The Nine-Dollar Daddy Read online

  Cassidy stiffened within his hold. “Very.”

  “Relax,” he ordered beneath his breath. “The poor kid spent every dime he had for this. You don’t want to disappoint him, do you?”

  That got through to her. Her eyes widened and he caught a quick glimpse of worried Confederate gray before thick, dark lashes swept downward to conceal her expression. “Thank you, sweetpea. You couldn’t have picked a better present.”

  A flashbulb lit the room again. Then the photographer frowned at them. “How about giving her a kiss?” he suggested. “It would make fantastic copy.”

  Ty glanced down at Cassidy. Her pink lips were parted in dismay and he suppressed a sudden urge to sample them, to see if they were as sweet as they looked—to see if the honey in her voice flavored her mouth, as well. She went rigid within the circle of his arms. Kissing her probably wasn’t a good idea. In fact, if her expression was anything to go by, it was an incredibly bad idea. But for some reason, that tempted him all the more.

  “Oh, what the hell,” he muttered.

  Lowering his head, he captured her tiny gasp of distress. For the space of a heartbeat, his mouth connected with hers in a quick slide of soft, moist lips. He cupped her cheek, determined to taste more of her, to drink in the most delicious sensation he’d ever experienced. Before he could, she jerked free, a hand covering the lower half of her face, stealing from him the promise of paradise.

  A growl of annoyance reverberated deep in his chest and he reached for her, prepared to drag her back into his arms. If it hadn’t been for the angry defiance flaming to life in her eyes, he’d have done it. He took a deep breath, then another, gathering up his control. What the hell had just happened? He’d never lost it like that before. Never forced himself on a woman. Nor had he ever been so affected by a simple—

  Kiss.

  He sucked air. Damn. Was it possible? Was there something to that ridiculous legend of Willie’s? There was only one way to be certain. “We’ll definitely have to try that again,” he said for her ears alone.

  Her annoyance turned to rock-solid determination. “Not a chance.”

  “We seem to have a match,” Willie interrupted with undisguised satisfaction.

  “Except for that one percent,” Cassidy replied, her full attention focused on Ty. No doubt she’d decided to keep the enemy in sight and at arm’s length—all twenty-six inches this time. Smart move. “I’m a bit worried about that.”

  Ty smiled, outwardly relaxed while inwardly, hunting instincts as old as mankind stirred to life. Run, sweetheart. Run as fast as you can—while you still can. It wouldn’t stop him, not until they’d shared another kiss. Depending on the result, he’d either let her escape, if that’s what she preferred...or bind her tight. “That one percent won’t bother me,” he warned gently.

  “Oh, really?” Her answering smile bit like sugarcoated poison. “What a shame. It bothers the heck out of me.”

  As Cassidy headed for home on the bus with Hutch, she stared glumly through the dust-grimed window at the bustling San Antonio traffic. Today was sure one for her scrapbook. What in the world was she going to do? Her sweet, wonderful son had played a truly rotten trick. He’d bought her the one thing she wanted least in the world—a man. And he’d done it in a way that prevented her from refusing his little surprise without hurting him. Nor, apparently, could she return the impossible “gift” or trade him in for a different model. Not as long as the computer matched them at ninety-nine percent.

  Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so bad if Hutch had purchased someone different. Someone safe. Someone she could control. But instead, he’d gone to buy the equivalent of a harmless kitten and come back with a half-starved mountain lion.

  Cassidy frowned. Now that she thought about it, that was precisely what Ty reminded her of. The mix of tawny blond and brown strands of hair coupled with those odd green eyes and powerful musculature all added up to one thing. Good ol’ Leo the Lion. He even moved with the same sleek assurance, all controlled power and relentless strength. And that kiss!

  Her mouth tingled at the memory and she lifted a hand to her lips.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been kissed. Of course, whenever it’d been, she hadn’t panicked like a frightened schoolgirl. Come to think of it, she’d never been a frightened schoolgirl. Maybe if she had... Her gaze slid to Hutch. Don’t go there, she ordered herself. If she’d lived her life differently, she wouldn’t have her son. And she loved Hutch with all her heart and soul. Heck, she’d do anything for him.

  Cassidy shut her eyes, surrendering to the inevitable. Anything. Including dating a hungry mountain lion.

  Ty stood on the porch of Yellow Rose Matchmakers and stared blindly out at the quiet residential street. This wasn’t going to be easy. Not even a little. Assuring himself that what he’d shared with Cassidy Lonigan hadn’t been a fluke would be a snap compared to what would inevitably follow. It was the next part that would take every ounce of determination and patience he possessed. How did he convince a woman who didn’t believe in love that not only did it exist, but that it could be found in a first kiss?

  Willie joined him on the porch. “It’s happened, hasn’t it, boy?”

  “I’m not a boy,” he retorted mildly.

  “You’re avoiding the question. Is she the one? Was I right?”

  He noticed his grandmother hadn’t taken her usual place on the porch swing but stood in the shade, her posture as ramrod straight as always. Only the slight clenching of her arthritic fingers gave away her tension and confirmed his suspicions. “Did the computer really match us?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you knew ahead of time what the results would be.” Her silence was all the confirmation he needed and he sighed. “Did you fudge the data, old gal?”

  “No.”

  “Was I really a test case?”

  Again there was a long, pregnant pause. “Let’s just say Wanda suggested I undelete your profile,” she admitted reluctantly.

  Ty couldn’t help it. He laughed, the sound tinged with irony. “She always was better at matching people than that damned computer.”

  “Actually, she disagrees with it this time.”

  He turned and looked at his grandmother, arching his brow in question. “How’s that?”

  “She says the computer’s wrong. It’s not a ninety-nine percent match.” Willie smiled complacently. “It’s a full one hundred percent fer-sure fire perfect fit.”

  Progress Report

  The results aren’t quite what I expected. Seems I’m stuck with The Mountain for my experiment. Don’t know if that’s going to work out because Mom doesn’t like Ty. (He sure likes her, though!) But since I don’t have any other choice, I’m going ahead with my plan. I’ll see what happens after their first date. If it doesn’t go well, I’ll have to set Plan B into motion.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Final Countdown to First Experiment

  Ty called. He promised to stop by today. Something about Mom’s application form. I’m not happy about this part. I think he’s going to have her look it over and rerun it if it’s not right. But if they do that, I may be dealing with somebody different and... Well, to be honest, I sorta like Ty. I don’t think he’d be the type to leave Mom when the going gets tough. So, if I choose him to be my dad, I might have to find a way to manipulate the results if they rerun the form. Perhaps a quick phone call’s in order....

  Ty saw Cassidy the instant he stepped into the small café. She stood beside a table, a huge, overloaded tray in one hand, a folding stand in the other. With a practiced maneuver, she snapped the stand open and started to lower the tray onto it. Halfway there, she froze. Her head jerked upward and her gaze swept the room before landing on him. She’d sensed his presence, he realized with satisfaction. Good. Her awareness of him was as intense as his for her.

  As it turned out, it wasn’t good. Her eyes widened, sweet vulnerability betraying her before she could veil her reaction. The tr
ay wobbled ominously and he caught the subtle hitch of her breath as a load of plates slid to one side. Damn. He should have remembered she was a tad on the uncoordinated side and not surprised her—at least not at such a critical juncture.

  “Cassidy!” His voice cut through the hum of conversation. “Watch it, sweetheart!”

  With a gasp, she tried to right the tray, but it was too late. With almost poetic grace, first one plate, then another somersaulted off her tray. A greasy Tex-Mex burger, fries, a plastic glass brimming with tea and heaps of creamy coleslaw competed with each other to be the first to land on her customer. A particularly aggressive burger won, splatting dead center in his lap. The upper half of the bun spun through the air before lighting on the patty, perching there like a cocked hat.

  “Oh, good gravy!” Cassidy dropped the now empty tray onto the stand. She started to reach for the gently steaming burger, then hesitated, apparently thinking better of it. “I’m so sorry.”

  The customer stared in disbelief at his grease-soaked lap for a split second, than leaped to his feet with a yelp of pain. “It’s burning!” he shouted, slapping at the front of his trousers. Clumps of food tumbled to the floor, including the offending burger. He glared at her from beneath a cap of dripping coleslaw. “Didn’t you hear me? It’s burning. Do something!”

  Springing into action, Cassidy snatched a pitcher of ice water out of the hands of a nearby waitress and tossed the contents toward the circle of grease. Ice cubes ricocheted off the man from chin to knees.

  Ty winced. That had to hurt.

  “Is that better?” she asked. “Is it still burning?”

  “Better? Better!” With an enraged shriek, he erupted from his booth. Tripping over the tray stand, his loafers shot out from under him and he added himself to the debris of dishes and silverware littering the floor.

  Shouldn’t have worn loafers, Ty decided judiciously, tipping his Stetson to the back of his head. They were ridiculous footwear. Any sane individual would have known that. He folded his arms across his chest and waited to see what further entertainment Cassidy’s customer would offer. It wasn’t long in coming. The man flailed around on the floor some, making sure his backside was as thoroughly soaked with food and grease as his front side. He also struggled hard to talk. His jaw ground away like he’d bit down on a particularly tough piece of jerky.

  “Spit it out,” an old-timer encouraged cheerfully from a nearby table.

  The man flopped around some more, his face turning an interesting shade of purplish red. Finally, his voice kicked in, blasting out at full volume. “I’m going to kill you, you stupid...”

  Oops. Entertainment over. Ty didn’t wait to hear any more.

  While the man tossed dishes aside in an attempt to regain his footing, Ty loped over to Cassidy. Sweeping her safely behind him, he leaned down and hauled the man to his feet. “Easy does it, friend. It was an accident. The lady apologized, so I suggest you let it go.”

  “Get the hell out of my way, friend. My beef is with her, not you.”

  The customer kicked a plate out of his way, sending it smashing into a nearby chair. His petty act caused his heel to slip on a lemon wedge and sent him tumbling to the floor again. Ty shook his head. Dumb move. Real dumb—not to mention messy. Any puddles of food the fella had missed last time, he took the opportunity to visit on this occasion. Of course, the man’s nasal accent betrayed him as being from one of those states decidedly north of the Mason-Dixon line and well east of the Mississippi. Quite likely that explained his less-than-gentlemanly behavior. The poor Yank had grown up disadvantaged.

  “Your beef isn’t with the lady any longer,” Ty explained gently. “Now it’s with me.” Cassidy stirred against his back and he knew she was going to do something incredibly foolish—like interfere.

  Sure enough, she tugged on his shirt. “This isn’t your concern, Ty. I can handle it. I have experience with this sort of thing.”

  He stifled a groan. Of course she had. No doubt legions of customers had been on the receiving end of her special brand of service. If they’d been anywhere else, he’d have laughed at the absurdity. As it was, he didn’t dare take his gaze off the irate customer. “You’re not helping any, sweetheart. If you’d just let me—”

  She tugged at his shirt some more, putting a severe strain on the seams. An ominous popping sound came from the threads in the vicinity of his shoulders. “Please, Ty!” The soft way she continued to pronounce his name tied his guts in a knot, destroying his focus. “You’re going to lose me my job.”

  “I don’t think you need my help with that,” he advised after due consideration. “You seemed to be accomplishing that quite well on your own.”

  “How can you say such a thing?” She yanked at his poor, abused shirt again, snapping a few more vital threads.

  “Perhaps it has something to do with him.” Ty jerked his thumb toward her former customer who’d just managed to slip-slide to his feet.

  “Move aside,” the man unwisely ordered. “I have a small matter to discuss with that little bit—”

  Ty cut him off before he could finish spitting out the word. “Watch your mouth, son, or I might have to watch it for you,” he warned, crushing his Stetson more firmly on his head. It wouldn’t do for it to hit the floor should a scuffle ensue—not considering the tile’s current condition.

  “What did he call me?” Cassidy interjected, outraged. Her arm forgot it was twenty-six inches and clipped Ty’s left ear. She shook her finger in the general direction of her customer. “You watch your mouth, mister.”

  “I believe I just said that,” Ty thought to mention.

  Her arm shot past his ear again. This time, he was quick enough to duck. The finger got another thorough workout as she continued scolding. “There are ladies and children present, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  And every one of them was watching with openmouthed fascination.

  “So? I don’t give a sh—” Ty carefully gathered up the man’s collar, cutting off the flow of air to his lungs. Whatever the man had been about to say ended in a high-pitched squeak.

  “Now then,” Ty said, taking charge. Or at least trying to. “Let me explain a few things to you, friend. What happened was a real shame. And as much as it rankles for me to admit it, Cassidy does have a small organizational problem with her arms and legs.” He loosened his grip on the man’s collar a tad. The poor fella was looking a bit blue around the gills. “But if you try to hurt this woman or offend these customers with more unmannerly language, I’ll be forced to do something about it.”

  For the first time, the man seemed to notice the size of the obstacle between him and his goal. He sucked air into his lungs. “Like what?” he asked a trifle less belligerently.

  Ty removed one callused hand from the man’s collar and held it up for inspection. He’d always considered his hands absurdly large. Evidently, the customer thought so, too. Ty folded his fingers into a ham-size fist. “Does this answer your question?”

  “Ty?” Cassidy tried to peek around his shoulders. Fortunately, they were bulky enough to make that a near impossible feat. A few more shirt threads split. By the sudden loosening of his right sleeve, he suspected she’d eliminated at least one seam. “What are you doing? I can’t see.”

  “I’m just being neighborly.”

  Bewilderment edged her honeyed voice. “Neighborly?”

  It was hard to maintain an intimidating facade with a sleeve drooping around one wrist, swallowing the fist he might need to plant on her customer’s nose. But he persevered. “I’m explaining to our newfound friend that he was trespassing on private property. He’s agreed not to do it again.” He gave the customer a gentle shake to encourage his cooperation. “Right?”

  The man gawked at Ty’s exposed biceps and swallowed. “Yeah. Yeah, right.”

  “What private property?” Cassidy piped up. “Whatever are you talking about?”

  A few of the surrounding customers chuckled. One was ev
en stupid enough to clue her in by waving a clenched fist in the air. Damn.

  “You didn’t threaten him?” she demanded in outrage. His back received the punishing impact of an elbow, a thumping index finger and possibly her knee. It was hard to tell. Maybe he should have left this guy to her mercy after all. Probably would have served him right. “Ty, you have to leave. Now. Go wait in your car and I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

  Nothing like having his authority undercut. He felt all of five years old. “I can’t do that, Cassidy. The only thing between you and certain death is me,” he explained patiently.

  “I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

  Ty contemplated her customer’s hopeful expression. “I’m equally sure I’m not.”

  The owner chose that moment to approach from wherever he’d been hiding. “What’s going on here? What’s happened?” he questioned as though he hadn’t seen a blessed thing.

  The customer gestured toward Ty and Cassidy, a malicious light entering his now less-than-intimidated gaze. “Your waitress dumped her tray on me. She’s ruined my clothes. And she probably caused a severe burn to my... to my...”

  “Peter, Paul and Mary?” Ty offered helpfully.

  “Never mind where! I’m going to the doctor right away. You’ll have my bill in the morning. If she’s still here when I come again...” He started to point at Cassidy, ran up against Ty’s chest and thought better of it. “I’m going to sue!”

  “Totally unnecessary,” the owner said. “Cassidy? I’m sorry, dear. But you’re fired.”

  “Again? Gosh darn it, Freddie. How long this time?”

  Her boss slid a quick glance at his irate customer. “Permanently, I’m afraid. I won’t dock your wages for the cost of the dishes or this gentleman’s expenses, but it might be best if you left now.”

  Ty wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, sweetheart. You don’t need this sort of hassle.”