Page 200 of Cowboy Daddies

Was that the best she was going to get?

Nope. She didn’t think so.

“Apologize properly and I might consider it.”

He narrowed his gaze. “You’re a brat.”

Casey gasped even as she felt something stir inside her. Something that felt almost like desire or happiness.

But why would this man calling her a brat and carrying her around and fussing over her make her feel all warm and bubbly inside?

Ridiculous.

She didn’t like the feel of his arms around her. Or his very masculine scent. Or the way he took charge.

Nope.

And she definitely didn’t like him calling her a brat. She was not a brat.

She was a good girl. Just spirited, as her Granny used to say.

“I am not! And you’re terrible at apologies.”

His face twisted and he let out a noise of irritation. “Fine. I apologize for the other day. I was in a grouchy mood because I was worried about Wyatt. And I might have taken some of that out on you.”

“Apology accepted,” she said. “Even if you did call the cops on me and that asshole arrested me. He was gunning for me after you complained about me. Apparently, you’re the King of Oddity and I’m the loser pauper. Or something like that.”

“Don’t call yourself that.” He grasped hold of her chin, holding it firmly.

“Well, that’s basically the truth. I mean, I was sleeping in my car and got arrested. You can’t get much lower than that.”

“Why were you sleeping in your car?” he asked.

“It broke down and it was late at night.”

“Bob would have come out at night and towed you. And given you a ride to a motel.”

“Right. All with a hefty after-hours cost,” she said.

“Is your car fixed?” he asked.

“Not yet.”

“What’s wrong with it?” he asked.

“You ask a lot of questions,” she told him.

Jeb just stared down at her.

“I don’t owe you any answers.”

“But you’ll give them to me, won’t you?”

“Why would I do that?”

“So I can take care of them for you.”

The arrogance in that statement was kind of mind-blowing. But she wasn’t sure why she was so surprised. What did surprise her was the way she had to bite back the urge to cry.