Protector Daddy (MC Daddies 3)

Definitely not a question this time. She still shook her head, wincing slightly as a sharp pain engulfed one side of her head. Shoot. She hoped that wasn’t going to turn into a migraine.

“You need anything

else?”

She glanced up into the doorway to see Grady standing there. He gave her a small smile. “Ibuprofen? Another glass of water?”

“A time machine to go back ten minutes?” she said dryly.

“Only ten?” he said with a wink. “Not further back to before you had to stun gun that asshole?”

“No, because then he might have succeeded in dragging Tawny out of here and I don’t think she would have fared well.”

Grady’s face softened. He glanced down at Spike, his eyes narrowing. “Isn’t every day that something sweet lands in your life after a lifetime of sour. Sweet things need to be guarded. To be treated for the rare treasure they are. Not thrown away and discarded.”

He disappeared.

“What was that about?” she asked, thoroughly confused.

He shrugged. “Color’s better. This a reaction to what happened earlier?”

As an explanation it was as good as any. Okay, it was a lie. But only a little white one. Surely Reverend Pat would understand.

She nodded her head, not actually trusting herself to answer him without giving herself away.

“Was starting to wonder if you had any common sense,” he grumbled.

She frowned at him. Of course she had common sense. It was just that she didn’t like to dwell on things. Once she started thinking, well, she never stopped. And she didn’t have time for that. She had a mission to accomplish.

Spike suddenly stood and picked her up. But instead of setting her on her feet, he lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the bathroom into the other room.

She blushed bright red.

“Stop wiggling,” he growled.

“Please put me down before you hurt yourself.”

“Why the fuck would I hurt myself?”

But he did set her down on the sofa.

“You didn’t injure your back, did you?”

He gave her an incredulous look.

“My dear, I hope you’re not implying that you’re too heavy for Spike to carry around,” Grady said, leaning back with one arm along the back of the sofa opposite them. Damon sat next to him, studying her intently.

She went bright red. “Well, I’m not exactly light.”

Spike made a grumbling noise of discontent. Then he leaned in, placing his hands on the back of the sofa on either side of her so she was boxed in.

“No.”

No? That was all? Just no? No, what? No, he hadn’t hurt his back?

What was going on with him right now? He stepped away into the kitchen.

“I think what Spike was trying to say, my dear, is that you shouldn’t be disparaging yourself. You’re gorgeous. Lush. Sexy. Those curves.” Grady ate her up with his gaze.