Read Online Designer Genes by Jacqueline Diamond - Free Book Online

few
that try,” the woman said. “But their stuff is so plug-ugly, who’d wear it? Too
frilly and flowery. Baggy, as well.”
    “They’d do
better if someone supervised the selection of patterns and fabrics.” Like   Buffy herself. “Your dress is rather nice,”
she added. “Did you make it?”
    “Who, me?”
scoffed the woman. “I bought this at Neiman Marcus, back in my la-la days.
Never mind about that. You hand over that little baby and set to work. She and
I’ll   start on her education. Has she
learned her ABCs yet?”
    “She’s barely
babbling.”
    “Never too
early.” Without waiting for a response, she snatched Allie from Buffy’s hip and
carried her toward the porch. “Move it, Rover,” she growled, and the dog
shifted a few inches out of the way.
    Buffy sighed.
There had to be a mop, a broom and some air freshener around. Perhaps too, if
she were lucky, a pair of those one-size-fits-all denim overalls.
    *
    In the middle
of the afternoon, Carter couldn’t find Buffy in the house. He went onto the
back porch and nearly tripped over Mazeppa, who had stretched out her legs from
the willow rocker. He had to grab the door frame for support.
    Instead of
apologizing, she said, “I reserve the right to relax on this here porch, since
you’ve exiled me to the backyard. I suppose you plan to complain about that,
too.”
    She was
holding the baby in the crook of her arm, he saw as he weighed his response.
Allie sure did have bright eyes. She reminded Carter of someone, but he
couldn’t think who.
    “You’re not
exiled to anywhere. You have reasonable use of the kitchen and the hall
bathroom,” he said. Thank goodness he’d installed a second, more private
bathroom several years ago. “Where’s Buffy?”
    The older
woman jerked her head in the direction of the yard. Turning, Carter spotted a
cloud of dust wafting upward through the open door of the tornado shelter.
    “I figured her
for a Miss Fancy Pants, but she’s a regular person,” said Mazeppa. “Pitched
right in to clean up for me. If you own any sense, Carter, you won’t hurry
about repairing that car. Encourage her to stick around.”
    “I don’t
recall writing to Miss Lonelyhearts for advice,” he grumbled, irritated that
she’d touched on his own inclination.
    Carter strode
across the yard until he could see down the concrete staircase into the
shelter’s front room. Buffy must have replaced the bulbs, because the place was
lit up. “I have to go out shopping,” he called. “Fix yourself dinner if I’m not
back in time.”
    “Oh, good,
there you are!” A cheerful face wreathed in a silk scarf appeared below. “You
know, Carter, the bed down here’s nearly shot. What would you say to buying a
tatami mat?”
    He wasn’t sure
what that was. “I don’t think they carry them at Popsworthy’s.”
    “You could
order on-line. They do ship to Nowhere, don’t they?”
    “Costs extra.”
He wasn’t keen on spending money for Mazeppa. On the other hand, a sore back
wouldn’t improve her bad temper.
    Whipping off
the scarf, Buffy hauled a mop up the stairs. “Where are you shopping, by the
way? Is there a regional mall?”
    He couldn’t
answer both those questions at once. Besides, the temptation to touch this
merry whirlwind was so powerful that Carter caught her by the waist and hoisted
her up the top two steps.
    The oversize
coveralls she must have found in a closet hung clownlike from her slender
frame. Far from being humorous, the effect reminded him of how easily she could
step out of it. And out of a few other things, while she was at it.
    She smiled at
him, inches away. A smudge of dirt on one cheek and her shiny nose failed to
distract him from the shapely pink lips and inquisitive gaze. What she needed,
he decided, was to be kissed decisively.
    But not with
an audience. And not by him.
    Carter set her
down. “I have to take supplies out to my father. He doesn’t drive anymore.”
    “Good plan.”
Buffy untied