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

you have to kiss it and make it all better.”

Her mouth dropped open as he winked.

“You’re sleeping in this bed. With me. So stop worrying about it. Now, where’s Squawkers?”

“Oh, umm, I don’t need to sleep with him . . .” she trailed off as Ed stood and gave her ‘the Ed look’. That’s what she was calling it until she came up with something better. Trademark pending.

Anyway, ‘the Ed look’ came out often. Usually when he seemed to think she was doing or saying something she shouldn’t be. ‘The Ed look’ usually involved lowered eyebrows, stern brown eyes, and slightly pursed lips. ‘The Ed look’ could make her stomach take a nosedive or dance depending on the reason for its appearance.

‘The Ed look’ was both scary and reassuring all at the same time. It made her want to simultaneously rebel and be a good little girl.

“He’s in the bedside drawer.”

He grabbed Squawkers and handed him to her. Leaning over her, he kissed her forehead gently. “I know that you’re at war with yourself over your Little side. That society teaches us that we have to be a certain way and if we’re not, then we’re weird or wrong. But in this house, with me, you are neither of those things. Nor am I. Here, you can be whoever you need to be. No judgment. No right or wrong. Okay?”

His look had softened and warmth filled her tummy. “Okay.”

“That’s my good girl.”

He stepped away and turned off the light, leaving the bathroom light on. She felt exhausted, even though she hadn’t done anything all day.

“Just going to check the house one more time,” he murmured to her quietly.

She was out like a light.

My little Daisy.

So sweet. So beautiful.

And all mine.

But you broke the rules, little Daisy. And now you need to pay . . .

She sat up with a scream. Sweat coated her skin. Her heart raced so hard that she felt ill.

Sick. Going to be sick.

A hand landed on her shoulder and she screamed again.

“Easy, baby, it’s me. It’s just me. It’s Ed.”

Ed. It was Ed. He wouldn’t hurt her. She was at his house. Not with that sick bastard.

“Sick,” she croaked out.

Picking her up, he carried her to the bathroom. She threw up over and over until there was nothing left in her stomach. He held her hair back. When she was finished, he gently lifted her and sat her on the counter.

“Can you sit by yourself, baby?” he asked gently.

“Yes. I’m . . .” She stopped herself from saying it.

“You’re learning,” he said to her.

She frowned. “I’m not a dog to be taught a lesson.”

He grasped hold of her chin. “No, you’re my girl, who needs to learn to not brush her needs away.”

She sucked in a breath. His T-shirt was coated with sweat and sticking to her. She felt disgusting.

He must have realized that because the look on his face softened. “Poor baby.” He put some toothpaste on her toothbrush then handed it to her.

After she brushed her teeth, he wiped her face. Then he grabbed another cloth and wet it. Putting her hands on her thighs, palms up, he put the cool cloth on her wrists. She sighed in pleasure as the coolness helped her heated skin. He did the same with another cloth on the back of her neck.

“I’m going to get you a new T-shirt. Are you okay sitting there? You don’t feel dizzy?”

“No. I can get down.”

“Just sit there for a moment longer. Please, for me.”

It was the last part that had her nodding. He wasn’t a man who said please a lot. Not that he was an asshole. He was just used to getting his way.

When he returned with a clean T-shirt, she was feeling drained. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Hush. What did I say about waking me up when you had a nightmare?”

“You’d be upset if I didn’t wake you up.”

“That’s right. Will you let me help you change your T-shirt? Nothing more.”

“I . . . I can’t.” He’d see her scar.

Something filled his face. Disappointment? She hated to think she had disappointed him. But then he gave a decisive nod.

“I get it.”

She reached out and grasped his hand. “No, you don’t. Me not wanting you to see me like that . . . it has nothing to do with you. It’s tied to my past.”

“To do with your nightmares? The man that hurt you?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Will you tell me?”

“I . . . I . . .” Shit. Why was this so hard?

“It’s okay, Georgie-girl. You’ll tell me when you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere.”

He stepped out so she could change. Why couldn’t she tell him? What was she so scared of? That he’d think she was weak? He’d already seen her weak. He hadn’t left. He was still here. Despite everything.

“I’m ready,” she called out.

Walking in, he lifted her gently and carried her back to bed. Lying her down, he tucked her in gently. Then he climbed in beside her. She lay on her back. There was no way she’d go to sleep now. And at least if she told him in the dark, she wouldn’t have to see his face.

“He hurt me. He cut my stomach. I have a scar.”

There was silence for a long moment then he rolled towards her. “Will you show me?” He reached out and placed his hand over hers. “Take my hand and show me.”

Grasping hold of his hand, her cheeks going hot, she lifted his hand and raised her T-shirt up so it was just under her breasts. Then she placed his hand over her scar. Gently, so lightly she could barely feel it, he ran a finger over her scar. She let go of his hand, letting him explore.

“Can I kiss it? If you want me to stop at any time, just say stop.”

“Okay.”

He pushed the covers back, moving lower in the bed, curling himself up onto his side, and then leaning up on one elbow. Then he