Daddy's Little Darling (Montana Daddies 2)
Did his eyes flare open slightly in surprise? Why? Was her name such a shock? Wait. What if she was at the wrong place? That was it. There hadn’t been a name written out at the gate, she’d relied on the instructions she’d been given, but maybe Sanctuary Ranch was further along the road.
Relief almost made her feel giddy even as she ignored the voice telling her that she was grasping at straws.
“You’re supposed to be a man.”
“Umm, s-sorry?” She wasn’t quite sure what response he was wanting but figured she was best to go with an apology since he looked so upset.
He stared down at her. “Well, shit. Don’t suppose it’s your fault.”
“Pretty sure I didn’t have a choice,” she quipped.
His gaze narrowed. Shit, why did she go and say that?
“Your name is really Charlie?”
“Well, umm, it’s Charlotte. You thought you were hiring a man?” So, she was at the right place, it just seemed she was lacking the necessary, uh, equipment.
“Yes, I asked the agency for a man. I don’t let females live here unless they have a male to act as guardian.”
The statement was so completely old-fashioned that she had to take a moment to make sure she’d heard him correctly. “Guardian?”
“Yes, guardian,” he repeated impatiently. “I need to go and sort this out with the agency. Damn it, like I don’t have better things to do.”
She felt guilty at taking up his time, even though it wasn’t technically her fault. She was just doing what the agency had directed her to do. And it certainly wasn’t her fault that this guy had some odd notions about women needing guardians.
“I won’t take up any more of your time. It’s obvious you don’t want me here so I’ll just leave—”
“You will not. You will accompany me inside. Now.”
Right. Well, it was obvious he was used to being in charge and even though she knew she should tell him where he could stick his imperious order, she found herself scrambling to keep up with his long legs as he strode towards the main house.
They walked past a huge man dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans. He wore a cowboy hat. He looked her over, his pale blue gaze gave nothing away and yet she couldn’t help but feel he was sizing her up.
As they approached the stairs leading up to the wide porch that wrapped around the house, a dark-haired woman in a wheelchair swung her way down the ramp to the side of the stairs. She moved at a far faster pace than Charlie would ever have dared. Although Charlie wasn’t known for being a daredevil.
“Damn it, Eden, slow down,” Clinton growled at the woman.
Charlie would have immediately slowed and apologized, this woman just gave a wave and headed off down the paved driveway that swung past the house. Was that his wife? If she was, she was a far braver woman than Charlie.
Most people are braver than you.
She followed the cowboy into a mudroom where he took off his boots and laid his hat on a hook on the wall. She slid off her own shoes, her heart thundering in her chest as she followed him into what had to be one of the most beautiful kitchens she’d ever seen.
It took up three walls and had a large island in the center. Everything gleamed from the double ovens to the granite countertops to the huge stainless-steel fridge. She just stood for a moment and took it all in. She could see herself cooking here. This was a kitchen made for a family. There should be children sitting at the island, doing their homework while they ate afterschool snacks. Dinner in the oven, a cake cooling for dessert. She didn’t even realize she’d been left behind until he suddenly appeared in front of her. She jumped, stepping back and barely managing to hold in her cry of surprise.
“What are you doing?” he barked. “I was nearly at my office when I noticed you weren’t behind me.”
“Sorry, I just…this is a beautiful kitchen.”
He looked around as though just seeing it for the first time. He shrugged. “I suppose. Now keep up.”
She brought her hand up in a salute.
But she waited until his back was turned. She wasn’t an idiot.
2
Clint resisted the urge to slam the phone down. Fuck.