Amanda flipped her hair over her shoulder and stuck a hand on her naked hip. Her clothes always looked like she'd shrunk them in the dryer on high heat. Her skimpy skirt only covered enough to keep her PG-13, and her top was like a blue rubberband stretched across her firm br**sts.
"I'm an expert at all shopping. Any kind. Day, night, clothes, furniture, art, anything with any sort of fabric that might go on your body or in your house belongs to me. I don't know about tractors, or crops, or why farmers always seem to have a plug of tobacco stuck in their cheek, but I know shopping."
She almost sounded insulted, and it suddenly amused him. So Amanda knew Chicago shopping. He'd bet the farm she'd never set foot in a Wally's World. "Ever been to Wal-Mart?"
"Nooo," she said carefully, a white-tipped fingernail running over her bottom lip, licking at the control he kept over his libido. "But I know what it is and you can buy clothes there. So we're all set. One complete wardrobe for a cute eight-year-old girl coming up. Break out your credit card—this will be fun."
Danny didn't move, hoping someone would save him. He darted a pleading glance at Shelby, but she just shrugged.
Amanda sailed out of the parlor on her skyscraper shoes. "Come on, Tucker. These things take time, and you're burning daylight. Bring my handbag, please. Piper has the dog."
Shelby grinned. Boston smirked. Danny felt complete and utter terror. Amanda Delmar in a discount store wasn't going to be pretty.
But like an idiot, and left with no choice if he didn't want to be completely rude, he picked up her gigantic straw purse. He gripped the pink leather handle while Shelby busted out with a laugh.
"If only I knew where the camera was. Dang, that's too funny seeing you carry that."
He knew his damn face was red, he could feel it. "Boston, control your wife before I smack her with this ugly straw basket from…" Danny caught himself before he swore in front of Piper. Couldn't be just blurting things out anymore. He had a daughter to raise proper.
One who'd seen God only knew what. Worried he might have scared her with his teasing Shelby, he glanced at Piper. She was still holding the dog, but she had leaned around the side of the coffee table, peering behind the lamp with the colored glass shade. It didn't seem like she'd heard their conversation, all her concentration focused toward the back wall by the fireplace.
"What's the matter, Piper? You see something?"
Her head jerked back and forth, but her eyes stayed trained on the corner.
"You sure?" He didn't see anything, but she was staring so intently, he walked in that direction.
One of her soft, cool hands gripped his arm, halting his progress. "No."
Danny looked down at her. The grimy baseball hat prevented a clear view of her face, but she shivered slightly, her one hand grip on the poodle tightening. "You can tell me if something's wrong, you know."
Not that he knew how to fix it. Or how to read Piper's expressions and emotions. They were total strangers to each other, with eight' years to make up for. But he already felt protective of her. He felt love, brand new and fledgling, like a spark on kindling.
She just nodded and turned toward the door, her willowy shoulders straightening. "Are we bringing the dog?"
He didn't want to, but he didn't think Amanda would give him much choice. "Yeah. Let's go before Amanda starts shopping without us. You'll end up with nothing but high heels."
Guiding Piper with a hand on her back, he headed for the door. "Thanks, Shel. Boston. I'll talk to you soon."
"We'll help any way we can, Danny."
That the words came from Boston meant a hell of a lot to Danny. "Thanks."
"Nice meeting you, Piper," Shelby said.
That brought his daughter up short. She looked up at him, her eyes worried. Danny sensed her confusion, that she didn't know what to say. "Nice to meet you, too," he whispered to her, giving her a wink.
The words came out on a painful whisper, but she said them, her little chin coming up with gutsy determination.
Danny gripped her shoulder and felt the damnedest thing. Pride.
Then the yipping dog wiggled, upsetting Piper's hold. He caught Baby in a quick save before there was a poodle pancake on Shelby's floor.
Baby scratched his wrist with her tiny claws, searching for a hold. He grimaced as his broken flesh stung a little.
Piper sighed in relief.
And Danny realized he was carrying both Amanda Delmar's overpriced purse and her damn dog like an errand boy.
Danny winced as they went through the automatic doors at Wal-Mart. Two feet in the store and Amanda was already attracting attention.
"Hello, welcome to Wal-Mart."
Amanda lifted up her pink sunglasses to gape at the old guy in the requisite blue vest. "Ohmigod, it's just like the commercial. If a smiling yellow dot bounces toward me, I'm going to freak out."
Good thing she'd kept her voice down. It wasn't like twenty people had just turned and stared at her, slack-jawed. Danny pulled off his hat, scratched his head, and tried not to turn tail and run. He plunked his hat back down and grabbed a shopping cart, determined to get this over with. "Freak out after we're done."
"Miss." A store manager, tugging on the collar of his button-up shirt, cleared his throat. "You can't bring your dog in here."
Geez, almighty, she'd brought the poodle, even after he'd told her to leave it in the car. Baby's tiny tongue hung out over the strap on Amanda's purse as she panted enthusiastically. Danny wasn't sure which irritated him more, Amanda's disobedience, or the way Piper edged herself closer to Amanda's leg.
Her long and lean, bronze and beautiful leg.
This was a huge mistake.
"Oh, it's okay. Baby is a working dog." And Amanda strode forward, stopping only briefly to touch a striped women's shirt on display. Her lip curled in disdain.
Danny pushed the cart behind her, amazed at her nerve. "A working dog?" he asked, when she paused to read the department signs hanging from the ceiling. "What could that dog do? Guide blind mice?"
Piper laughed, a quick giggle before she clapped her hand over her mouth.
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.