Protector Daddy

by Roberts, Laylah

When he started to unlock the door, she stiffened. Shoot! She couldn’t let him into her room.

  Reaching out, she grabbed his hand. He snatched his own hand back and the keys clanged to the ground. She tried not to be hurt that he obviously didn’t want her to touch him.

  “Shoot. Sorry.” She bent down at the same time as he did, their heads clanging together.

  Ow. Ouch. Owie.

  Rising up, she held her hand to her throbbing head and tried to convince the tears she felt welling to disappear.

  This day sucked.

  Everything was a mess. It wasn’t going the way she thought she would. She was tired. Her insides felt empty. She just wanted to have a hot shower, get into her onesie and watch cartoons on TV until she fell asleep.

  Instead, she now had some gangster out for her blood. She had to go stay with a stranger, a stranger who didn’t even like her, who seemed more than a little bit irritated by everything she said and did, where she’d have to hide everything about herself.

  And now her head hurt.

  “Millie? You okay?”

  Nope. She wasn’t okay at all.

  “Look at me.”

  Nope. Not happening.

  “Baby doll, look at me.”

  Why’d he have to use that ridiculous name? And speak in such a kind voice? If he was going around demanding and being all gruff then she could keep resisting him. Maybe.

  As it was, she had to fight the urge to lean on him. To take from him. Just for a moment.

  “I’m fine. Sorry. I need to go in by myself.” She kept her head lowered.

  “Still not looking at me.”

  She looked up at him. “I need to go in by myself. I’ll be quick, I promise. Can I have the keys?”

  “Can’t do that.” He sighed. She thought she heard a hint of regret in his voice. He unlocked the door. “Stay here. Wait for my okay.”

  Stay here? She gaped at him as he set her to the side of the door. The driver, she noticed, remained by the car watching their surroundings.

  Spike turned on the lights quickly and she walked into the doorway, shutting the door behind her. He gave her a fierce scowl that almost had her apologizing. He prowled through the room, checking the closet and under the bed.

  This was kind of over-the-top.

  Yet, she didn’t protest, because there was a part of her that liked it. Liked how protective he was, even if it was over-the-top. She always enjoyed reading books with those crazy, protective heroes. Maybe because she’d never had anyone worry over her. Not like this.

  She glanced around, noting that Chompers was sitting on her bed, right beside her onesie.

  There’s no reason to be ashamed. Lots of adults have onesies, and soft toys. He’ll never know.

  Still, as he walked into the bathroom she strode quickly over and gathered them up, wrapping the onesie around Chompers. Then she placed the small bundle as well as her handbag carefully on the floor before climbing up onto the bed. She stretched up for her suitcase, which sat on top of the wardrobe. It had been a pain in the ass to get it up there in the first place, but she hadn’t had anywhere else to put it. As she grabbed it, her foot slid out from under her on the loose covers of the bed and she started to fly backwards.

  A screech of surprise escaped her before she found herself gathered into two thick, muscular arms, and pressed against a wide chest.

  “Christ,” he grunted.

  Oh hell. Had he hurt himself? “Are you okay? You should have just let me fall!”

  She tried to scramble out of his hold. He set her on the floor on her feet, giving her an incredulous look.

  “Let you fall?”

  “I could have hurt you! I didn’t, did I?” she worried.

  “How the fuck would you hurt me?”

  “By falling on you!” She thought that was obvious.

  “Jesus,” he muttered. “You’re fucking crazy.”

  Okay, that hurt. More than it should have. It was like thousands of needles working their way under her skin and then pushing deep. She took a breath. Reality check, Millie. It wasn’t the worst thing anyone had ever said to her. It wouldn’t be the last mean thing anyone said. In the grand scheme of things, his opinion didn’t matter.

  Right. She could tell herself all of that until the cows came home. Still, didn’t make it hurt less.

  “I’ll just start packing,” she muttered, side-stepping him. Or she attempted to. He reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist, turning her. A big hand tucked itself under her chin, tilting her face up.

  Those kaleidoscope eyes of his studied her. He ran his thumb over her cheek. She knew she wasn’t crying. But it felt like he was trying to soothe away her tears.

  “Didn’t mean to hurt you, baby doll.”

  Well, whether he’d intended to or not, he had.

  He winced. “Asshole.”

  Her eyes widened. Why was he calling her an asshole?

  “Me. Not you,” he said gruffly. “I’d never let you fall.”

  For some reason he felt obligated to take care of her. She had no idea why. But she hadn’t protested as much as she probably should have.

  Yeah? Why is that, Millie? Because you actually want to be around this gruff, grumpy ass?

  Maybe.

  Sometimes she thought she was a glutton for punishment.

  “Should have asked me to get the suitcase for you,” he scolded. “Don’t do that again.”

  With soft fingers, he pushed back her hair off her face, gently prodding at the sore spot on her head from where she’d banged it into his earlier. “Needs ice.”

  “I doubt it will even bruise. I’ve had far worse, don’t worry.”

  He frowned but didn’t say anything.

  “I’ll just, uhh, pack up my stuff.”

  “This motel is crap. And it’s in a fucking bad area of town.”

  “It is? The people all seem so nice around here, though. I admit it’s not the nicest place, but I got a good deal on it. I paid for it a week in advance without seeing it first.”

  He just gave her an incredulous look. “When you said your neighbor was starting a taxi service . . .”

  “Oh yes, Manuel. He lives a few rooms down. Such a nice man.”

  Spike closed his eyes, his lips moving. He appeared to be counting. She had no idea why.

  This time when she slid around him, he let her go.

  And that was not disappointment she felt. It was not.

  She moved around, shoving things into her suitcase while Spike picked up all the dog’s toys. He glanced into the small kitchen area. “You really like jerky, huh?”

  “What?” Glancing over to where he was looking, she ran a hand tiredly down her face. “No, one of my neighbors gave it to me. I’m a vegetarian.”

  “You didn’t tell him?”

  She shrugged. “I have. He didn’t remember. And I didn’t want to hurt his feelings by refusing. Do you want some?”

  He shook his head and picked up another bag, glancing in. “Uh, doll, what the hell is this?”

  “Hmm?” She glanced over and froze. “That is not what it looks like.”

  “No?”

  “No. Honestly.”

  “So it’s not counterfeit money.”

  “Okay, it is what it looks like. But I’m not going to use it.”

  Spike drew one note out, studying it. “What the fuck?”

  “One of my neighbors makes it. The same one who makes the jerky.”

  He sighed, pinching the top of his nose. Did he have a headache? Should she offer him some pain relief?

  “You know this is illegal?”

  “Well, yes. But it’s not real.”

  He gave her an incredulous look.

  “I mean, it’s not good counterfeit. It’s just a hobby. He’s old. I didn’t like to tell him no when he insisted I bring it.”

  “Like the jerky.”

  “Umm. Yeah.”

  He zipped the bag back up, muttering something to himself. He see
med to do that a lot.

  “I’ll take this load out. Stay in here.” The look he gave her told her he meant business.

  “Sure.”

  Striding over to her, he placed the bag down then took hold of her shoulders in his hands, peering down at her. Then he placed his mouth close to her ear.

  Why did he keep doing that? Did he know the way it was affecting her?

  “You’re clearly not very obedient, so let me make this clear. Leave this room without my permission and your ass is toast. Got it?”

  Before she could reply, he was moving out the door.

  Did he just threaten to spank her?

  Holy. Heck.

  12

  Spike buckled her seatbelt before she could reach for it.

  He felt her stiffen. But wasn’t sure if it was because he was being bossy and crowding her or because when he slid the belt over her, he accidentally brushed his hand against her breasts.

  Maybe both.

  He’d given her space while she packed her personal things, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t noticed the stuffed dinosaur she’d attempted to hide. Or the stash of candy she drew out of one of the kitchen cupboards. He’d also spotted a pair of dinosaur slippers next to the bed.

  None of that meant anything. Lots of adults had slippers and soft toys. It didn’t mean she was a Little.

  But it also wouldn’t surprise him if she was. In fact, it might explain a few things. This overwhelming need he had to protect her, for one thing.

  However, it wasn’t his business, even if she was. And the red in her cheeks as she’d hastily hidden the toy dinosaur told him that she wouldn’t appreciate him asking her.

  What worried him were the bottles of pills in the bathroom. He wondered what they were for. And if she would tell him.

  She had an independent streak. She tried to do everything herself. Who’d been looking after this girl that she thought she had to carry her own suitcase? That she was so shocked when he wanted to do things like check through her motel room to ensure it was safe? Or catch her when she slipped and fell?

  He was still in a state of disbelief over that one. Had she really thought he would let her fall?

  She was a menace. That was for certain. He didn’t think bubble wrap would help. Hell, he wasn’t even certain that locking her up in Ink’s safe room would help. He had a feeling she could find trouble anywhere.

  Not on his watch.

  The driver pulled up outside his gate. Raul had been here a few times with Steele. Spike didn’t like strangers coming up to the house, but Raul had been with Steele a long time.

  The electric gates opened automatically, sensing the controller in his pocket. The car moved slowly up the driveway. Lights shone along the driveway then security lights flickered on at the house. It had six bedrooms and three bathrooms. There were two levels and a wrap-around porch. But he’d bought it because of the land. It was set on just less than five acres, on the outskirts of the city.

  It was an older house he’d slowly renovated. The neighbors were far enough away that you couldn’t see or hear them. It gave him the privacy he wanted but he could still get into the city in under forty minutes.

  “Oh wow,” Millie said, looking out at the farmhouse. She’d probably been expecting something more like where Ink lived. A big, renovated warehouse. Or maybe where Duke lived, a small house in suburbia.

  Although, no one had really expected Duke to end up in a house like that. Duke was the only one out of them who regularly had everyone over to his place. Spike had been to Ink’s place maybe a handful of times. Razor’s place, he’d been to more often. He had no clue where Jason or Reyes lived. They were far more private.

  Most of the people closest to him hadn’t seen his house, yet he’d fought Steele to bring a virtual stranger here.

  Yep, he wasn’t going to think too closely about that one.

  Raul opened her door. Shit. He’d been too slow. She tried to climb out but seemed to have forgotten about her seatbelt.

  “Shoot,” she muttered. Reaching over, he undid it for her and she sent him a smile. It did something strange to his insides, seeing her smile at him like that.

  Easy, idiot.

  After getting out, he grabbed her suitcase from where Raul had set it on the ground and nodded his thanks to the other man. He left the piles of dog things outside for the moment. How she’d managed to accumulate so much stuff for one small dog in a few short days he had no idea. This dog owned more shit than he did.

  The driver turned around and left. Spike started up the steps and pressed a code into the keypad by the door. When the light went green, he pressed his finger to the pad reader.

  “Whoa, that’s high-tech. Back home most people don’t even lock their doors when they leave the house.”

  Okay, he did not like the sound of that. But he bit back his reply as he led the way inside. He reset the alarm and checked the camera for the front gate to make sure that Raul had gone through.

  “Are you some kind of security tech specialist?” she whispered.

  “Nah, just like my privacy.” Ink had put in the system himself. He was the only one of the guys who had been here. He’d teased him for a while, calling him rancher Spike, even though he didn’t have near enough land for a farm nor did he own any animals. But still that asshole had continued to rib him.

  At least until Spike gave him a black eye and told him to shut the fuck up before he got really mad.

  Ink had just grinned.

  Jerk.

  “Oh,” she said, staring in awe at the system. The video feed flicked continuously through the cameras around the property, letting him see it from all angles. Although the alarms would tell him if there were any intruders.

  “Come.”

  He led her through the house. Lights flicked on as they walked, set on sensors once the sun went down.

  His footsteps were silent on the hardwood floors as he walked to the stairs. “Kitchen’s downstairs to the right. Help yourself.” There were four bedrooms upstairs and two downstairs. He stopped outside the door to one of the spare bedrooms. He pointed across the hall. “Bathroom.” He opened the door. “Your room.”

  The light came on, showing the fairly utilitarian room. A bed with a gray cover. A set of bedside drawers. A wardrobe. And a large window looking out on the back garden. He set her suitcase on the bed and strode to the curtains, pulling them closed.

  “I’ll get the dog’s stuff.” And the bag full of counterfeit. Which he’d stick in his safe. Fucking hell. He should probably just burn the stuff.

  “O-okay. I’ll help you.”

  “No.”

  She flinched and he grimaced. He wasn’t used to explaining himself.

  “Cold out. Stay in where it’s warm.”

  She nodded. “Thanks.”

  He strode out of the house and grabbed the stuff up, trying to make it all in one go. He left the food and water bowls downstairs in the kitchen, along with the huge bag of food then made his way up with the bedding . . . and a bag of what looked to be dog clothing?

  Really?

  Climbing the stairs, he entered her room, surprised to see her still standing there. Her handbag was on the bed and the dog had managed to find the energy to crawl out and was currently curled up on her pillow.

  Spike placed the dog bed down, putting the bag of clothing next to her suitcase on the bed. Then he shifted the dog onto his bed before turning back to her, wondering why she was so quiet. She’d barely spoken since they’d arrived.

  Her arms were wrapped around herself, her eyes flicking around the room. She licked her full lips. The red lipstick she’d had on earlier was gone. She appeared pale and fragile. And he felt the urge to take her into his arms, to reassure her that everything would be all right.

  Clearing his throat, he just stared at her, uncertain what to say. Words weren’t his specialty. He was a hands-on sort of guy.

  “It’s late.”

  She nodded.

 
; “You should sleep.”

  Her gaze shifted to the bed. She nodded again. So his attempts at reassuring her were pretty crappy.

  “Want some help?”

  Her forehead puckered into a frown. “With sleeping?”

  “Unpacking.”

  “Umm, no.”

  “Leave it until morning. Go to bed. Sleep.” Yes, he was aware he sounded bossy and gruff. But the more she just stood there, the greater his urge to take over became. To undress her himself. To take her to the bathroom and help her get ready for sleep. To tuck her into bed. Wrap her in his arms. And . . .

  Fuck. He needed that cold shower. He hadn’t reacted to another woman like this since . . . since Jacqui died. Okay, that reminder worked better than any cold shower.

  You can’t let yourself feel anything for her.

  “Yes, you’re right. I’ll do that.”

  Right. Fuck. Shit. He should leave. Let her get ready for bed. He walked out, turning back at the door. “Need anything?”

  “N-no. I’m fine. Thank you.”

  She didn’t sound fine. She sounded lost and alone. And he hated it. He wanted that smile back on her face. That carefree way she approached everything and everyone. As though she’d never met anyone she couldn’t charm.

  “Sleep in tomorrow. Don’t want you up before nine.” He walked out into the hallway before he could say anything he might regret.

  Like . . . come sleep with me.

  He strode into the master suite after checking that the house was secure. The master suite was much the same as the room he’d put her in. Utilitarian. Boring. He didn’t care. He only used this room to sleep in. But the whole house was like this.

  Maybe he should have let her go stay with Damon. His house was easily four times the size. Luxurious. And even more secure. He had several armed guards roaming the grounds and inside the house.

  Spike ground his teeth together at the thought of her with Steele and Grady. He just hadn’t been able to stomach it.

  Stripping off his clothes, he chucked them in the dirty laundry and made his way into the attached bathroom. He turned the water on and climbed in while it was still cold.

  Unfortunately, it did nothing for his raging hard-on. Leaning one hand against the shower wall, the water cascading down his back, he took hold of his dick, running his hand up and down the length.