Protector Daddy (MC Daddies 3)

He nodded and walked over to a drawer, drawing out a pen and paper. After writing something down, he left it on the counter. She looked over to read it as he left.

Jacqueline2010

Oh hell. Was that his wife’s name? Was that the year she’d died?

16

Millie frowned at her laptop screen. She’d tried searching for any information on Luther Franklin. His father. Even Jared Bartolli.

Sure, a few things came up. Especially around the murder of Luther’s father. But nothing that told her much that she didn’t already know.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes, leaning her head back. She’d been on her laptop nearly all day with nothing to show for it except a sore neck and aching temples. It didn’t feel like a migraine was developing but she knew she should probably take a rest for a while. Too much screen time could affect her and she wasn’t doing that well at managing her stress levels.

Perhaps she should take up yoga. It was meant to help with migraines. And that had to count as exercising, right?

“Come on, Mr. Fluffy.” She opened the sliding door and picked the puppy up, taking him outside so he could walk around and pee. When he’d done his business, she walked back into the house. She’d barely seen Spike today. He’d quickly popped in to grab a sandwich for lunch, making one for her as well. Then fled again.

Was he avoiding her? Worry sat like a brick in her stomach. She hated that she might be making him feel awkward in his own house. Deciding it might be better if she just went up and hid in her bedroom, she grabbed Mr. Fluffy and headed towards the stairs.

But instead, she found herself moving towards the other side of the house. The one he hadn’t shown her.

Yes, she was nosey as hell. But what was the harm? So long as she didn’t get caught.

There was a faint noise, like a bass. Did he have music playing?

“Just a small peek, Mr. Fluffy. Shh.” She walked down the corridor and knocked on one door. “Spike?”

No answer. She opened it and peeked in to see what looked like an office. There was a huge wooden desk, a chesterfield sofa and bookshelves along the back wall. This room had the most lived-in look of the whole house.

She wondered what he did for a job?

“We probably shouldn’t go in there, aye, Mr. Fluffy?”

“That would be a wise decision,” a deep voice said from behind her.

With a scream, she turned and gaped up at him, her free hand on her racing heart.

Mr. Fluffy wriggled to get down. She set him on his feet and he trotted off down the corridor.

Traitor.

Was he really going to leave her here? To face Spike’s wrath on her own?

“I . . . um . . . well, you could make some noise!”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re tell

ing me off for being too quiet when I move because you got caught sneaking around?”

“Well, I, ahh . . .” Shoot. When he put it like that, it sounded bad.

“I wasn’t sneaking around!”

“No? Then how come you look so guilty?”

“This isn’t my guilty face. This is my surprised face. You nearly gave me a heart attack is all.”

“Maybe if you weren’t sneaking around you might have heard me.”