Daddy's Angel (Montana Daddies 7)

“Yep.” He walked into her bedroom and set her down on the bed. “Now, where do you keep your pajamas?” He strode into her walk-in closet.

He came to a stop. Woah. So that’s why all those clothes were out in her bedroom.

“I use this as a music room.”

He frowned and turned to find her standing behind him. “Why in here? Why not use one of the other rooms in this monstrous apartment?”

She shrugged, looking embarrassed. “I like it in here. No one ever comes in here. Larry thinks it’s a waste of time to create my own songs when I can use what other people create.”

“Larry’s a jerk.”

In the walk-in closet there was a guitar, and a keyboard. As well as a couple of pads and pens scattered around. Several big cushions sat on the floor. He could imagine her in there, creating music.

“This is why you spend so much time in your room?”

“Hmm. Oh yes. Oh no, did you think I was being rude?” She looked mortified.

“No. No one could think you rude.” She wouldn’t know how to be. In fact, she seemed to worry too much about looking after everyone else and not enough about herself.

“Where are your pajamas?”

“In the drawers in the bedroom.”

He picked her back up. “Bain! You can’t keep carrying me around!”

“Why not?” He set her back on the bed. “Now, stay put. I’m taking care of you.”

“But I don’t understand why!” She stared up at him as he sat her on the bed.

Right. He hadn’t told her that part yet. He knelt in front of her then he rested his hands on her thighs. “I’m not great at communication.”

“Okay,” she drawled. “You’re not actually telling me anything I don’t know.”

He sighed. “Sometimes I’ll forget to explain things. Be patient with me. Make me talk. Point out stuff I’m doing wrong. Or where I’m being a bit overbearing.”

“A bit?” She raised an eyebrow. “Bain, I’m not sure what you’re talking about. This sounds like you want. . .”

“A relationship?” he asked gruffly. “Good, was worried I wasn’t communicating clearly.”

She gave him an exasperated look. “You’re not! I think you’ve left out part of the explanation.”

“Yeah. Think there might have been a misunderstanding earlier.”

“You think?”

“Watch the sass,” he growled, tapping his finger against her lips warningly. “Little girls who get too sassy get their butt spanked.”

She just gaped at him; her mouth slightly open.

“When I didn’t react to your kiss this morning, wasn’t because I didn’t want to kiss you. I wanted to kiss you too much.”

“Too much. . .then why didn’t you?”

“You’re the client. There are rules. Procedures to be followed.”

“And you never break rules or procedures.”

He frowned. “Rules are there for a reason, Arianna.”