Page 148 of Broken Daddy

She gaped at Hayes as he returned to sitting on the bed, facing her.

“He wasn’t flirting with me!”

“Of course he was. Bastard flirts with everyone.”

“Then it shouldn’t matter to you that he flirts with me.”

He gave her a stern look. “Nobody flirts with you. Especially not my friends.”

“And you can’t just tell someone to be your friend. I know I’m no expert in making friends, but even I know that much.”

He grunted. “Don’t know why not. Gets shit done quicker. Now, open up.”

He held the fork to her lips.

“What . . . what are you doing?” she asked, staring at the sausage. She’d figured that he was going to eat it.

“Trying to damn well feed you before this food gets cold. I sorted the friend thing. Now we need to get some food into you before you start fading away.”

He was impossible.

“What if I wanted the pancakes?” she asked.

“You can have some after you eat the sausage. Eat.”

“So bossy.” She took the piece of sausage, though. Because she was starving. “Beginning to see why you don’t have friends.”

Instantly, she felt awful. What was she thinking? That was mean when she really wasn’t a mean person. In fact, she detested mean people.

But to her shock, he threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, baby. That’s why I don’t have friends. But now you want me to have friends, well, I guess you’re going to help me make sure I don’t run them off.”

“That could be a full-time job,” she muttered, making him grin again.

Seriously.

She was completely addicted to those smiles of his. It was like her life hadn’t been complete until he’d smiled.

He cut up some pancake and held it up to her. “What about the syrup and butter?”

“You don’t need that stuff. Full of sugar and fat.”

“But that’s the best part!” she protested. “What’s the point of eating something without sugar and fat?”

“Baby, it’s not good for you. It will rot your teeth and spike your blood sugar.”

“Hayes, you are not taking away my sugar and fat. That’s what I live for!”

Urgh.

What the fuck was he doing?

Shaking his head at himself, he picked up the small tub of maple syrup and poured it over the pancakes. “Say when.”

“Well, that was easy,” she commented. “That’s enough. Thanks.”

“What was easy?” he asked.

“Getting you to put syrup on my pancakes,” she told him as he added butter and started cutting them up.