But she was smart enough to face the facts, and the truth of it was, Piper preferred Amanda. And Willie figured if she wanted the kid to get comfortable with her, she was going to have to spend time with her.
With the blonde.
They'd have fun together, all three of them, if it killed Willie, and she was fairly certain it would. But for the love of her grandchild, she would put up with the plastics princess.
"Where you going?" Daniel called from his chair in the parlor as she kicked the mahogany front door open with her foot. "And isn't that my lunch?"
Willie shifted the basket under her arm, the scent of chicken rising to her nose. "Your lunch is on the counter. This is for Danny and Piper. And Amanda," she added grudgingly.
"She's a nice young lady," Daniel said, like a total male fool. It just figured he'd be taken in by an eight-foot-long pair of gams. "Piper seems real fond of her."
Willie gritted her teeth. Daniel had no sense of self-preservation. "Let's hope she doesn't get too attached to her. Amanda won't be staying, Daniel. The minute she gets bored, she'll be out of here."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that, Wil. Seems to me like there might be some sparks flying between her and our boy."
Willie rolled her eyes and tried not to lose her breakfast on the antique throw rug that had been Daniel's grandmother's. "A girl like that doesn't stay in a town like Cuttersville."
"My great-grandmother was a rich woman from Boston. She was visiting relatives here on the adjoining farm, the Wiesels, remember them? Sold their acreage to the Murphy boy. Anyhow, she stayed, and she was happy here. Brought most of this furniture in the house with her from back East when they married."
Willie stared at her husband of thirty years. He looked just as mild and calm and strong as he always had. She loved Daniel, adored his steadiness, and a lot of the time wished he would talk to her just a little more.
This wasn't one of those times.
"The chicken's getting cold while you give your family history. I'm leaving."
Daniel was standing up, tucking his T-shirt into his jeans. "Aren't I invited? If you're all going to be eating lunch together, why should I eat alone in my kitchen? That's downright hurtful, Wil."
And she didn't feel the least bit guilty. "You just want a gander at that plastics princess."
"I just want to spend time with you," Daniel protested, a twinkle in his eye.
She snorted and started out the front door. And nearly jumped a foot when Daniel squeezed her butt. "What?… Daniel!"
He laughed, clearly pleased with himself. And secretly, Willie was too.
Chapter 12
If Danny could pretend that kiss had never happened, Amanda could do the same.
Yeah, right. And Donald Trump's hair looked good.
She was furious with Danny, absolutely eye-poking irritated that he had kissed her with a sweetness and a passion that she had never experienced in her whole life—and then had apologized.
Apologized.
Amanda stared into the refrigerator, wishing tuna rolls would magically appear on the shelf. Danny was busy avoiding her since yesterday, and he clearly wasn't coming in the house for lunch. Which meant she had to fend for herself.
So, okay, maybe she had been the one to break off the you-know-what the day before. But she had started to worry that Piper would be sitting in the yard with her feelings hurt since she had shown Amanda her hair and then Amanda had no-showed on the swings. Or that she would come in the house in search of her and find her sitter lip-locked with her father.
Neither seemed like a good plan, and so Amanda had pulled back, but with every intention of making arrangements to pick that kiss back up later. But Danny had opened his mouth and said he was sorry, it hadn't happened, blah, blah, blah, until she felt about as sexy and wanted as a llama. With bad hair.
And now he had spoken all of two words to her in the twenty-four hours since.
And there was no freaking food in the refrigerator. How could a man as bulky as Danny live off of Velveeta and Bud Light?
She slammed the door shut. She wasn't going to have the energy to start painting Piper's bedroom this afternoon if she didn't get something to eat.
"What's for lunch?" Piper came loping into the room, an orange stain on the front of her white T-shirt, a reminder of her mid-morning Popsicle snack.
"Nothing. We're going to starve." Unhappily, Amanda had already discovered that Pizza Hut didn't deliver. They had a five-mile delivery radius from the center of town, and Danny's farm was about a fingernail outside of that. She'd tried bribery, but the teenager on the phone had said it was against the rules and had hung up on her.
Rude country kids.
"Knock, knock." The back door swung open and Willie Tucker's booming voice filled the room. She came into the room like an avocado green tidal wave, earrings dangling like sliced lime wedges.
Amanda tried not to grimace. She got very distinct vibes from Danny's mother. The I hate you and stay away from my offspring kind.
"Hi," Piper said, though she shifted onto Amanda's leg, gripping the terry-cloth of her tangerine-colored minidress.
"You two had lunch yet?" Willie held up a big basket.
Amanda forgave her for every dirty look she'd shot her way in the last week. "No, we haven't. We were just contemplating heading to town to get something."
Danny's father strolled in beside his wife and went right to the fridge for a beer. He popped the top. "Willie made us all some chicken and potato salad. Where's Danny?"
As if she knew. He was probably hiding in the barn or behind the wheel of his tractor. Anywhere he didn't have to look at her. Probably afraid she'd attack him and kiss him again. Cling to his leg or something.
"I have no idea." Her voice sounded like evil personified. She was Cruella De Vil, that creepy rich woman in the 101 Dalmatians video Piper kept having her watch. Except she would kill for coffee, not fur, because Danny had nothing but cheap, crystallized instant, which was like Tang for adults.
Hunger made her cranky. As did being ignored by a man she had made out with.
It wasn't every day she cried in front of a man, damn him. In fact, it was safe to say she had never done that.
For a minute there, she had thought that there was something real and honest happening between them, and his eyes, his mouth had all…
"I like your hair like that, Amanda," Daniel said, lifting the chicken out of the basket with a smile. "We can see your pretty face better."
Amanda touched her hair. She hadn't put the extensions back in, not wanting to imply to Piper that she was self-conscious about her ugly, boxy hair. Which she was. But Daniel's comment made her feel a bit better. "Thank you." She reached to the cabinet for six plates.