Page 62 of Heal Me Daddy (Montana Daddies 8)

Oh great. They were united by their irritation with her.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t mean to?” Archer asked. “The glass just spontaneously erupted out of your hand? Strange.”

“Very odd,” Doc agreed.

She huffed out a breath. “I was trying to throw water on you and the glass accidentally went with it.” Guilt filled her again.

They could have been hurt. “I really am sorry.”

“So you meant to throw the water,” Doc said.

“You were arguing. You weren’t listening.” And she had a feeling she should be running.

“Come here, little girl.” Doc crooked a finger at her. She shook her head and stepped back.

No way was she gonna do that.

“Here. Now.” He pointed at the floor then looked down at it with a grimace. “Actually. Stay where you are. I’m coming to you.”

“I’ll take care of the glass,” Archer said.

Was that a flash of regret in Archer’s eyes? Of longing? Pondering that distracted her long enough from Doc and she failed to notice that he was standing right in front of her.

“Oh shit.” She turned to run but he picked her up, swinging her over his shoulder.

“No! Put me down!” She wiggled on his shoulder, trying to free herself.

A sharp slap landed on her butt. “Stay still.”

“Nooo!”

“Brother, can you handle this?” Issy asked.

“Yep,” Archer replied. “Can you handle her?”

“Oh, with pleasure.”

Another smack landed on her bottom and she gave an outraged squeal. Then Doc turned and stomped towards her bedroom.

Shit. Shit. She raised her head to look back at Archer, hoping to plead with him to help her.

The look of complete longing on his face made her gasp. It was quickly gone. He turned away and hurried out of the kitchen. But that look. It made her heart hurt.

Did he. . .could he possibly want her too? Or was she imagining it?

Of course you’re imagining it.

Doc carried her into her bedroom and locked the door. Then he set her down on her feet. He placed his hands on her hips, giving her a stern look.

“Want to explain yourself?” he asked. A drip of water made its way down his forehead and along his nose before falling onto the floor.

“Umm, not really.”

“Not. Really?”

She studied him, trying to gauge how upset he truly was. His shirt had splotches of water on one sleeve, but most of it seemed to have gone on his face.

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