Sheriff Daddy (Montana Daddies Book 10), Laylah Roberts [tohfa e dulha read online .txt] 📗

Her stomach.

Not only had she eaten a much bigger portion for lunch than she normally would, but then she’d scoffed down three pieces of chocolate.

“You okay, Georgie-girl?” Ed asked as she shifted around.

“Fine, honey bun.”

Liar.

A clap of thunder suddenly made her gasp.

“Wondered when that would hit. You scared of thunder?”

She could use that as an excuse for why she kept fidgeting. But she felt like she was already keeping enough secrets. “No, I’m all right with thunder as long as it’s not dark.” That was a big thing for her to admit. Letting someone else know she had a weakness . . . that wasn’t something a James did.

“What’s something a James doesn’t do?” he asked.

Crap. She’d said that out loud?

He shifted her so her back was against his firm stomach. She held herself stiffly. What did she do? Should she lean against him?

He made the decision for her, wrapping his arms around her and tugging her into him. “Relax,” he whispered to her. “I’m not going to bite.”

Bummer.

“Bummer?”

“Urgh, I’ll tell you what a James doesn’t do, and that’s blurt out everything they’re thinking!”

His chest moved as he laughed. Unfortunately, that didn’t help her stomach calm.

“I think it’s cute. Helps me know what you’re thinking. Although that wasn’t what you were talking about, was it?”

“I’m letting you know about all of my weaknesses,” she complained.

“And why do you think that is?”

“Because I seem to have a filter issue when it comes to you? Maybe you’ve done some special voodoo on me that makes me tell you my every thought.”

He leaned in and lightly bit her ear. A shiver ran through her. “There it is. Special voodoo.”

He laughed.

“And I thought you said you didn’t bite?” she asked.

“I only bite when I think you might like it. Now, were you ever going to tell me that your tummy hurts?”

“Urgh, I thought I was hiding it well.”

“Yeah, honey, you totally weren’t. What’s the matter?”

“Think I ate too much. Or maybe it was the chocolate. I don’t know.”

“Shit. Should have thought of that. What can I do to help? What do you need? A heat pad? Some club soda?”

“It’s fine.” She blushed at his fussing. She’d figured he’d just shrug it off and leave her to deal with it. “I’m—”

He reached around and placed his hand over her mouth. “If you say you’re fine, I’m going to have to do something drastic.”

He removed his hand.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe every time you say the word fine, I’ll have to tickle you. I could make you kiss me, but then you’d just do it more.”

She turned to gape at him.

“I know how much you like kissing me.” He shook his head. “Yeah, you’d be saying you were fine every few minutes.”

She had to laugh. “You are so full of yourself.”

“Hmm, what could I do to get you to stop saying that you’re fine?” He tapped his finger against his chin and studied her. “I know, I could make you stand in the corner. A minute for every time you say you’re fine. I reckon by the end of the day, you’d be standing in the corner for an hour.”

“You can’t do that!”

His face dropped. “You’re right. I forgot about your foot. Of course, that won’t take long to heal.”

“That wasn’t what I meant! I’m not standing in the corner.”

“All right, writing lines it is. Every time you say you’re fine you have to write five lines. Something like, ‘I will not say I’m fine when I am not.’”

He wouldn’t! Would he? Oh hell, what did she know? He probably would. She narrowed her gaze at him. “That’s not very nice, Daddy.”

Oh shoot. She slammed her hand over her mouth. There went that filter. But before she could say anything to him, her stomach chose that moment to protest. She groaned, grabbing at it.

“Ouch.”

“Do you feel sick?”

“No, I just . . . can you get my handbag?”

“Why? What’s wrong? What do you need?”

She rubbed at the burning in her stomach. “Ed, handbag. Please.”

Standing, he set her down on the chair.

“You’re too pale. And in pain. I don’t like it. Maybe it’s your appendix.”

“It’s not my appendix.”

“I’m calling Xavier.”

“No, Ed!” she protested as he left. Shoot. All she needed was her handbag. She knew that she’d probably just eaten too much and her stomach was protesting. Some antacids and she’d be fine.

She stood. Where did she put her handbag?

“What are you doing?” Ed snapped, startling her.

“Sheesh, give a girl a heart attack. I’m looking for my handbag.”

He strode towards her, his arms piled high with blankets. “You’re not supposed to be walking around. Lie down. I’ll get it for you.”

“Ed, you’re over-reacting. My stomach’s just sore because I ate too much. I just need some antacids. Which are in my purse.”

“I don’t think you should take those until we check with Xavier,” he told her. Then he gently arranged her on the sofa and started piling blanket after blanket on top of her.

After two, she started to sweat. By the time he put blanket number four over her, she felt like she was suffocating. He didn’t need to worry about the tummy ache doing her in, she was going to expire from overheating.

He had his phone out, no doubt calling Xavier as he grabbed her handbag and a bowl.

“Xavier, it’s Georgie. She’s not well.”

“I’m fine, Xavier,” she called out loudly. She tried to break her way free from the pile of blankets to grab her handbag. But he’d tucked them around under her.

“Fine, I’ll put you on video call,” Ed muttered into the phone.

“Hello, sweetheart, how are you?” Xavier asked.

She gave the phone a disgruntled look. Xavier smiled through the screen at her. “Ed won’t let me walk anywhere. I have a sore tummy because I ate too much and I just need some antacids. But Ed insisted on calling you and now I’m sweating under a pile of blankets. And embarrassed.”

“All right, you do look a bit flushed and sweaty. Ed, I