Fuck. Shit.
“And apparently she sits in hot fucking cars and let’s herself sweat out all the fucking liquid in her body,” he muttered as he unlocked her door.
“Shouldn’t leave it out, though. I’ll get a fine. Screw it! I don’t care. Don’t. Care. Gonna be a rebel. I can do that. I can do what I want.”
“Okay, little rebel. You stay there for me, all right?”
“Okie-dokie.”
Duke didn’t bother to look back at her, certain she would obey. He moved inside and switched on some lights and the air.
He turned back to go get her, only to find her standing behind him, swaying on her feet. Her boots were still on, and she’d left a trail of dirt through the house.
“Damn it, Sunny, I told you to stay put.” He winced at the growl in his voice.
She stared up at him, blinking. “I made you mad again. Sorry, Daddy.”
He froze. The fuck did she just say? Christ, was she delusional now?
“I’m not your daddy. I’m Duke. The next-door neighbor.”
She just continued to stand there, staring at him. Fuck, how out of it was she? He grimaced, unable to believe he was about to say this. “Biker babe?”
“Biker babe,” she muttered. “Bit girly.”
She couldn’t stay where he put her, but that she remembered? He rolled his eyes as he took hold of her hand and led her to a chair. She didn’t sit, just continued to stand there.
“Sit, little rebel,” he murmured. “Let’s get you out of those boots and into the shower. You need to cool down.”
She was shivering now with the cool air blasting through the room. She needed to get out of those sweaty clothes. He noted how red and flushed her cheeks were and her eyes were swollen.
Had she been crying?
Unease settled in his gut at the idea of her upset and alone as he unlaced her boots.
Well, she’s not alone right now, is she?
“Can’t remember last time I helped take someone’s shoes off,” he muttered.
“You’d make a good Daddy,” she murmured. Her eyes were closed, her head slumped against the back of the chair.
“No plans on having children, baby girl,” he told her.
“Me either.” She snorted. “Gotta have a husband before you have kids, right?”
Well, not technically. But she seemed the type to map out her life perfectly. Definitely not his type. He didn’t do forever after or happy little families.
“Don’t have one of those. Used to. He was a. . .a jerk.”
He pulled off her socks. Christ, why did she have such thick socks on? No wonder she was roasting.
He only ever helped someone undress when he was about to fuck them. And no woman he’d ever fucked would be seen dead in a pair of men’s socks.
And yet, he wasn’t concerned or grossed out in the slightest. Might have helped that she had the cutest feet, with cheery yellow nail polish on her manicured toe nails. Not at all what he’d been expecting.
But the
n, he was beginning to see that she was very different than he’d judged her to be.