Protector Daddy (MC Daddies 3)
Page 150
But it wasn’t the same. She wanted to be home in Spike’s bed. In his house. Not in the hospital surrounded by strangers. The police had been by earlier to interview her, but they hadn’t had many answers for her either. Spike wouldn’t answer any questions about what was happening with the Devil’s Sinners. If she wasn’t feeling so sleepy and dopey, she might have been irritated at being kept out of the loop.
“No thanks,” she replied as the woman started to fill up a bowl with warm water and soap at the sink. Urgh, hospital soap? She so didn’t think so.
“It will make you feel so much better.”
Right. So she said.
“Sir, you’ll have to leave to give my patient some privacy,” the nurse said to Spike.
“No,” Spike said. He stood and reached for the bowl and cloth.
“Sir—”
“I’ll be bathing her myself. You can go.”
“Look, I can’t just l-let you . . . “ the nurse spluttered.
“She’s mine to care for. I will do it.”
“You can’t get her bandages wet.”
He gave her a look that clearly told her that he wasn’t stupid.
The nurse sighed. “Millie, is this all right with you?”
“Yes,” she said immediately. She’d much rather have Spike bathe her than some stranger.
A buzzer sounded and the nurse gave them both a harried look. “All right. I’ll be back later to take your vitals.”
She left and Spike moved to the door, having a quiet word with the man outside. Then he tipped the water down the sink.
She sighed in relief. But he started to fill it again, moving into the bathroom and coming back with her own shower gel.
“Couldn’t I have a shower instead?” she whined. She wasn’t usually a whiner but this was all getting to be too much. She hated how helpless she was.
“Baby doll, you’re hooked up to a drip. Not to mention you’re weak as a babe. No way I would let you shower like this.”
“Maybe I can wash myself.”
He gently cupped one side of her face with his big hand. “Millie.”
That was all he said, but she knew what he wanted. She raised her face so she was looking at him. She braced herself for his commands, knowing she’d likely give in.
“Let me do this. Please.”
He couldn’t have shocked her more if he’d told her he had a lifetime goal to become a clown in the circus.
“P-please? You just said please . . . am I hallucinating?”
He shook his head at her, but the skin around his eyes crinkled.
“You don’t know how hard it is to feel helpless,” he told her. “When you’re hurt, in pain, I just want to do something. Let me take care of you.”
“You are doing something by just being here. You’re keeping me sane.”
“Keep me sane and let me help you.”
“Are you sure you were ever sane?” she asked suspiciously.