Daddy's Little Darling (Montana Daddies 2)

Oh.

He grabbed some socks from a drawer and moved back to her. Shoving back the covers, he pulled the socks over her feet. They were huge and probably looked ridiculous, but they felt so good she let out a happy sigh.

“Gonna have to work on getting you to ask for what you need. I’m pretty observant but I’m no mind reader. And I’m not going anywhere. You’ll learn that in time I suppose.” He pulled her close once more, making sure the covers were tucked tight around her. “Cold-blooded little thing, aren’t you? We’re going to have to take you shopping. Get some of those pajamas with the feet attached and a butt flap for easy access.”

Hmm. She wasn’t sure that was a good idea.

“I don’t think they make those in my size, Daddy.”

“Oh, they definitely do.” He gave her ass a light smack. “I know someone who makes special orders for all sorts of outfits for little girls.”

Well, of course he did. She yawned again and went to sleep with his lightly patting her bottom.

* * *

“You’re a thief!”

No. No. She shied back as Allan yelled at her, looming over her. Suddenly it wasn’t Allan standing over her, it was Brian.

“You’re messed up! Why can’t you be normal! I can’t take it anymore!” Brian screamed, his face mottled and red.

Brian’s face morphed into her aunt’s. “You should be grateful, you little brat! Grateful I took you in! Yet all you do is cry and beg. You should be dead! You should have been the one to die!”

“Charlotte! Charlotte, wake up!”

No. No. She was sorry. She hadn’t meant to. Please!

“Charlotte, wake up. Now!”

She gasped, opened her eyes and stared up into Clint’s concerned face. Where was she? What was she doing here? She tried to scoot backwards, her hand throbbing as she moved it. She remembered now. She remembered it all. She’d been prepping for dinner when Allan had accused her of being a thief. He’d gone through her backpack and found the can of peaches. Then he’d screamed at her and when she’d moved towards him, he’d pushed her back. She’d fallen. That must have been when she’d cut her hand. The rest was a blur.

But, oh God, if Allan knew she’d been stealing then she was guessing Clint knew too.

She sat up, pressed herself against the headboard and curled her legs in against her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

“Charlotte.” Clint reached for her and she flinched back with a whimper.

He stared at her in shock. “Baby girl, it’s me. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe.”

She trembled. If he knew, why hadn’t he said anything? Why hadn’t he kicked her off the ranch? Why had he said all those things about wanting to be with her? To be her daddy?

She let out a sob.

“Little darling,” he soothed. “Please don’t cry. Let me hold you. Tell me what the nightmare was about so I can help make it go away.”

“You can’t make it go away; they never go away.” She’d had nightmares for years. They’d changed over time, but they never went away.

“Daddies are very good at making nightmares go away. At keeping the monsters at bay. Let me hold you and I’ll show you.”

She shook her head and tightened her hold on her legs. He studied her for a moment, appearing worried.

“Baby—”

“Why am I still here?” she whispered.

“What do you mean? In my bed? You went to sleep here, don’t you remember?” He frowned. “Do you need Doc? I’ll go call him.” He moved his legs off the side of the bed.

“No! Don’t go! Please don’t go.” She knew she was acting crazy. She didn’t want him to touch her. But she also didn’t want him to leave.