Daddy's Sweet Girl (Montana Daddies 3)

“I don’t need any damned peas, Abby. Sit,” he growled when she went to move. “My nose is fine. I’ve had far worse.”

“I’m so sorry. I was having a bad dream and then I woke up and saw someone looming over me...” Her eyes widened. “You’re in my bedroom.” She looked like she couldn’t quite believe her own words. Then she did something rather odd.

She started laughing.

What was going on with her?

“Oh, I get it now. This is a dream. Well, thank God for that.” She sounded so relieved he felt a bit insulted.

She frowned at him. “I’m not usually clumsy in my dreams about you, though.” She stared at herself. “And I never wear these pajamas. Or have Bun-bun with me.”

“You don’t?” She dreamed about him? Bun-bun?

“No, that’s not exactly normal, is it? Or sexy. A twenty-six-year-old sleeping with a stuffed toy is weird.”

Not as weird or unusual as she might have thought. At least not on Sanctuary. But he wasn’t going into that right now.

“Baby, listen to me. You’re not dreaming.” He knelt, ignoring his aching nose and placed his hands on her legs just above her knees as he braced himself.

This was going to come as a shock.

“Yes, I am.”

Okay, that wasn’t quite the reaction he was expecting. But then he was starting to learn that the unexpected was normal when it came to Abby.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. Because if I’m not sleeping then you’ve come into my house unannounced. Because if I’m not sleeping then you’re in my bedroom. And you now know that I’m a twenty-six-year-old who sleeps with a stuffed toy!” Her voice got louder with each accusing sentence and he winced.

“All right, you’re still sleeping,” he agreed trying to calm her down.

“No, I’m not!” she yelled as she struggled to stand. He applied pressure to keep her seated.

“And here I always thought you were a quiet little thing.”

“I am until someone creeps into my bedroom and wakes me up.” Her eyes were wild as she glared down at him.

“I can assure you, I did not creep,” he said, offended.

She gave him an incredulous look.

Part of him admitted that he could have handled this whole thing differently.

“I knocked. Several times. On the front door which was unlocked, and don’t think we won’t be having a chat about that.” He’d prefer that chat happen over his knee, but he’d have to settle for giving her a very stern talking to. He also hadn’t forgotten what she’d called herself just before.

Stupid klutz?

Nope. She needed to learn that wasn’t acceptable either. Safety and respect were important.

“You knocked? A chat?” She seemed bewildered as though she didn’t understand what he was saying.

“You always wake up so befuddled?” he asked.

“Befuddled?”

He was going to take that as a yes.

“Once I was inside the house, I called out several times. I expected to find you collapsed and unconscious on the ground since that was the only reason I could think of for the door not to be locked and you not to be answering me. Then I knocked on your bedroom door and called out again. I heard something, probably you having a nightmare, so I came in. Do you always sleep that deeply? To the point where a man can be in your house and you don’t even wake up? Do you know how dangerous that is? What if I had been someone intent on doing you harm? Just what were you thinking leaving your door unlocked?”