Daddy’s Wild Girl (Montana Daddies #16)

Chapter 15

15

B ebe walked out of the restaurant, smiling up at Corbin, who had his hand on the small of her back. She felt light. Happy

As though anything was possible.

The world was brighter . . . everything seemed so colorful and fun after so long being weighed down in the dark . . .

Suddenly, people surrounded her, screaming at her.

Lights went off in her face.

“Trust fund baby!”

“So talentless! She couldn’t get a real job.”

“Must be nice to live off Daddy’s money.”

“Reckless. Dumb. Selfish.”

“Too fat.”

“Too thin.”

Her breathing came in sharp pants. She couldn’t handle it; the fear was riding her hard. She turned toward Corbin, but he was glaring down at her as well.

“It’s not . . . that’s not me!” she cried.

“Of course it is, Belle,” a pompous voice said from behind her. “That’s always been you. You need a firm hand to keep you under control or you turn into a self-absorbed, entitled brat.”

She stared at the asshole. “This isn’t real! You’re not here!”

Spinning, she saw Ericc.

“I never loved you, Bebe. Why would I love you? You’re so stupid, believing that it was ever real.”

No, no, no!

He couldn’t be here too.

Moving away from him, she bumped into Corbin.

“Get away from me, Bebe! You’re just going to infect me too. And I deserve better than you.”

No! No, no, no.

How could Corbin believe them all? How could he be just like them?

Sobs broke free as everyone crowded around her. They were all pushing in on her. She couldn’t breathe!

She couldn’t breathe!

“Wake up!”

Why couldn’t she catch her breath?

“Wake up, Bebe! Breathe!”

She woke up, gasping for breath, looking around her frantically.

Where was she? Where were the cameras? The screaming reporters? The lights?

“Bebe? It’s me! It’s Corbin. Hey, you’re all right. You’re in your house with me and Hayes.”

She stared up at him for a long moment, trying to get her brain to work.

Corbin. This was Corbin. But not the Corbin from her dreams. He wasn’t staring down at her like his world revolved around her, his arm wasn’t wrapped protectively around her . . . and he . . . hadn’t turned on her when the reporters had appeared.

God, what did all of that mean?

You know what it means. You’re interested in him. You like him.

And you’re worried that he’s going to betray and hurt you like everyone else in your life has.

That he’ll turn out to be a jerk like the asshole.

“Jesus, you’re trembling.” Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around her and she knew that she shouldn’t give in. Shouldn’t let herself settle into his arms and hug him back.

But she couldn’t help it.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she clung to him. He ran his hand up and down her back.

“It’s all right, Bebe. I’m here. No one is going to hurt you. You’re safe.”

As her heartbeat began to settle and her fear started to ease, she realized just how much she liked being held by him.

They’d nearly kissed.

And she wanted that. So badly. To feel him press his lips to hers, to press her body tightly against his.

To give in to the pleasure.

But she couldn’t. She’d sworn that she was done with relationships. Yeah, she was twenty-five, but she wasn’t going to risk being torn apart again. Because she didn’t think she’d come back from that a third time.

Enough was enough.

So she drew herself back, trying not to notice that he was in his pajama pants.

And nothing else.

She hadn’t seen him without a shirt before and it was . . . it was too much.

Bebe didn’t know where to look or what to do. Ericc had been fit, but nothing like this. Corbin was chiseled. There didn’t look to be an inch of fat on him. He was tanned all over, and his shoulders . . .

Damn.

She had a thing for wide, firm shoulders. And forearms. Forearms were kind of her thing too.

You are so weird.

“Is there something wrong with my arms?” he asked.

“Have you ever considered forearm porn?” she blurted out.

Dear Lord.

Why did she have to go and say that? What was wrong with her?

“F-forearm porn?”

She felt her face growing red.

Such. A. Dork.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this embarrassed.

“Is that a thing?” he asked. “It sounds . . . somewhat disturbing.”

“It’s not like porn, porn,” she cried.

Sheesh, she was digging herself into a bigger hole here.

“It’s just that forearms on men are hot, and you could probably make some good money by putting images of your . . . you know what? Can we just pretend this conversation never happened?”

“I’m not entirely sure that we can,” he murmured.

She risked a glance up to find that his cheeks were red too.

Embarrassment or pleasure?

Yikes.

He held out his arm, turning it this way and that. “They just look like normal forearms to me. Can forearms really be sexy?”

She groaned. “I just woke up from a nightmare. I don’t think I can be held accountable for the things I say. I’m just blurting out anything. Hayes has a good butt. See? I’ve gone insane.”

“You are not to look at Hayes’ butt,” he ordered in a dark voice.

She scooted back so she could look at him more clearly. Also, she just realized that she was wearing her squirrel nightgown, which she’d washed so much that it was almost see-through. “What?”

Grabbing one of her blankets, she tried tugging it up over her chest. Which didn’t really work when he was sitting on it on the bed. The man was built way too solid.

Why . . . wouldn’t . . . he . . . move!

“Um, what are you doing?” he asked.

“Trying . . . to get . . . the . . .” Suddenly, the blanket slid out of her fingers and she went flying back. Before her head could smack into the wooden headboard, Corbin leaped into action, placing his hand behind her head.

So it simply smashed into his hand instead.

She stared up at him, her breathing erratic, trying to work out what had just happened.

And how he’d moved that fast . . .

“You’re like Clark Kent,” she whispered.

She’d always had a thing for Superman.

She bet he had impressive forearms.

Corbin helped her sit up. “Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?”

“Huh?” Her brain was still trying to figure out how he could move faster than the speed of light.

Or that’s how it had seemed anyway.

“That was . . . you moved . . . I nearly . . .”

“You nearly gave yourself a hell of a concussion,” he said sternly. “What were you trying to do?”

“I was trying to cover up my boobs so I wouldn’t be playing peek-a-boo with my nipples!”

Yikes.

That wasn’t something she’d meant to say either.

With a groan, she covered her face with her hands. “This isn’t happening. I’m still asleep. That’s the only explanation.”

“Hey,” Corbin said in a quiet voice. “Bebe, look at me.”

“I can’t. If I look at you, then this is actually happening and it can’t be. I’ve never been like this before. Do you think there’s something wrong with me? Is it a medical condition? It has to be . . .”

“Do not say that,” he replied firmly.

“You’re right. It’s terrible to say that. There are people who have actual medical conditions. And I’m a horrible, awful person for even saying that?—”

A large hand covered her mouth.

Um. She was trying to breathe here!

She attempted to speak, even though it just came out in a mumble.

“Hush, Bebe.”

She grabbed his hand, tugging it away. “You could have just said that instead of trying to suffocate me.”

“Look at me, Bluebelle.”

Uh-oh. Her whole name. She was in trouble. She glanced up at him as he moved off the bed and grabbed a blanket, pulling it up so it covered her.

“All you had to do was ask me to move so you could shift the blanket.”

Right.

She could have done that.

“Yes, well, you were freaking out about Hayes’ butt,” she said before thinking better of it.

“We are not talking about Hayes’ butt.”

Uh-oh.

He looked like he was about to reach level three and start pacing. Lord help her if he crossed his arms over his chest. At least he couldn’t order her to come to him.

“Ever?”

“Ever. You are not talking about anyone’s butt.”

“Not even yours?” This was a confusing conversation.

“Well, I, um . . .” he trailed off and ran a hand over his face. “I think I need some more sleep.”

Guilt filled her. “I’m really sorry I woke you up.”

“Don’t say you’re sorry.” He studied her with those piercing eyes and she realized he wasn’t wearing his glasses.

“You aren’t wearing your glasses.”

“No. I can still see without them; it’s just that some things are blurry. And I raced in here when I heard you screaming. Hayes did, too, but he left me to it. We, uh, didn’t want to crowd you.”

That was nice and also really embarrassing.

“I’m still sorry. This isn’t exactly in your job description.”

“I don’t care about my job description. I care about you.”

Lord.

Those words.

They hit her hard. Made her want to lean into him. To let him take care of her all the time.

You cannot fall for pretty words.

But it was more than that. He followed his words up. Every. Time.

She’d been fooled before by lies. Deceived and used by those who were supposed to take care of her.

So she should be more careful.

She’d known him ten days. That wasn’t enough time to trust in him.

“Will you tell me what the nightmare was about?” he asked. “You sounded so scared and you’d stopped breathing. It was terrifying.”

“Sorry,” she whispered again, her gaze dropping.

She felt so guilty for waking him up. For scaring him.

Always causing trouble, aren’t you, Belle?

“Hey, Bebe.” Corbin touched his hand to hers and she flinched.

Fuck.

She really hadn’t meant to do that.

“Sorry.”

His gaze narrowed down on her hand, which she had moved away from his. Something strange filled his face.

“You know I’d never harm you, right, Bebe? And I’d kill anyone who did.”

Wow. That was rather dark.

And it was also a salve on the wounds in her heart. Even if it was just words . . . it meant a lot.

“I know you wouldn’t. Sorry. I just . . . I was thinking about something.”

Someone.

“Hmm. You need to stop apologizing. I don’t like it.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Um, you’re the one who tells me I need to apologize, but now you don’t want me to apologize? You seem to be having some trouble making your mind up. Is that often an issue for you?”

“Now, there’s the Bebe I know and . . . um . . . well,” he said awkwardly.

“I think I’ll try to go back to sleep,” she said hastily.

He stood and looked around as though unsure what to do with himself.

He reached for his glasses, then seemed to realize they weren’t there. “Do you want me to stay until you go back to sleep?”

Yes. I really, really do.

“No, it’s all good. I’ll be fine. You go back to bed.”

He nodded before he started backing away toward the door. “Sleep well.”

Yeah.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t likely to happen.