “Yes. But can we not talk about it right now? I just want to forget.”

  “Did you ever talk to anyone about it?” he asked her.

  “A James doesn’t need to seek out help or talk about their issues, they are strong enough to deal with them by themselves.”

  “What the fuck? Who says that bullshit?”

  “My mother.”

  “Shit,” he muttered. “What did I say before about being strong?”

  “That I don’t have to be strong all the time and asking for help takes a lot of courage.” She understood what he was saying. But it wasn’t the way she was raised. What if she leaned on him and then she couldn’t be on her own again?

  “You can talk to me about anything. I mean it. If you want to have a conversation about what feminine hygiene products are best or about some weird bowel movements or which type of dish detergent you prefer, then I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

  “Bowel movements? Really?” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think we need to ruin the romance before it even begins.”

  Interest filled his gaze. “You want romance.”

  “Well, I, umm, I just meant . . . “

  “You want romance,” he said confidently. “You liked my flowers. That’s it. That’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to woo you.”

  “Woo me? What are you? Eighty?” she tried to scoff. But honestly, her stomach was alight with butterflies.

  “Well, what else would you call it when I win you over with my romantic gestures?”

  He didn’t have to win her over. She was well and truly there. She was in deep, and falling further every moment she was with him.

  “You don’t have to do any of that. I already like you.”

  Really? How old are you? Sixteen?

  “Maybe I want to romance you. Maybe I think you deserve sweetness.”

  “You do sweetness?” she asked skeptically.

  “Hey, I can be sweet,” he protested. “Now, tell me why you pushed me away just now.”

  Drat. There went her hope he might leave it alone. “Oh, umm, I stink.”

  He frowned. “What? No, you don’t. And even if you did, I don’t care.”

  “No, I mean, I need to brush my teeth. I threw up and my breath probably smells like vomit and . . .” She trailed off as he scooped her up carefully in his arms, walking towards the door.

  “We need to get you back to bed.”

  “Ed—”

  “I’ll get you a bowl in case you feel ill again.”

  “Ed—”

  He lay her on the bed. “I should take your temperature in case you’re coming down with something. I’ll get the first aid kit. I don’t think I’ve got a rectal thermometer, though. Those are better, right?”

  That definitely didn’t sound better to her. No way was he getting near her with a rectal thermometer. They hadn’t even gotten to second base; did he really think she was going to let him stick something up her butt?

  Not. Happening.

  “Ed,” she said loudly as he drew the covers up over her.

  “What? Do you feel sick again? Do you need the toilet?”

  “Ed, I’m okay,” she told him as he went to pick her up again. Seriously, the guy was going to give himself an ulcer if he kept worrying over her this much.

  “You’re not fine. I thought you looked flushed.” He put his huge hand over her forehead. “Definitely got a fever.”

  “Then your internal thermometer must be off because I’m not sick. I don’t have a fever.”

  “You just said you vomited. Was it the food?” He looked at the plate of food he’d left. She’d eaten a cracker and a slice of apple. She’d meant to eat more but then she’d gotten sleepy. And the bottle of water that was still three-quarters full. “Was something bad? Was that why you didn’t answer the phone? Because you were throwing up? Shit, why did I leave you?”

  Actually, she’d completely forgotten to turn on her phone. But he didn’t need to know that. “It’s not the food. I’m not ill.”

  “Here, have some water, you’ll be dehydrated. I’m going to call Xavier and have him come out and check you over.”

  “Ed! Stop. Listen to me.”

  He frowned down at her. “What is it? I need to get you a sick bowl. I don’t want you getting up to go the bathroom and getting dizzy then fainting. You can just use the bowl and then I’ll empty it for you.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “I should never have left you on your own,” he berated himself. “That mistake won’t happen again.”

  “Ed, I’m not sick. I just had a nightmare. Sometimes, when I wake up after one, I feel sick. It’s happened several times. I promise, it’s not the food and I’m not ill.”

  “You vomited because of the nightmare?”

  “Yes. That’s all. And you can leave me alone. I’m not helpless.”

  “I know you’re not helpless. But it’s not easy to come home and see you distressed and hurting. So upset that you vomited.”

  “I don’t like it either. I promise, there’s no need for Xavier to be called out or a rectal thermometer.” She wrinkled her nose.

  His lips twitched. “Don’t like the idea of something being put into your bottom, Georgie-girl?”

  “No!”

  “Hmm, that’s too bad.”

  What did he mean by that?

  “You want to talk about the nightmares?” he asked, distracting her.

  “No.” She shuddered. “I want to forget about them.”

  “How’s that working out for you?” he asked dryly. “They’ve been coming more often, right?”

  She let out a breath. “I think it’s because I started doing field work.”

  “You weren’t before then?”

  “No, I’ve basically worked behind a desk my entire career. S
omething I’m starting to think was my mother’s doing.”

  “Your mother? How?”

  “She has her ways. She has a lot of power and money. Anyway, I got a new boss and I saw my chance. I presented my case, worked hard to prove I was up to the job.” She licked her lips. “About three weeks after we finished up here, I was given this case. It all went really wrong. We were just chasing down a lead. This kid saw us and must have thought we were there for him. Not sure how he even knew we were feds. He fired at us as we were walking into this building. And I .. .” She clenched her hands together.

  “You what?”

  “Froze. I fucking froze. My first experience of gunfire and I fucking froze. If it wasn’t for my partner, it would have been so much worse.” She cupped the side of her arm. “It was just a flesh wound. Only put me out of commission for a few weeks. But the nightmares started coming more frequently.”

  “You were shot? Fucking hell. I wish I’d known.”

  “Nothing you could have done.”

  “Except take care of you,” he growled.

  Yeah. She’d have liked that. Even if he was a bit overprotective. “So after I was shot, I had to see the FBI’s therapist. And I was back on desk work. I was finding it difficult to get up each morning and go to work. I felt like nothing I was doing made a difference. Like it was Groundhog Day every day, you know?”

  “The therapist didn’t help?”

  She grimaced. “I didn’t like him. He’s kind of old-school and condescending and I hated talking to him. Which wasn’t helping my case to move back to fieldwork. Truth is, I’m not sure I can do it again. I was a hindrance, not a help.”

  “Is that why you’ve taken some time off?”

  “Not exactly.” She grimaced. “There’s more. I was out getting lunch one day and this car backfired. I ended up crouched up against the building, having a panic attack. And guess who just happened to be right there.”

  “The therapist.”

  “Yep. He told me that I was burned out. And that I was suffering from work-related anxiety and stress. Boom. Indefinite leave.”

  “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

  “I was pretty mad. Then I was lost. I don’t really have anything else but work. I sat in my apartment, trying to figure out what was going on. I felt so exhausted and useless and stupid. My thoughts were overwhelmingly bad. I didn’t tell my family what happened. My mother has been trying to get me to quit ever since I became an agent. And I just didn’t need that. Before I knew it, I had packed some stuff and was heading here. To you.”

  “Good. That’s exactly what you should have done.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t let myself think of how insane it was, I just got in my car and drove.”

  “I hate that you drove while upset.”

  She rubbed her tummy anxiously. “And then when I got here, I acted like a crazy person. I saw you with Kiesha and I thought that you were with her. I’m sorry—”

  “Hush, it was a misunderstanding. You don’t need to be worrying about any of that, all right? It’s in the past.”

  “Overthinking things is kind of my thing.”

  “Then we need to think of ways to distract you from your thoughts don’t we?” He winked down at her. “I can think of a few.”

  “Me too,” she whispered.

  “I have an idea. Anytime you start thinking negative thoughts or overthinking things, you come find me and I’ll kiss you until you can’t think, all right?”

  Her breathing quickened. “I think I can deal with that.”

  “Best deal I ever made.”

  She smiled shyly.

  “Anytime you want to talk to me. About anything, I’m here.”

  She was grateful he wasn’t pushing her for more. At the same time, she got that it was a reprieve and he wouldn’t let her get away with it forever.

  He opened up the bottle of water and shook it. “So if you weren’t feeling ill then how come all of this isn’t drunk? And you’ve barely eaten anything.”

  “Umm. I fell asleep.”

  He picked up her phone and looked at it. “And is that why you didn’t turn your phone on?”

  She grimaced. Shoot.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “What did I tell you before leaving the house?”

  “To drink the water, eat some food, get some rest, and turn on my phone.”

  “And did you do any of that?”

  “I did some of it!”

  “Not good enough.” He turned her phone over and went to hit the button to turn it on.

  “No, wait, don’t do that!”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m just not ready to face the rest of the world. Not yet.”

  His face softened. “All right. But you’re going to have to turn it on sometime soon. If I have to go out again, I want to know that you have a way to contact me. Not that I’m likely to leave you on your own again anytime soon.”

  “You’re overreacting.”

  He scowled. Then pointed at the water. “I want all of that drunk down while I unpack your stuff. Do you want to brush your teeth?”

  “Desperately.”

  “Okay, I’ll unpack your toothbrush first.”

  “I’m going to have a shower too, so I’ll grab some fresh clothes.”

  “Nope.”

  “Nope? What do you mean, nope?” she asked.

  “I mean that you’re not having a shower. It will get hot in there. You might feel light-headed and faint. Unless you want me to shower with you?”

  “I want to shower on my own,” she said in a high-pitched voice which was kind of embarrassing.

  “That’s disappointing.”

  She glared at him as his lips twitched.

  “Relax,” he told her. “I know you’re not ready for that yet. But it’s coming. I’ll run you a bath. You can soak while I unpack everything.” He kissed her lightly on the head. “Now drink that water before we have to start talking about consequences for when you’re naughty.”

  Consequences for when she was naughty? Just what kind of consequences was he talking about?

  18

  Georgina lay back in the bath with a sigh of pleasure. When was the last time she’d had a bath? She didn’t have one in her tiny apartment. Plus, she was usually too busy to take the time when a shower would do.

  Is that what her life had come to? Working so much that she didn’t even have time for a freaking bath?

  Was she really living or just existing?

  “Georgie?”

  She tensed. “Yeah?” The bathroom door hadn’t had a lock. She guessed because it was the master. Not that she expected him to just barge in.

  “I’ve thrown all your clothes into the wash as I wasn’t sure what was clean or not.”

  “All my clothes?” she squeaked out. Shoot! She had her onesie in there. Had he seen that when he was throwing everything in the wash?

  “Yep, so I’ve got another of my T-shirts for you here.”

  She groaned and closed her eyes.

  “You all right?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Just realized I don’t have any clean underwear.”

  Shoot! Why’d she go and say that? He didn’t need to know about her underwear situation. She heard him clear his throat through the door.

  “Well, I do have some boxers. They’re brand new. Kiesha got them for me.”

  They’d likely slip off her but maybe they’d be better than nothing.

  “Thanks.”

  He returned a few moments later. “I’m going to open the door and put them on the bathroom counter. Don’t worry, I won’t peek.”

  She glanced down at herself. She’d found something in his cabinet called Manly Man’s Bath Bubbles. It smelled a bit spicy, which was weird, but the bubbles it created were excellent.

  “It’s okay, I’m covered by bubbles.”

  “Bubbles?” The door opened and he walked in. “Did you bring bubble bath with you?”

  He set the clothes
on the counter and grinned down at her, his arms crossed over his chest. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for a bubble bath girl.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with a good bubble bath, as you’d know,” she said slyly. “Since I used your bubble bath stuff.”

  He straightened. “Mine?”

  She pointed at the bathroom cabinet. “It was in there. Hope you don’t mind.”

  Opening the cupboard, he drew it out, groaning. There was a tinge of red in his cheeks. Darn, that was really quite cute. Big guy could blush.

  “Kiesha is the worst at gift giving.”

  “Oh, so you’ve never used it?”

  That blush deepened and she giggled. She paused at the sound. Since when did she giggle?

  “I might have tried it out.” The red faded from his cheeks as he stared down at her with heat in his eyes. “Of course, I’d be more willing to use it if you were in the bubble bath.”

  “Ed!” she cried.

  “What? Just the truth. You, me, naked in a bath filled with bubbles.”

  “Not happening.”

  “Never say never.”

  She groaned.

  He was incorrigible. “I’m going to make some dinner. Any requests?”

  “I don’t know. Something light. Soup?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re low on iron. You should be eating protein.”

  “Maybe. Just my stomach is still a bit funny.” It wasn’t a lie, it was feeling upset.

  He nodded. “Soup it is. I want you to leave this door open so I can hear you if you cry out.”

  “I’m not going to call out for you.”

  “Actually, I should get your phone then you can call me when you want out. I’ll come and help you. Don’t want you getting dizzy, slipping and hitting your head.”

  “You are not helping me out of the bath.”

  “I won’t look.”

  “Still not happening.”

  Leaning back against the counter, he crossed his arms. “All right, I’ll just wait.”

  “For what?”

  “Until you’re ready to get out. Then I can be right here if you need help. I’ll turn my back.”

  He turned around.

  “You can see everything through the mirror!”

  He turned back around. “Would it make you feel better if I was naked too?”