Heiress for Hire (5 page)

Danny grinned, pleased he had made her laugh.

Amanda didn't look amused. She sniffed. "Farmer Funny. How quaint."

They locked gazes. While her expression was aloof, Danny saw something in those green eyes that gave him pause. If he didn't know better, he'd think that was interest there. Attraction. Lust.

But he did know better, and he wasn't falling for the trick his body was playing on him. There was nothing good that could come out of dallying with Amanda Delmar, and that was even more obvious now that he had a child to look out for.

He broke eye contact and pointed behind her. "Girl's department. Right there."

Danny Tucker liposuctioned the fun right out of shopping. He had to be so damn practical.

"Where is an eight-year-old girl going to wear high heels on a farm?" he asked calmly when she showed him an adorable pair of hot pink kitten heels that had an absolutely heart-stopping price tag of only twelve ninety-nine.

"Who cares? For twelve ninety-nine she could wear them once in the house and it would still be a bargain."

Danny shook his head. "Put those back."

She rolled her eyes and slapped them on the shelf, disgruntled. That was the fourth pair of shoes he had vetoed since they had measured Piper's foot with the metal thingy.

He picked up a pair of gym shoes and held them out to her. "What about these?"

"Perfect, if you like ugly and have absolutely no sense of style whatsoever." Amanda pushed them away from her, afraid their hideousness might contaminate her airspace. "They're white and clunky and generic. Eeww."

Piper sat on the floor, letting Baby run around her lap. She looked only mildly interested in their conversation, which was unfathomable to Amanda. Here they were deciding her entire fashion future, and Piper would rather pet the dog.

"Okay, so white and clunky is out. You pick something cute then, since I'll admit I don't know anything about cute. But just nothing with a heel, alright?"

He didn't know anything about cute. He had no idea how freaking cute he was himself. Amanda turned away from him to study the sneaker section. It was starting to annoy her that she was attracted to him. Here they were shopping, which should be taking all her concentration, and she was doing the nipple-tingle thing again.

Maybe it was his modesty that she found so intriguing. Or the way he never lost his cool. Steady as a rock. A very big, buff rock.

Tingle. There it was again. Damn.

Amanda snagged a lavender pair of shoes off the rack. "These aren't bad. A little rubbery for my taste, and the stitching looks uneven, but what can you expect for fifteen bucks? Children in third-world countries can't be expected to sew our cheap shoes straight."

Danny inspected the shoes. "These are fine. Flat sole."

Amanda held them out for Piper. "What about these shoes, Piper? Like them?"

The little girl's eyes widened with naked pleasure. She swallowed hard. "How much do they cost?"

"Fifteen dollars."

Piper's shoulders sagged. "Those are too much money. I don't really need new shoes, these still fit."

And could be condemned by the health department. Amanda didn't even want to consider what vermin had crawled over those grubby shoes Piper was wearing. Plus there was a hole gaping at the toes of the left one.

Danny looked horrified. His jaw locked and his eyes were dark, though he kept his voice even, gentle. "I want to get you new shoes, Piper." He squatted down next to her. "See, I didn't get to buy you shoes for eight whole years, and I've got some time to make up for. It would make me feel better if you let me buy you these."

Amanda didn't see how Piper could resist that kind of earnest plea. Hell, after that speech, she'd let Danny buy her shoes if he wanted.

Piper nodded.

He reached for her hand, and she took it, letting him pull her to her feet. "Let's go get some shorts and T-shirts."

T-shirts. How exciting. He really wasn't getting into the spirit of this. Amanda took the cart and started to push it along behind them, slowing down as she passed the flip-flops. She grabbed a white pair in Piper's size. Then a red pair. And the pink kitten heels.

Piper spotted them in the cart the minute Danny started wandering through the clothing racks, looking at shorts. Her eyes widened, and she glanced at Danny's back.

"It's okay," Amanda reassured her. "You need flip-flops for the pool."

Not that she was sure a pool even existed in Cuttersville, but it was summer. Gym shoes made your toes sweat and shrivel into little white sausage links. Every girl needed flip-flops, and they were only three bucks a pair. She couldn't get a cup of coffee for three bucks in Chicago.

If the kid bit her lip anymore, she was going to do permanent damage. And then how would her lip gloss look? Amanda gave her a reassuring smile. "Trust me, Piper. Auntie Amanda is going to hook you up."

Piper cocked her head. "You're my… dad's sister?"

God forbid. That would make her a farmer's daughter, and that would mean she couldn't be staring at Danny Tucker's butt right now. Which she was. His butt was nice and tight in those well-worn jeans.

"You do kind of look alike," Piper added.

That made Amanda laugh. "We both have blond hair, don't we?" She just had a hell of a lot more, not that all of it was real. She had chin-length hair, but her extensions went down to the middle of her back. Other than the hair color, though, she didn't see the resemblance.

"But no, I'm not your dad's sister. We're just like friends." Sort of. Not really. "When I came here to Cuttersville, the only person I knew was Boston, Shelby's husband. And Shelby is your dad's ex-wife. So that's how I know Danny." And that sounded really complicated to be explaining to an eight-year-old.

But Piper nodded. "My mom had two ex-husbands, and Mark had an ex-wife. Is Shelby a greedy bitch? That's what Mark said all ex-wives are."

Okay, then. Amanda covered her mouth so it wouldn't free-fall open. "Ummm…" There probably wasn't any good answer to that, so she improvised. "Not all ex-wives are… what Mark said. Just like not all people are mean or short or have blue eyes. Shelby's a nice person, and she and Danny are still really good friends."

Piper's mouth pursed. "Oh. So do you live with my dad?"

Hel-lo. "Uh, we're kind of brand-new friends." As opposed to live-together-sleep-in-the-same-bed friends. Amanda grabbed a cute little red sundress. "What do you think of this dress?" When in doubt, change the subject.

"That's nice," Piper said with the enthusiasm Amanda's father showed for the opera.

"Okay, maybe not." Amanda stuck it back. "I bet you look great in blue." She fingered a blue-striped skirt arid tank top. "What about this one?"

"I guess. Sure." Piper kicked at the carpet on the floor and stuck her hands in her pockets. "Anita doesn't really like it, though."

"Who's Anita?" And why was Amanda supposed to give a crap what she thought?

"She's my friend." Piper pointed to the empty spot right next to her.

Ah. The imaginary friend thing. That didn't bother Amanda, except Anita had no taste. She vetoed the next three dresses Amanda held up.

"Does Anita like this one?" Amanda grabbed at a pink terry dress with spaghetti straps.

"Uhhh…"

Danny walked over with three pairs of denim shorts and three T-shirts. One red, one blue, and one white with a rainbow on it. "How about these?"

Piper's face lit up. "I like those." Her finger reached out and traced the rainbow.

Like father, like daughter apparently. The kid liked the most basic, boring outfit in the whole store. Amanda glared at Danny.

He shrugged. "What? They're good farm clothes. Running around, getting dirty. That's what kids do."

Amanda didn't remember ever getting dirty as a child. She had always been pretty certain it was against the law. "She'll need at least ten outfits to start out with, if you don't want to do laundry every day. Jeans and a sweater for cooler nights. And she has to have some kind of dress or capri pants for eating out in restaurants, going to weddings, vacations, that sort of thing."

Danny lifted his hat off his head. "Well, I don't really do any of those things."

"You don't ever eat in restaurants?" This town wasn't exactly a happening mecca of gourmet cuisine, but everyone had to eat out once in a while. Didn't they?

"Just the Busy Bee. And no one needs a dress to eat there."

That was true. "Just buy a dress," she said in irritation. Who was the shopping expert here? "You never know when she'll need one. And she'll need three bathing suits, four or five nightgowns— bare minimum—panties, a belt, and jewelry."

"Jewelry? Why?"

Why not was the better question. "Because every woman needs some bling."

Danny figured Amanda had enough bling to count for all of Cuttersville. Besides, Piper didn't look like a bling-bling kind of kid. She was recoiling in horror at the silver chain belt Amanda was dangling in front of her.

They'd be lucky if they got that grubby hat off her head. They weren't going to succeed in making her over into a mini-Amanda. He was starting to think it had been premature to panic and request help. He could have handled this whole shopping thing himself. Kids weren't all that different from adults. They needed functional clothes, in all the same number that he had.

Not high heels, a whole stack of dresses, and diamonds.

"We'll save the bling for another day. Right now we just need the basics."

Amanda sighed, but she popped her dog back into her purse. "I need two hands, or we'll be here all night."

The thought gave him indigestion. The Cuttersville Wal-Mart wasn't open twenty-four hours, but it was still almost two hours until the ten P.M. closing time.

"Okay, just the basics." Then she was off and running, slapping together shorts and shirts in a dizzying variety of colors and styles, holding them up to Piper before flinging them in the shop-ping cart. No fewer than six packs of underwear were tossed on top, from the princess pair, to a floral pack, to a matching purple undershirt and panties set.

Amanda was heading toward the nightgowns when she was sidetracked by the umbrella rack. "Oooh, Hello Kitty. Tres adorable." And she popped open the umbrella right in the middle of Wal-Mart.

"I don't really think Piper needs an umbrella. That's what a hood is for."

"It's not for her. It's for me."

Of course. He should have known that. Not.

Now she was loading stationery and pens into the cart. She pulled them from a strategically placed display designed to suck in young girls while they were shopping for socks. Or twenty-five-year-old heiresses.

"Look, it's little tiny envelopes and tape with Kitty on it, and Post-it notes. This is too cute."

He looked at Piper and rolled his eyes. She giggled.

Amanda twirled the open umbrella on her shoulder and struck a pose. "Is it me?"

Her leg was bent, her hip out, lips open in a pouty smile, hair trailing down her chest. All that bronze and bare skin taunted him, teased him. That skirt was so short, he could slip his hand under it and be right there. The thought made his mouth go dry. He was getting used to feeling a kick of lust whenever she was around, but that didn't make it any less uncomfortable.