didn't want to screw this up and break her. Piper already had chips and cracks all over; he didn't want to be the one to shatter her.
It was a hell of a responsibility.
Amanda was fishing her keys out of her big purse, the plastic Wal-Mart bag with the Barbie in it hung over the opposite wrist. She had set Baby down on the porch, and the dog raced past the wicker chair, squatted, and did her business.
"Why is the dog wearing a shirt?" Every time he looked at that poodle, something seemed off to him. Now he realized it was because the dog was wearing a tiny peach-colored T-shirt. "It's summer."
"It's not for warmth. It's a logo T-shirt." She smiled. "It says NO ONE PUTS BABY IN A CORNER."
All those letters had fit across that itty bitty chest? "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Ah! You don't remember that from Dirty Dancing?" She looked astonished. "That's like a classic line."
"I never saw it." He vaguely had the notion it involved gay men, but he could be wrong about that.
"Some day I'll rent it, and we can watch it together. But right now I don't have three bucks for a video, which is a shame, because it's a perfect cheese-ball movie."
"Is your dad really going to stick to his no-money policy?" The whole idea of just cutting off his kid without a dime bothered Danny, but then he figured there was a whole lot to Amanda's relationship with her father he didn't know about.
"I guess. He's never done this before, but he sounded determined. And he is a businessman, first and foremost. I think he's decided I'm a bad investment. Not enough return on his capital."
Amanda's back was to him as she opened her front door, but Danny could hear the tinge of bitterness in her voice.
"If you need anything, Amanda, you can call on me. I'll help you out any way I can."
Her flaxen hair shone in the moonlight. Her porch light was blown, but the night was light enough that he could see the smile that played around her lips as she stared at him over her bare shoulder.
"You know, Danny Tucker, you really are a nice guy," she whispered. "Not many people would feel sorry for the poor rich girl."
Piper was still clutching him, leaning into his hip, so he couldn't say what he really wanted to. Which was that the last thing in the world he felt was pity. That he felt a deep, gut wrenching, ball-busting attraction to her that had him antsy during the day and downright agonized at night.
So he just shook his head. "What I'm feeling for you isn't pity."
Her mouth slid open, her tongue moistening that plump bottom lip. "Go home, Danny, before I say something that embarrasses me tomorrow."
He knew that there could never be anything between them. Certainly not a relationship. Definitely not an affair. He wasn't looking for immediate gratification—he wanted the long haul. So he couldn't even indulge in a kiss. Because one kiss would lead him to want that gratification, and they just couldn't go there.
So he just brushed his knuckles across her arm. "Friends don't need to be embarrassed around each other, ever."
Amanda studied him for a second, than smiled. "Maybe not in your world." She clapped her hand to her thigh. "Baby, come here, sweetie."
The dog came scurrying over, a blur of white fur. Amanda picked her up and pushed open the front door.
"Good night, Danny. Good night, Piper."
"Good night." When the door shut, Danny looked down at Piper. Unable to resist, he lifted her up into his arms until she was face-to-face with him. She looked startled but rested comfortably against him.
"Come on, baby girl. Let's go home."
Amanda put Baby down on the wood floor in the foyer and tossed her handbag on the fussy little Victorian table standing next to the stairs. The table even had a little lace doily on it, and it wasn't Amanda's style at all. But she liked this house, despite feeling like she had to duck to get through the doorframes. The
It was a hell of a responsibility.
Amanda was fishing her keys out of her big purse, the plastic Wal-Mart bag with the Barbie in it hung over the opposite wrist. She had set Baby down on the porch, and the dog raced past the wicker chair, squatted, and did her business.
"Why is the dog wearing a shirt?" Every time he looked at that poodle, something seemed off to him. Now he realized it was because the dog was wearing a tiny peach-colored T-shirt. "It's summer."
"It's not for warmth. It's a logo T-shirt." She smiled. "It says NO ONE PUTS BABY IN A CORNER."
All those letters had fit across that itty bitty chest? "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Ah! You don't remember that from Dirty Dancing?" She looked astonished. "That's like a classic line."
"I never saw it." He vaguely had the notion it involved gay men, but he could be wrong about that.
"Some day I'll rent it, and we can watch it together. But right now I don't have three bucks for a video, which is a shame, because it's a perfect cheese-ball movie."
"Is your dad really going to stick to his no-money policy?" The whole idea of just cutting off his kid without a dime bothered Danny, but then he figured there was a whole lot to Amanda's relationship with her father he didn't know about.
"I guess. He's never done this before, but he sounded determined. And he is a businessman, first and foremost. I think he's decided I'm a bad investment. Not enough return on his capital."
Amanda's back was to him as she opened her front door, but Danny could hear the tinge of bitterness in her voice.
"If you need anything, Amanda, you can call on me. I'll help you out any way I can."
Her flaxen hair shone in the moonlight. Her porch light was blown, but the night was light enough that he could see the smile that played around her lips as she stared at him over her bare shoulder.
"You know, Danny Tucker, you really are a nice guy," she whispered. "Not many people would feel sorry for the poor rich girl."
Piper was still clutching him, leaning into his hip, so he couldn't say what he really wanted to. Which was that the last thing in the world he felt was pity. That he felt a deep, gut wrenching, ball-busting attraction to her that had him antsy during the day and downright agonized at night.
So he just shook his head. "What I'm feeling for you isn't pity."
Her mouth slid open, her tongue moistening that plump bottom lip. "Go home, Danny, before I say something that embarrasses me tomorrow."
He knew that there could never be anything between them. Certainly not a relationship. Definitely not an affair. He wasn't looking for immediate gratification—he wanted the long haul. So he couldn't even indulge in a kiss. Because one kiss would lead him to want that gratification, and they just couldn't go there.
So he just brushed his knuckles across her arm. "Friends don't need to be embarrassed around each other, ever."
Amanda studied him for a second, than smiled. "Maybe not in your world." She clapped her hand to her thigh. "Baby, come here, sweetie."
The dog came scurrying over, a blur of white fur. Amanda picked her up and pushed open the front door.
"Good night, Danny. Good night, Piper."
"Good night." When the door shut, Danny looked down at Piper. Unable to resist, he lifted her up into his arms until she was face-to-face with him. She looked startled but rested comfortably against him.
"Come on, baby girl. Let's go home."
Amanda put Baby down on the wood floor in the foyer and tossed her handbag on the fussy little Victorian table standing next to the stairs. The table even had a little lace doily on it, and it wasn't Amanda's style at all. But she liked this house, despite feeling like she had to duck to get through the doorframes. The
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