Daddy's Sweet Girl (Montana Daddies 3)

“Abby, what’s wrong?” he asked in a cajoling voice.

The urge to tell him was so strong that she actually had to bite down on her tongue to stop herself. Ouch. Not a gr

eat idea.

“Abby? You’re worrying me, love.”

She forced herself to relax, giving him a small smile. “You’re really sweet to worry about me but I promise I’m fine. Just tired. I really need to get going. It was nice seeing you. Bye.”

She shut the door and leaned against it, shaking. Her stomach bubbled. She hated being rude. Especially to someone who’d only ever been kind to her. Hell, she was polite to everyone. Even Gloria. She’d probably never see Macca again after practically shutting the door in his face. Sadness filled her and she glanced over at Max.

Yet again, something else he’d taken from her. It was bad enough he was the reason she had no money, had to work every hour she could. But now he was robbing her of the chance of making a friend. Okay, Macca was just being polite. He had only brought her car back because Kent got him to. But he didn’t have to come check on her.

She heard the truck drive away and Max moved to the window, pulling back the sheer curtain. “He’s gone. Jesus, thought he was never gonna leave. All that ‘love’ crap. As if women actually like that shit.”

She did. Okay, Macca didn’t stir her the way Kent did. She didn’t have that flash of attraction. But when he said love in that accent of his, she did melt slightly.

“And where the fuck is he from? England?”

“I think he’s Australian.”

Max just made a derisive noise. “You got any food? I’m starving.”

It was then she remembered the food strewn around the floor. Had Macca seen it? If he had, surely he would have said something.

But still, a nervous feeling developed in her stomach.

KENT GLANCED DOWN AT his phone. Why wasn’t he calling?

“Somewhere else you need to be, brother?” Clint asked him. He’d come to his brother’s place to...well...he wasn’t quite sure why he was here. He just felt out of sorts. He couldn’t work. Couldn’t focus.

“No. Sorry.”

He took a sip of coffee. He was seated at the breakfast bar across from Clint and Charlie. She’d made them both some huge sandwiches and herself a much smaller one. She took a big drink of her milk, leaving a white moustache on her top lip. He smiled, remembering how Abby had insisted that she didn’t drink milk.

He frowned. Glanced at his phone again. Still nothing from Macca. How long did he take to check on one small female?

“Do you not like your sandwich?” Charlie asked, still wearing the moustache. “I can make you another one.”

She tried to climb off her stool, but Clint placed his hand on her shoulder, stilling her. “He doesn’t like his sandwich; he can make himself another one. You sit. Eat.” He turned to stare at her, then grinned and grabbed a napkin, took hold of her chin with one hand and wiped at her face with the napkin.

“Hey! Stop!” Charlie squirmed around.

“You’ve got a moustache, sweetheart,” he told her gently. “There we go, all clean.” He finished by kissing the tip of her nose. “Cute as a button.”

She pouted slightly, but Kent could see the pleasure in her face. A strange longing unfurled inside him. He was happy for his brother. More than happy. Since meeting Charlie, Clint had started to change his work-a-holic ways.

“Okay, spill it. You’ve got a face like a lemon and you’re insulting Charlie by not eating the food she made for you.”

And nobody insulted Charlie and escaped Clint’s wrath. He got it. He picked up one half of the roast beef and mustard sandwich, taking a bite.

“I’m not insulted,” Charlie muttered.

Clint sent her a look. “And I better see you finish everything on your plate, little girl.”

Charlie screwed up her nose and Kent winked at her.

“You’re so bossy,” she muttered.