Daddy's Sweet Girl (Montana Daddies, #3)

by Roberts, Laylah

  Two fingers were placed under her chin and her head was turned so she was staring up at Kent once more.

  “Abby, sweetheart, I know you’ve had a fright. But I need you to stay here with me, okay? I’m here now. I’ll look after you.”

  She stared into his deep brown eyes and heard the sincerity in his voice. How amazing would it be to have this man protect and take care of her all the time? It was a dream that would never come true. But right now, she just wanted to sink herself into the safety he represented.

  “O-okay.”

  “Where are you hurt? Eden said those guys shoved you against a car. Is your back sore? Did they hurt you anywhere else?

  “N-no. That...that’s all that happened. Eden is the one they hurt.”

  “What about the scratches on your hands?”

  “I fell over earlier. I’m a bit clumsy sometimes,” she whispered in an ashamed voice. She wished she was tall and elegant and graceful.

  Not short and clumsy with too much boob and ass.

  “Hey, come back to me.” His voice was still soft but there was a core of steel that had her obeying him immediately.

  She met his gaze and that whoosh of arousal ran through her body. Jesus, he was potent.

  He gave her a warm smile. “There she is. Good girl. You’re doing well, Abby.”

  She was? She thought she was one step away from losing it.

  But he had called her a good girl.

  “Huh, like that is it?” Ed asked.

  “You got a problem, Ed?” Kent asked, without glancing back at the other man.

  “No problem.” The sheriff stared down at her, studying her. What was it? Was there something on her face? She reached up to rub at her cheek and Kent took the opportunity to grab her hand. He gently turned it over to study the scraped palm. The blood had dried and gone all crusty but there were still bits of gravel and dirt stuck in the cut.

  She winced. That was gonna be hell to clean.

  “This didn’t happen recently,” Kent said. “And it hasn’t been cleaned.”

  “It happened a few hours ago. Wasn’t looking where I was going and tripped over something in the car park.” She didn’t mention the threatening man. She knew better than to talk to cops about Max’s shit.

  That was a definite way to lose more than your fingers and toes. A shudder rocked her body.

  “It’s okay, Abby. You’re safe now,” Kent reassured her.

  If only that was true.

  “I’m going to go and talk to Gray again. You got this?” Ed asked.

  “Yeah, I got this.” Confidence filled Kent’s voice.

  “I can take Abby home—”

  Kent turned to Ed. “I got this, Ed.”

  His firm tone sent a shudder up her spine. He immediately turned back to her.

  “Easy, sweet girl. Everything is okay now. You really should get these hands cleaned.”

  “No,” she whispered.

  He gave her an incredulous stare. “No?”

  She peeked over at the paramedic and just shook her head. Her hand trembled in his.

  “It’s him or me, little one.”

  Little one? Okay, she’d been called a lot of names over the years that alluded to her height. Shorty, pipsqueak, shrimp, small fry, midget. The list went on. But never little one. And certainly, never said in such a warm voice.

  “I can do it myself.”

  “Now, those weren’t your choices, were they?” That core of steel was back and her heart leaped into her throat. The paramedic or him? Seriously? Those were her choices? Bad enough he was touching her now, much more and she thought she might self-combust.

  “Kent, Eden needs to go to the hospital and get checked out,” the other guy told him.

  “I’m not going to the hospital, Zeke,” Eden stated.

  Zeke stood, arms folded across his chest, the look on his face intimidating as hell. If Abby was Eden, she would have already capitulated, unable to take the pressure of such a glare. But Eden was matching his scowl with her own, obviously determined not to back down.

  “Eden,” Kent said in a low voice. “You could have broken ribs.”

  “They’re not broken. I know what broken ribs feel like, remember? They’re just bruised and there ain’t nothing that can be done for them either way. I’m not going to the hospital.”

  Kent stood, stared at his sister thoughtfully. Then he turned to Zeke. “Take her to Doc.”

  “Chief,” Zeke said in a warning voice.

  Kent’s face morphed into that cold mask once more. “Take her home to Doc.”

  “Where are you going?” Eden asked.

  “I’m taking Abby home. I’ll take care of her.”

  I’m taking Abby home. I’ll take care of her.

  She should protest, but when was the last time someone had taken care of her?

  “Zeke, take Eden home in her car. I’ll take my truck. Make sure she gets checked over by Doc.”

  “And Clint?” Zeke asked in a stiff voice. “We telling him that his sister was at a dive bar and got accosted by two bikers?”

  “In the morning,” Kent said tiredly. “I’ll deal with it. After Eden and I have a chat.”

  “Awesome,” Eden said sarcastically. “I look forward to it.”

  Abby felt sorry for Kent. There were dark crescents under his eyes. She had the feeling he had to deal with a lot on his own. She wished she could rub away the frown lines on his forehead, massage his tight neck muscles. But it wasn’t her place. He was just being nice to her. None of this meant anything.

  “Abby, thanks for helping me,” Eden said to her.

  Abby smiled. “You’re welcome. Not that I was much help.”

  “Umm, one question? Why did you call out fire instead of help?”

  “Oh, I watched this documentary once where it said people are more likely to respond if they hear the word fire than help.” She shrugged.

  “Come on, Eden,” Zeke said firmly. “Let’s get you home and checked over. I’ll call Doc on the way.”

  Eden groaned. “Great, he’s even more grumpy when he’s woken up.”

  “Well, just think of it as a warm-up for when Clint hears about this,” Zeke replied.

  “Fuck my life,” Eden said tiredly.

  “You should be damn thankful you’re not mine,” Zeke told her as he walked around the back of the chair, taking hold of the handles. “‘Cause not only would you be headed to the hospital, but once you were better, you’d be over my knee.”

  Abby froze in her seat, Eden’s reply drowned out by the roaring in her ears. Did he just threaten to spank her? She’d heard some rumors about Sanctuary ranch, but they’d always been sharply shut down. She’d never put much credence into them. But now...

  “Abby, you okay?”

  She peered around the room. There was only her and Kent left and he was giving her a concerned look. She blushed and tried to jump to her feet. But as she did, she knocked into him, sending him sprawling backwards.

  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

  Why did she have to be such a clumsy dork? She held out her hand to Kent who was staring at her incredulously. “Here, let me help you up.”

  He climbed to his feet without taking her hand. Rejection flooded her. He didn’t want to touch her.

  Well, you were the one to knock him over.

  She dropped her gaze to the floor. Idiot.

  “Abby, look at me,” he said to her in a low voice. “Look at me.” This time his voice was firmer. Not so easy to ignore.

  She sighed. Glanced up at him.

  “Honey, I weigh twice as much as you do and you’ve got some nasty grazes on your hand. Plus, I’m a guy. I’m a little old-fashioned about some things. And that means, in my world, a little thing like you doesn’t try to help me up. When I’m around, you don’t open doors or carry things or pump gas or pay for the bill. All right?”

  She blinked, trying to take that in. There were men like that? She’d kind of thought they d
idn’t exist. Not anymore. Then it hit her. He wasn’t rejecting her. He was being thoughtful.

  “Oh.”

  He smiled. The skin around his eyes crinkled as amusement filled his face. He tucked a lock of hair back that had fallen out of the bun she usually kept her hair confined in. “Come on, sweet girl. Let’s get you home and into bed.”

  Her body went on high alert.

  He doesn’t mean it that way.

  And sure enough, his next words proved that. “You look completely wiped and it’s way past your bedtime.” He took gentle hold of her wrist and guided her from the room, and yes, he actually held open the door for her.

  “I don’t have a bedtime.”

  “You should.”

  She frowned. What did he mean by that? He led them out the back door of the bar as though he’d used it plenty of times before.

  “Have you come here often?” she asked.

  “Here? God, no.” His voice was very definite. “Love to know why you’re here, though.”

  She tensed up. Crap. She was going to have to think of a good excuse.

  “And before you tell me that lie you’re trying to concoct, I would warn you that I don’t like to be lied to. Ever. I’d rather you said nothing at all than lie to me. Understood?” There was no bend in his voice and even though she couldn’t see his face, she knew that he meant every word.

  Okay, note to self. Don’t lie to Kent Jensen. Probably not going to be a problem, since before tonight she’d barely spoken to him and she fully expected things to return to normal tomorrow. Tonight, was just some weird aberration where he was taking care of her because he was a good guy, because he was grateful she’d helped Eden.

  Yeah, that had to be it.

  Chapter Three

  Abby frowned as Kent guided her over to a huge ass black truck. “My car is over there.” She waved her free hand towards the left.

  “Is it?” He beeped open his truck.

  “Umm, yes, so I guess I’ll just say good night here.”

  He opened the passenger door and the inner light went on. Then he turned to her. “Abby, didn’t you hear me say I was going to take care of you?”

  “Umm, well, yes, but—”

  “And that I told the sheriff I would take you home?”

  “Well, I heard that, yes, but that doesn’t mean—”

  “That I told the paramedic I would look after those cuts on your hands—”

  “Yes, but you see—”

  “And I told Zeke and Eden I was taking you home in my truck.”

  “Urgh! Could you please just let me talk!”

  There was a moment of silence. She opened her mouth to speak, finally he was going to be reasonable.

  “No.”

  No? No? He couldn’t be serious. He reached down, grasped her around the waist and lifted her up into the passenger seat. No doubt she would have had to take a running jump to get up but he’d lifted her in as though she didn’t weigh a thing.

  “Kent!” she squealed.

  “Yes?”

  “You can’t just lift me like that!”

  “Why not?” He grabbed the seat belt and pulled it over her, his arm brushing against her already stiff nipples. Oh Christ, he couldn’t feel them through the layers of clothing, could he?

  “Because I’m too heavy.”

  More silence. Only there was disapproval in this silence.

  “You did not just say that.”

  “Umm...” Why was he mad?

  He grasped hold of her chin and turned her to face him. He seemed to have this thing about her looking at him when he spoke. “Listen to me, Abby. Really listen and take this in. Talking bad about yourself is not allowed. Saying things like you are too heavy is a surefire way to end up in trouble with me, you got me?”

  No. She didn’t get him. She didn’t get him at all. Trouble? Why would she get into trouble over speaking the truth? She was just trying to save his back. She didn’t see how it was such a big deal anyway.

  He sighed. “You don’t got me.”

  “Not really.”

  “Do you know anything about how Sanctuary Ranch is run?”

  “I-I’ve heard things.”

  He snorted. “Probably the wrong things. You already know I have some old-fashioned values. I believe the man should be the head of the household. It’s how I grew up. What I want for myself. It’s what all the men on Sanctuary believe in. Not a dictatorship, I’m always going to listen to my woman’s opinion. But the ultimate decision falls on me. I make the rules. I enforce them. Now I can tell by the look on your face that you’re about to tell me I’m a complete Neanderthal asshole. But you haven’t heard it all. The women living at Sanctuary are cherished, protected, completely respected by me. Their happiness, safety, health come before everything else.”

  She didn’t know what to make of any of this. She didn’t know what he expected her to say or why he was even telling her all of this. It did explain a few things about the men who lived on Sanctuary Ranch. They always had this dominant vibe going on. And whenever any of their women were with them, they were extremely protective and attentive. It had always made her jealous and a bit sad.

  Because it wasn’t something she’d ever have.

  “I would never disrespect my woman. I certainly would never allow her to disrespect herself. You get what I’m saying?”

  She wanted to point out that she wasn’t his woman. That none of this applied to her. But the words were frozen on her tongue.

  Instead, she nodded.

  He studied her for a moment then shook his head. “Just don’t put yourself down again.” He ran his gaze over her. “Christ, you’re so short your feet don’t even reach the floor.”

  She peered down to find her feet swinging in the air.

  “You need a booster seat.”

  “I do not!”

  “Can you see out of the window?”

  “I’m not that short.”

  “Honey.” He placed his hand on her thigh and warmth filled her. She quickly pressed her thighs together as her clit throbbed. “I like that you’re short. You’re cute.”

  Cute. Right. Cute was what you said about puppies and kittens and little kids. All of them usually short as well.

  “But I’m concerned about your safety. How tall are you? What height is it safe to be out of a booster?”

  He couldn’t be serious. Oh my God. He was. He was actually being serious.

  “I’m five foot,” well, not quite, “and I’m nearly twenty-six years old, I’m way too big and old for a booster seat.” She wasn’t about to tell him what she weighed.

  He grunted. “I’ll have to look that up.”

  Look it up? What the hell? Before she could say anything, he’d shut her door and moved around the front of his truck, leaving her to wonder what the hell that meant.

  “Wait,” she said as he got in. She undid her seatbelt. “I just remembered I have the early shift tomorrow at the diner. I need my car.”

  “Call in sick.”

  “I can’t call in sick.” She gaped at him.

  “I’ll do it for you.”

  “You will not.” What was going on? “I have never called in sick.”

  “How long have you worked there?”

  “Five years.”

  “Five years and you’ve never once been sick?” he asked incredulously.

  “I’m hardly ever sick,” she allowed, remembering his warning never to lie to him.

  “You go into work when you’re ill? You’re not concerned about spreading germs to your customers?”

  “I wouldn’t go in if I was contagious,” she protested.

  “So, if you weren’t contagious, then what was wrong with you?”

  How had they gotten onto this conversation? She remained silent. He shifted, turning towards her. “Not gonna answer, huh?”

  “You said you’d rather I didn’t say anything than lie to you,” she pointed out softly. She tensed, waiting for him to get angry
.

  “Fair enough. I appreciate you not lying to me.”

  She spun, staring at him in shock. The overhead light had already turned off so she couldn’t make out his features, unfortunately.

  “Abby, it’s nearly two a.m. You’ve got to be exhausted, I’m sure your boss will understand if you call in sick for a day.”

  She didn’t think Gloria would understand at all. “I need the money.”

  “I’ll give it to you.”

  He did not just offer that.

  “Y-you won’t.” Maybe someone as broke as her shouldn’t have any pride, but she did. And she was not taking money from his man.

  “I will. Tell me how much you’d be short by and I’ll make up the difference.”

  She leaned over the console between them, determined to make herself understood. She wasn’t an aggressive person. She didn’t like confrontation. But this was not going to happen.

  “You. Will. Not.”

  He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “Gotta say, didn’t think you’d have this stubborn streak.”

  She wasn’t sure it was stubbornness so much as anger over what he obviously thought of her. That she was the type of person to take his money. She wasn’t. She might have none. Things might be getting desperate enough that she was in jeopardy of losing her home, but she would not take his money.

  “Fine.” He started his truck. “Let’s get you home so you’ll get some sleep tonight.”

  “I really need my car, though. How will I get to it in the morning?”

  “I’ll get one of the boys to drive it to your place before your shift. What time do you start?”

  “Six,” she whispered, knowing he wouldn’t like that.

  “Shit. Barely even worth going to bed.”

  Yeah, she’d had that thought herself. The cab of the truck was filled with his anger.

  “I’m sorry,” she told him, unable to help herself.

  “What are you sorry for?”

  “I’m sorry you’re upset with me for not doing what you wanted.”