Daddy's Sweet Girl (Montana Daddies 3)

nbsp; Yeah, he had this. She watched him for a minute longer, after all she wasn’t exactly used to a hot guy whose jeans molded to his spectacular ass. Things that he didn’t accept anything to return for.

He’s doing all this because you helped his sister.

It would be nice if it was because he liked her. But she’d take what she could get. She walked into the kitchen and put on some coffee. Then yawning, she strode into the living room and switched on the T.V., searching for something to watch. It wasn’t long before she was sipping coffee liberally laced with hazelnut creamer and watching The Bachelor.

“Oh man, what is he doing?” she muttered.

“What are you watching?”

She sat up with a gasp, coffee spilling over the edge of her cup. Luckily, it wasn’t that hot. Kent walked around the sofa and crouched in front of her. He grabbed the mug from her, looked at her hand. “Are you burned?”

“No, it was pretty much cold,” she told him. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you walk up behind me. Umm, I’ll just go clean up.” She scooted forward and thankfully, he stood and moved out of the way. She kept her gaze down as she hurried into the kitchen to wash the coffee off her hand. She wiped at the spill on her top. Could she get more klutzy?

“Was that decaf coffee?” he asked.

“No.” She gaped at him. “What’s the point of coffee without the kick of caffeine?”

He brought the cup to his mouth and tasted what was left in the mug. For some reason that felt awfully intimate. Her body throbbed in reaction.

Stop it, Abby. He’s here because you helped Eden. Nothing else.

He grimaced. “Not sure I’d even call that coffee. What flavor is that?”

“Hazelnut. Let me guess, you drink yours black?”

“Damn straight. I’m a manly man. Black coffee puts hairs on your chest.”

She had to smile at that. “And you want hairs on your chest?”

“You don’t like a hairy chest?” There was amusement in his gaze as he stared down at her.

“I...I...” Shit how to answer that? That she didn’t really know what she liked since the only time she’d had sex she’d been drunk and it had been a lot of fumbling in the dark followed by pain and disappointment then humiliation.

The doorbell rang, saving her from having to answer. She moved away from the sink but he pointed at her. “I’ll get it. Stay put. And no more coffee or you won’t sleep tonight.”

She heard the murmur of voices and figuring it was the pizza grabbed a couple of plates and some napkins, carrying them into the living room and setting them on the coffee table. Her attention was snagged by an episode of CSI.

Kent walked in and set the pizza down on the coffee table. “I can see you’ve gone from one extreme to the other.”

He frowned slightly as he studied the dead body laid out on the examination table. “No wonder you have bad dreams, watching this stuff.” He placed the pizza on the coffee table. She reached for the remote, guessing that he wasn’t a CSI fan. “What do you like to watch?”

“I only watch sports. Baseball, preferably.”

She managed to find a game on another channel.

“You don’t have to do that,” he told her quietly.

She glanced over at him with a shy smile. “I know.”

He smiled back and she felt warm inside. It was a small thing but it felt good to make him happy. He opened the lid of the box and her mouth watered. “Oh, wow, that smells good. It’s been so long since I’ve had pizza.”

“Why’s that?”

She shrugged. “Not much use in ordering it for one.” She reached for a piece then stilled. “Oh, let me get you some money for it.”

He snagged her wrist as she stood. “Pretty sure I told you already that I’m old-fashioned, haven’t I?”

“Umm, yes.”