"You're poor?" Danny Tucker asked in disbelief.
Amanda looked up and saw the farmer standing in the doorway to Shelby and Boston's minute floral parlor. He filled the whole doorframe with muscular man. Completely filled it, entirely from one side to the other, and Amanda felt a tingling in her br**sts that was not the aftereffects of surgery. At twenty-one she had gotten breast implants as a college graduation present to herself. At twenty-five, she'd gotten them removed, having decided that br**sts didn't make the woman.
Clothes did.
And she liked her body to be completely her own, with no embellishments, although unfortunately right now her au naturel body was choosing to be sexually stimulated by the mere sight of Danny Tucker standing in a doorway.
She did not understand her attraction to him. She'd never been one for the brawny type—the outdoors, work-with-his-hands manly man. To her, they had muscles—sure, that was good—but manual laborers were also just sweaty and dirty, something that so did not appeal to her. Yet Danny Tucker brought out primal female urges in her—in what she had determined was the instinctive need to mate with the strongest in the herd.
It was sociological, really, that was all. Evolution at its best, and had nothing whatsoever to do with her actually liking a smalltown farmer. Because that would be ludicrous for any number of reasons, starting with dirt and ending with bugs. She wasn't fond of either one, so she couldn't actually like Danny Tucker.
Yet after her last relationship, which had been akin to swimming in moral sewage, Danny Tucker was really appealing.
"Yes, I'm poor. I've been cut off. Stranded. Abandoned." She was about to wax enthusiastic on the cruelty of fathers rearing socialite daughters only to abandon them to the tender mercies of poverty when she realized there was a child standing behind Danny.
So did Shelby, who dropped the towel in her hand on top of the lemonade puddle, sending Baby scurrying out of the way.
"Who's your friend, Danny?" Shelby asked.
Amanda mopped at the floor while Baby tried to take in a few last frantic licks of the sweet liquid.
"This is Piper." Danny's hand went on the kid's shoulder. "She's my daughter."
Amanda hadn't seen that one coming. She let go of the towel and sat up, taking a closer look at the kid, astonished. Danny Tucker just didn't seem like the kind to have a child nobody knew about.
But given the fact that a Mini Cooper could drive into Shelby's gaping mouth with no trouble whatsoever, no one knew about this one.
"Excuse me?" Shelby asked, her voice tight.
Boston shot her a nervous look.
The little girl, who was scruffy at best, dirty at worst, took a tentative step forward, her eyes on Amanda's dog.
Picking up Baby and grimacing at the stickiness of her coat, Amanda held her out. "Did you want to see her? She's a teacup poodle, and two pounds of terror."
The little girl glanced up at Danny reluctantly, then over to the dog with longing. She shook her head.
"Go on," Danny told her. "It's alright. She's a cute little puppy, isn't she?" He gave the girl a nudge, and she took two steps, dragging her feet.
Amanda heard the gentleness in his voice, but she also saw the pain on his face. Saw the way his hand shook just a little. It did something to her chest, made it tighten, made her feel an uncomfortable sort of something for him that was completely unrelated to sexual attraction.
She smiled at the girl but listened to Danny murmur to Shelby, "I didn't know anything about her. Her stepfather just dumped her on my doorstep."
Oh, wow, that was rough. Amanda could say a lot of things about her father, but he'd never been out and out cruel. Neglectful, yes. Judgmental, yes. Incapable of being pleased, oh yeah. But never cruel. It made her realize that in the grand scheme of things, she didn't have a whole lot to complain about.
Danny's words had Amanda's smile going brighter, as she held out her dog for the little girl, hoping to distract her. Not that she knew a damn thing about kids, but everyone liked puppies, and God, she wanted this kid to feel better. She knew the pain of rejection. This kid's must be a thousand times worse. "Her name is Baby. What's your name again?"
"Piper." The voice was quiet, wavering. Her hand came out and tentatively touched the top of Baby's head before she jerked it back.
"Who's her mother?" Shelby asked in a low voice, and Amanda couldn't mistake the jealousy there in her voice. Hell, who could blame her? She realized Shelby must have been married to Danny at the time of Piper's conception.
Amanda would have thought that he was better than that, Danny Tucker, and her own naivete made her want to laugh. God, how stupid could she be? When would she ever learn that men just did what they wanted, when they wanted. Coming to the country in a quest for a better male specimen was doomed to failure.
Not that she had done that. Please. But if she had been hoping that somehow the men of Cuttersville were truer, better, more honest, then clearly she would have been wrong. Men were all alike. Different dick, but still the same prick.
"She likes it when you scratch behind her ears," she told Piper, disgruntled at her disappointment that Danny was just another ordinary, selfish man like all the ones she had met before. He could hide it behind a smile and a polite good ol' boy charm, but if he had cheated on his wife, he was a jerk, plain and simple. She should be glad he hadn't responded to her flirting.
Danny's voice was low, so Amanda had to strain to hear him. "Uh, Nina Schwartz, a girl from Xenia I met at the county fair. It was just that one time, Shel, and it was that summer we were split up, remember? That summer you dated Eric White, the football player."
Amanda watched Shelby pull a face. "Eric was an idiot."
"So was I apparently." Danny paced back and forth. "The step-dad says Nina died. She never told me there was a baby, Shel, not even a hint. She never even asked for my phone number or to see me again." His voice rose. "How was I supposed to know?"
And how was Amanda supposed to stay irritated with him when he went and showed he wasn't a complete and total ass**le? And why did his distress and confusion make her feel so flipping happy?
Because she wanted to believe Danny Tucker to be the nice guy she'd thought him to be. She wanted to shed some of the cynicism that coated her like a spray-on tan.
Which meant it was time for a mental eye roll. Mea culpa, she was becoming an Oprah Book Club Pick. Maudlin, yet hopeful.
Poverty was making her insane, and it had only been four hours.
Shelby put her finger to her lip. "Shh, keep it down." Her head jerked toward Piper.