Daddy's Sweet Girl (Montana Daddies, #3)

by Roberts, Laylah

  She didn’t realize she was chewing on her thumbnail until Kent rescued it from her mouth.

  “You’re not waiting here. You’re not leaving my sight. Come on. You’re so stressed you’re going to make yourself sick.”

  He climbed out of the truck then came around and didn’t give her any choice but to get down. She dragged her feet as they went into the store, but he didn’t seem to notice or if he did, he didn’t say anything. He kept a tight hold of her hand as they walked inside.

  “Stay close to my side,” he ordered her as he picked up a basket, letting go of her hand. He moved down the aisle, picking up a few items and putting them in the basket. There were hair ties, bubble bath, bath toys. Things she might have been more interested if she had the energy to spare.

  They reached the aisle filled with nail polish and she stopped, staring at the colors. It had been a while since she’d painted her nails. She didn’t notice Kent getting further away.

  “Abby? Abby!” She heard him call out.

  She turned to him, surprised to see worry and a bit of anger in his face. “What?”

  “What did I tell you about sticking by my side?” He gave her several sharp taps on the ass that made her jump. They stung, but didn’t really hurt. However, they did cut through the fog in her head.

  “Kent!” She glanced around, thankfully they seemed to be on their own. “You can’t do that in here.”

  “Who is in charge?”

  Oh shit.

  “You are. But we’re in public!”

  “If you’re naughty then I’m going to address that where and when I see fit.”

  “I’m...I’m sorry I was just looking at the nail polishes.”

  He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Just stay with me, okay? Here, you hold this basket then I can have a free hand to hold yours.”

  He led her around the store, adding a few nail polishes to the basket she held. By the time they reached his truck, she was yawning. He helped her inside, doing up her belt.

  “Close your eyes, baby. Try to get a bit of rest. I was going to put you down for a nap today, but it’s so late now I’ll just put you to bed early.”

  “I don’t need to go to bed early!” She was slightly surprised at the childish note to her voice.

  “Well, luckily, you don’t decide things like that. I do. Close your eyes. Rest.”

  She sighed and obediently closed her eyes. Images of Max rushed through her mind, each one more terrifying than the last. She opened her eyes with a gasp.

  “Abby-girl? What is it?”

  “I can’t rest. When I close my eyes, I keep thinking about every bad thing that could be happening to Max. I mean, I know he brought it all on himself, but he’s still my brother. I don’t want him to get hurt or die.”

  “I know you don’t, sweetheart.” He squeezed her thigh. “You can’t keep thinking about it or you will drive yourself insane.”

  “It’s hard not to think about it.” She rubbed at her temples.

  “Headache?” he asked.

  “Little bit.”

  “Probably stress and exhaustion. When we get home, I’ll run you a bath. Afterwards we can snuggle up and watch a movie. What’s your favorite movie?”

  “Um, Fast and Furious?”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of Beauty and the Beast.”

  “Oh, I do like Tangled.”

  “Tangled it is. Just let me take care of you, baby.”

  SHE SAT ON THE SOFA and stared at the show on the T.V. screen not really seeing it. Kent was upstairs drawing a bath for her. She chewed at her thumbnail worriedly. Where was Max? Was he okay? Please, let him be okay.

  She had this horrible feeling he wasn’t, though.

  “Abby?” A hand landed on her shoulder, making her startle with a scream. She whirled to find Kent standing behind her. “Damn, baby, you’re jumpy.”

  “Sorry. Sorry.” She placed her hand against her chest as her heart threatened to leap out of her chest.

  “No, I’m sorry. I should have thought...” He sighed. “Come on, sweetheart. I’ve got a bath ready for you. Let’s help you relax.”

  She stood and walked towards him, taking his hand. “I don’t think I can relax.”

  “We’ll see.”

  She followed him up the stairs and into the main bathroom. He’d drawn her a bath filled with bubbles.

  “This looks nice. Thank you.”

  “Thank you, Daddy,” he prompted.

  “Thank you, Daddy,” she said shyly.

  He reached for her top to pull it off. She took a step back. “I can do that.”

  “Nope, Daddy is taking care of you tonight. Completely.”

  “Oh,” she said. “And that means I can’t undress myself?”

  “Nope,” he replied. He pulled off her clothing, throwing it into the corner of the room.

  “You shouldn’t throw clothes like that,” she scolded.

  “I’ll pick it up later, Miss Tidy Pants,” he teased her.

  She knew he was trying to lighten her spirits and granted him a small smile.

  “Well, it was tiny but I’ll take it,” he said.

  Once she was naked, he grasped her around the hips and lifted her into the bath. He’d taken the butt plug out as soon as they’d gotten home, much to her embarrassment.

  “Oh, this feels so good,” she said as she sat. The warmth of the water soothed her tight muscles.

  “I thought my girl would enjoy a bath. You just lie back and let Daddy wash you.”

  He grabbed a cloth and soaping it up, began washing her arms and shoulders. He moved down to her breasts, running the cloth across each nipple making them harden. A tremble rocked her, but he didn’t linger, moving down her stomach then down to each foot.

  When he rubbed the cloth over the bottom of her feet, she giggled.

  “My girl is ticklish,” he commented, doing it again.

  “Stop, Daddy,” she laughed.

  “That’s better,” he said with a smile. “I don’t like seeing you stressed and upset.”

  “I don’t like it either.” He placed the cloth higher up her thighs and she took in a sharp breath as he washed her pussy, running the cloth between her folds and against her clit. “Oh.”

  “Does my girl need an orgasm?” he asked in a husky voice.

  “Maybe,” she muttered.

  “Just maybe?” He drew his hand back. She grabbed for his wrist, holding it there.

  “No, definitely.”

  “Thought that might be the case. Just lean your head back and rest.” He ran his finger around her clit slowly as his other hand plucked at her nipple.

  “Oh. Oh. More,” she cried out. He moved his finger harder, faster.

  “I want you to come for me. Nice and hard. Let me hear you scream.”

  Her groans filled the room as she arched her hips up, shudders rocking her body as she finally reached that peak and crashed. Her body slumped into the water as lethargy swept through her.

  “Now, she’s relaxed,” he muttered.

  She opened her eyes and smiled up at him dreamily. “You’re really good at that.”

  “Why thank you, little one,” he replied with a grin. “Now, if you have the energy, please sit up so Daddy can wash your hair.”

  “I can do that,” she protested.

  He just gave her a look.

  “Okay, Daddy,” she said, sitting.

  “Here are your toys to play with.” He dropped in a rubber ducky, an octopus that could squirt water from its mouth and some cups. She grabbed the cups first and filled them up then tipped them out as he wet her hair then lathered it up with shampoo. She stared at the octopus and a naughty thought filled her mind. Kent massaged her scalp and she moaned in delight.

  “Close your eyes while I rinse,” he commanded.

  Water washed down her face as he washed her hair. Then he grabbed the conditioner. She waited until he’d given her another scalp massage. Seriously, the man could
make millions from his fingers. They had endless skills. Then she ducked the octopus under the water and squeezed it until it was full of water.

  “Okay, time to get out now.” He grabbed a towel and when he turned back, she hit him full in the face with the water squirting from the octopus’s mouth. Gales of laughter erupted from her at his shocked face. She laughed so hard, she slid under the water. Two firm hands grabbed her, lifting her as she sputtered between giggles.

  “Oh Daddy, you’re all wet.”

  “And you’re a little brat,” he muttered as he set her down on the tiled floor. She shook herself like a dog, spraying water all over him.

  He cursed as she giggled even more. A towel was wrapped around her body then another around her head, which ended up covering half her face.

  “Trouble maker, you’ve gotten me all wet.”

  “Sorry, Daddy,” she said, pushing the towel off her face.

  “Wish I could believe that you were. You need a reminder about respecting Daddy.”

  “I’m sorry, Daddy. You’re right, I should always respect my elders. And you’re really old.”

  “You’re lucky you’re so cute, that’s all I can say.” He dried her off then towel dried her hair before picking her up and carrying her into her bedroom. He set her down next to the bed then gave her a firm smack on the ass.

  “Ow!” She pouted as she reached back to rub her throbbing cheek. “That hurt.”

  “It was meant to.” He moved to her closet and chose another onesie. “Need to move your stuff into my room.” He crouched before her. “Hold onto Daddy.”

  She held onto his shoulders while she put first one foot then another into each leg of the onesie. This one was pink and had cats wearing tiaras on it. “Come on, I left your hairbrush and other stuff downstairs.”

  “My hairbrush is in the bathroom,” she told him. It was one of the few things that had survived the destruction of her house.

  “I bought you a new one today, remember?”

  Yes, and unlike her lightweight plastic thing, the one he’d bought had been a heavy, wooden one.

  He led her downstairs and put a cushion on the floor in front of the sofa. “Sit here, baby.” He grabbed the big bag of stuff he’d brought and set out the nail polish, hairbrush, a notebook, colored pencils and stickers. “Here, you can draw Daddy a picture while I do your hair.”

  “You’re gonna brush my hair?” She turned in surprise as he settled on the sofa behind her.

  “I sure am.” He grabbed the hairbrush and started combing her hair. She glanced at the notebook with a shrug. Might as well give it a go. It wasn’t long until she was completely occupied with drawing a picture of the beach, the rhythmic feel of the brush going through her hair relaxing her.

  “That’s a really good picture, baby girl. You’re quite talented.”

  Happiness filled her even though she knew he’d say that if she’d drawn something utterly awful. “Thanks, Daddy.”

  “I’m going to put it on the fridge next to your rules.”

  She screwed up her nose at the reminder but carefully ripped out the piece of paper and handed it to him.

  “Why don’t you sit on the sofa now,” he suggested.

  She realized her hair was practically dry as she climbed onto the sofa. Kent returned quickly and searched through Netflix for Tangled. Then he moved to sit on the coffee table and pulled her foot up onto his lap.

  “Daddy? What are you doing?”

  “Painting your toes.”

  “But daddies don’t paint toes.”

  “This daddy does.”

  She watched him for a moment, certain he was going to muck up and spread nail polish everywhere or only paint half her nail. But she was surprised to see him perfectly paint each individual nail.

  “You’re really good at that.”

  “Of course, I am. I’m the daddy of a little girl, aren’t I?”

  “Have you painted a lot of nails before?” she asked, surprised.

  “No, but I painted Eden’s after her accident when she was in the hospital for a long time.”

  Eden had been partially paralyzed from the accident that killed both his parents. It was so sweet to think of him painting his younger sister’s nails.

  He moved to her other foot and she turned her attention to Tangled. When he finished with her feet, he moved to her fingers, painting those as well. She started to yawn and he sat down next to her, arranging her so her head was on his lap. She tried to stay awake through to the end of the movie, but her eyelids just grew heavier and heavier until finally darkness swamped her.

  KENT GLANCED UP AS the door opened. Only one person had a key besides himself so he knew who it was. When his brother stepped inside, he held a finger to his lips, gesturing down to Abby who was fast asleep, her head resting on his thigh.

  “Well now, that’s a cute sight,” Clint said in a soft voice, sitting in an armchair next to the sofa. He glanced at the T.V. with a smirk. “Never saw you as a Tangled fan.”

  Kent raised his middle finger at him. “You knew what it was straight away.”

  “One of Charlie’s favorites. They’d probably like to watch it together.”

  Kent nodded. It was be good for Abby to get to know Charlie and Ellie. Eden too. He gathered she didn’t really have friends. Poor darling. She’d been rather isolated because of her brother’s choices.

  “So, a little birdie told me about some trouble you’ve been having. Want to explain why you didn’t tell me?”

  He didn’t ask who the little birdie was. He’d long since ceased to question how Clint seemed to know everything that went on around Sanctuary and to anyone who lived here.

  “Been a bit busy with everything going on.”

  “I can see that.” Clint glanced down at Abby. “You moved quick.”

  “I could hardly let her stay in that house. Besides the fact that it was trashed, she’s not safe there.”

  Clint nodded. “Agreed. It’s the right choice. What are you planning to do once she’s safe?”

  “Keep her.”

  “Good. Now run through everything that’s happened. I want your take.”

  Kent went over it all, leaving nothing out. His brother just listened. It was something he was good at, just stopping and listening. Especially when it came to either of his siblings.

  “Don’t know that there’s much we can do about Bartolli. You’ve put the word out that she’s under your protection?”

  “Yeah. Hopefully, it keeps him from coming after her. I’ve also got Corbin looking into him.”

  “But we can do something about Markovich.”

  “Planning to.” He glanced at the clock. “I’ve called some of the boys for a meeting about Markovich. Let them in while I put her to bed?”

  “I live to serve.”

  Kent rolled his eyes at his older brother. “I also have something I need you to take to Charlie. I’ll grab it as well.” He carefully picked Abby up, carrying her to his bedroom. He managed to pull back the covers then laid her down. He’d moved the mattress back onto the bed earlier. He placed a kiss on her forehead after tucking her in. Then he moved from the room. When he returned downstairs, he heard the low murmur of voices. In the living room sat Macca, Bain, Donovan, Zeke, Corbin and Jed.

  He grabbed everyone a beer then sat. “Corbin, get anything on Bartolli?”

  “Yeah, the family is bad news. Run by Fergus Bartolli. Owns several strip clubs, as well as other businesses, but most of his money comes from drugs and human trafficking. Apparently he’s a lecherous old bastard with a taste for young girls.”

  Kent grimaced. He studied the photo of Fergus Bartolli. He looked like an overweight frog with thinning hair and a huge mole on his lip. Next to him stood a barely legal, leggy blonde who towered above him by at least a foot. She seemed scared as she leaned as far away from him as she could.

  “That’s his latest wife, Angie. Rumor has it, she was given to him by her father. Payment for a debt o
wed.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Clint muttered.

  “Managed to tap my contacts to see if I could find out whether he’s the one who has Max. Nobody seems to know if Bartolli has him, but apparently he’s got a real hard-on for him. Someone downloaded a whole lot of documents from his computer. Included in those documents were the names of a number of Bartolli’s clients. Who don’t want their names getting out.”

  “When Max called, he said he’d lost the flash drive he had the information stored on,” Kent said with a sigh.

  “They won’t stop coming for him,” Clint said. “It’s as much about setting an example to others as getting the information back.”

  Kent nodded.

  “So, what do we do about it?” Bain asked with a frown.

  “Let’s send a couple of guys in undercover to his clubs. See if they can ferret anything out, but tell them to do it quietly. Last thing I need is Bartolli catching on that we’re watching him. Corbin, you keep doing some research, see if you can discover anything more. I’ve got a bad feeling about Max.”

  “And what about Markovich?” Jed asked.

  “He’s a different story,” Kent said darkly. “I’m going to call him and arrange for a meet.”

  “Think he’ll come?” Zeke asked.

  “He will since Clint has been making things difficult for him. I hear he’s been having trouble with his licensing and alcohol suppliers.”

  Clint just smiled.

  “Let me go call him now.” Kent grabbed his cell phone then called the number he’d had Corbin track down earlier. Five minutes later, he ended the call with a scowl. He walked back into the living room.

  “He won’t meet?” Clint asked.

  “No, he’ll agree to it, if I bring Abby with me.”

  Clint raised his eyebrows. “What? Why?”

  “Reckons he wants to check she’s all right. What fucking right does he have to worry over her? He was taking her money! I’m not taking her. It’s too dangerous.”

  “We can keep her safe, chief,” Zeke said. “And it doesn’t seem likely he’d hurt her. She’s been meeting with him for months now every week.”

  “From what I’ve heard, he rather likes Abby,” Corbin added.

  Kent scowled at the other man.