Protector Daddy (MC Daddies 3)

He had to be older than her, at least she thought he was, and he was in such good shape he could be one of those fitness models.

“Millie! What happened?” He strode forward, reaching over to snag the towel she’d left on the bathroom counter.

She remembered then that she was stark naked. With a cry, she brought her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

Then she promptly burst into tears.

Spike froze as Millie started to cry.

She’d had a lot thrown at her tonight and she hadn’t once cried. He’d thought she might have broken down into tears after what happened with that Devil’s Sinner fucker.

But she hadn’t.

Then he’d figured she might after her break down at Pinkies when she’d vomited in the bathroom.

But she hadn’t.

Then he’d thought she might have cried when they’d banged heads at the motel.

But again, she’d proven him wrong.

She was crying now, though. Tears dripping down her face. Ragged sobs filled the room. The whole nine yards.

Fuck.

What should he do? Was it something he’d done? Or had she truly hurt herself?

Well, you should do something other than stand here, holding a towel while she sobs her heart out, sitting naked, wet and cold on the floor, dipshit.

“Oh, baby girl. It’s okay. Here.” He crouched down and wrapped the towel around her. But she didn’t release the tight hold she had on her legs and the towel wasn’t big enough to wrap around her. He grabbed another one, pressing it to her front.

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” he told her over and over as she continued to cry.

“It’s not. It’s not. It’s all a mess. It’s all a big m-mess.”

Fuck it.

Bending down, he wrapped one arm around her back and the other under her legs and picked her up. He waited for an objection. But to his shock, she just buried her face into his chest and continued to cry.

He hated it. Wanted to do whatever he had to in order to stop those heart-shattering tears. He’d raze cities, destroy lives.

Just for her to stop crying like her heart was breaking. These weren’t simple tears. They didn’t stem from surface-level pain. He might not be a man who understood emotions well. But he knew pain. And hers was coming from deep inside her. Something bad had happened to this girl.

And it was tearing him in two.

Because he now realized the happy, easygoing, naïve persona was just that. A put-on, a front. No way could she skim through life, not letting things get to her and have this deep well of pain if it wasn’t all pretend.

“Come on, baby doll, stop crying.”

He settled on her bed with her on his lap. Even the dog looked up from his bed to give a small yip of sympathy.

Fuck. She felt too nice pressed to his body. The scent of bubblegum clung to her skin from whatever she’d put in the bath. Had to be something she’d brought with her since he sure as shit didn’t have anything in the house that smelled that good.

Her face was turned to his chest as he rocked her back and forth.

“Hush, little baby, don’t say a word.”

He didn’t know where the words came from. She’d likely think him ridiculous for singing a child’s lullaby to her.