Page 145 of Broken Daddy
“Yourbaby?”
His face softened. “My baby.” Reaching out he brushed his fingers through her hair. “I’m going to take care of this today.”
“Take care of this?” she asked, reaching up with her good hand to feel her hair. “Oh my God! It’s a mess! A disaster!”
And she hadn’t showered in days.
She expected him to tell her that it was fine or to try and placate her but he merely grinned. “It really is.”
She stared at him. It was so rare for him to smile and when he did . . . Lord, gorgeous didn’t even come close to covering it.
Sexy. Handsome. Beautiful.
Nope. There wasn’t a word to describe when Hayes smiled other than truly breathtaking. And she wanted more.
Yep, she was greedy.
“And I probably stink. I’m so sorry. It might be best for you to move away from me.”
Okay, now he didn’t look amused. “What have I told you about putting yourself down?”
“It’s not putting yourself down if it’s the truth!” she protested. “I haven’t showered in days. I’m not sure how I’m going to manage with this. And this.” She waved a hand at her arm and then at her face.
Which she still hadn’t seen.
Ew. And when was the last time she’d brushed her teeth? She swung her legs to the side, away from him.
“Whoa. Where are you going?” he asked, grabbing her hip gently.
She held a hand up over her mouth. “To brush my teeth.”
“Baby.”
“My breath must be awful! Oh my God! I’m so sorry I’m a mess.”
“Hey, look at me. Look. At. Me.” There was a sternness in his voice that had her turning to him.
“Stop this nonsense, hear me?”
“Stop this nonsense?” she repeated. “Is that . . . is that meant to be soothing?”
“Why would it be soothing?”
“Well, because when someone is in the hospital, I’m pretty sure you’re meant to be soothing. Especially when they’re having a meltdown over their breath smelling like a badger who’s gone on a two-day bender. And their hair looks like the nest of a woolly mammoth.”
“Your breath does not smell like that. And I don’t think woolly mammoths had nests.”
She narrowed her gaze. But her hair did look terrible. She could tell even if she couldn’t see it.
“I’m starting to get grumpy about how often I’m having to tell you to stop putting yourself down. You don’t want to see me grumpy.”
“I don’t . . . see you . . . grumpy?” she managed to get out. “Are you . . . have you lost your mind?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re always grumpy!” she told him. “It would be more of a shock to see you in a good mood.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that so? Hmm, would you rather I went back to grumpy?”
