Daddy's Sweet Girl (Montana Daddies 3)

“No, but I was a Navy SEAL, does that count?”

Her whole face softened. “Thank you for your service.”

Sweet as fucking pie.

“Take the pants off, sweet girl. Let’s take care of you and get you into bed.”

He figured it was a sign of just how tired she was that she just nodded and slipped off the worn pajamas. He got a glimpse of her panties. Pale pink with little rainbows on them.

Fucking adorable.

Shit. What was wrong with him? He was used to lacy, sexy lingerie. Since when did he think of underwear as adorable? He lifted her back up before he could think about his reaction to her too much. Then crouching, he stared at her knees. “Oh, sweetheart, these have to hurt.” They were red and the scrapes were angry looking.

“Every time I’m still for longer than five minutes, I seize up,” she admitted to him. “Funny how much more it hurts to fall as an adult than a kid. Shower helped a bit, but they’re still sore.”

He bet they were and she was going to feel even worse in the morning. He clenched his jaw against saying anything.

Damn near killed him.

He stood. “Okay, your knees are done. Let me see your back where you hit the car.”

She just stared at him, then she opened her mouth.

“And I know you’re not going to argue with me because you know how futile that will be.”

“You’re stubborn.”

“Yep,” he agreed. “More stubborn than you are.”

“Not going to get an argument from me about that.”

“Oh, so there’s something you won’t argue with me about?” he teased as he lowered her to the floor and turned her to face the bathroom counter.

“I never argue.”

He snorted. “Could have fooled me.”

“I don’t.” Her voice had a childish note to it.

“Darling, you’re not exactly doing a good job of proving your point right now.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah. Guess you could more truthfully say I don’t argue with anyone but you.”

He had her top up, and was hoping their conversation would keep her attention directed away from the fact that he could see a large expanse of her creamy skin. Jesus, the urge to lay kisses along her back, down over what he knew had to be a perfect ass was nearly irresistible.

He took a deep breath then examined at the angry red mark that started on her back and wrapped around her ribs.

Shit.

“Why is that do you suppose?” he asked in a low voice as he gently prodded at her ribs, hoping like hell she hadn’t damaged them badly. What had he been doing lifting her up and moving her around when he knew she was injured?

His rational side was pointing out that if her ribs were that badly damaged, she would have been showing some sign of favoring them. And she certainly would have reacted when he first picked her up. But right now, he wasn’t interested in listening to his rational side.

She winced and he paused. “Sore there?”

“A little.”

Hmm. He wondered what exactly ‘a little’ meant. He had a feeling she was used to hiding her true feelings.