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“Ty Merrick. I’m thirty-one. Now that we’re clear where we stand, why don’t we get down to business.” He picked up a pen. “What’s your mother’s name?”
“Cassidy Lonigan.”
“Address and phone.”
Hutch reluctantly supplied it. “But you’re not gonna call her, are you?”
“That’s up to Willie.” That slow smile appeared again. “I’m just following orders today, remember?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“What’s your mom’s age?”
“Old. That’s why we have to get this taken care of fast.”
Ty’s smile grew. “Don’t suppose she’s told you how old?”
“She’s gonna be twenty-nine tomorrow. That means she doesn’t have much time left. Jeez! She’s already got her first couple of wrinkles.” He gestured toward the corner of his eyes. “Before you know it, she’s gonna be a total prune.”
“Going downhill fast. Got it.”
“Don’t write that down!” Hutch considered a way around the problem. “Maybe if they go somewhere dark, her date won’t notice. Write down that she likes romantic settings. They’re dark, right? Movies and candlelight and stuff?”
Ty disappeared behind the form. “Good suggestion, kid. I’ll make a note of it.” His rumbling voice sounded oddly choked and the papers rustled. But a moment later, he lowered the form, looking as mountainlike as ever. “Next. Height and weight. Do you have a clue about those?”
“She’s not fat. Iguess she’s okay in that department. And she’s pretty tall for a girl. Bigger’n me,” he added beneath his breath.
Of course, Ty heard. “Give yourself a chance, kid. Male hormones tend to kick in later than women’s. And she’s got a whole passel of years on you.”
“I know. It’s straight genetics.” His chin inched out and he tried to tuck it back in. By Ty’s expression, his attempt hadn’t met with much success. “Either I got the height gene or I didn’t. Since tall is a dominant trait, chances are in my favor that I’ll shoot up one of these days.”
“Then there’s not much point in worrying about it, is there?” came the cool response. “Hair and eye color?”
“Brown and gray.”
“I assume it’s her hair that’s brown and her eyes that are gray?”
For the first time, Hutch felt the urge to laugh. It escaped as a tiny snort. “Yeah.”
“What a relief.” An answering grin flickered across Ty’sface.
“Wanna see a picture?”
“Sure.”
Hutch dug the photo from his pocket and handed it over, hiding a smirk at the mountain man’s reaction. Ty’s expression was sorta the way Hutch’s got over a big bowl of ice cream.Course, his mom was a lot better than ice cream. Even the kids at school thought so. If they had a contest for best-looking mom, he’d win handsdown.
Without a word, Ty returned the photo and picked up the application form again. “Occupation?”
Hutch frowned in thought. “I think she’s a waitress this week.”
“This week?”
“She takes what she can get, okay? She works really hard. It’s not like she has a husband or anything to help pay the bills.”
Ty held up his hands—long-fingered, hard-worn hands. Hands like his mom’s, only a lot bigger. It helped ease Hutch’s distress to see the evidence of a man branded by work. “Easy, buster. I’m just asking the questions on the application. I’m not judging. Got it?”
Hutch nodded, aware he’d revealed too much of himself to this man. He’d have to watch that. “What else do you need to know?”
