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Ty’s amusement faded. “Please. Don’t stop there. You don’t think she’d agree if she knew what you were up to?” Great. Just what his grandmother needed. More trouble. He leaned across the desk, shoving a bud vase aside. The single yellow rose it contained trembled at the rough treatment. “Look, kid. If it’s not something she wants, why give it to her?”
The boy’s youthful chin jutted out again and Ty released his breath in a slow sigh. If the kid wasn’t careful, someone would take that jaw as a challenge and peg it with a fist. Not that Hutch would give up. He was a scrapper. Too bad he didn’t have the size to back his attitude. It would save him a few hard knocks.
“She may not want it,” Hutch announced, “but she’s gonna get it anyway.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.” The boy flushed at Ty’s dry tone. “Face facts, kid. If you aren’t able to answer the questions, Ican’t run her profile. So either you answer or she does. Which is it going to be?”
Hutch’s face screwed up in distaste. “Oh, man. This is not good. What other questions are there?”
Ty glanced at the form. “Strengths, weaknesses, general interests and hobbies. Personality type. Goals and ambitions. And then she’s supposed to describe herself.” The boy appeared nonplussed. Afirst, Ty was willing tobet.
“Well, shoot...” Hutch released a gusty breath, his bewilderment rapidly dissipating. “Okay. Does your phone have a hold or mute button?”
Ty checked. “Both.”
“And does it have a speaker button?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect. May I use it for a sec?”
Ty shoved the phone across the desk. “Be my guest.”
Picking up the receiver, Hutch rapidly punched in a series of numbers. “Hey, Mom? It’s me. You on your way to work?” He waited a moment, listening. “Oh, good. I’m putting you on speaker, okay?”
Hutch stabbed a button and a voice sweeter than a honey-coated Georgia peach filled the room. “...sweetpea, Idon’t mind.”
“You’re not supposed to call me that, remember?”
“Sorry, sweet—Hutch. So what’s up? Where are you?”
“I’m at a friend’s house and need some help. I’m working on a science project for school and—”
“A friend?” The excitement in her voice was painfully apparent, lacing the words with a warmer, heavier note of maternal concern. “Have I met him? Or is it a her?”
“Him. No, you haven’t met. About this project—”
“What’s his name?”
Hutch exhaled noisily. “His name is Ty Merrick. Mom. Pay attention. This is important.”
“I’m sorry, sweet—Hutch. How can I help?”
“We’re doing a personality survey for this science experiment and I need to ask you a bunch of questions.”
“Oh...” There was a momentary pause. “Will anyone realize it’s me?”
“It’s confidential,” Ty murmured to Hutch.
“Is that you, Ty? Gracious. You sound all grown up.”
Hutch started. “The kids in my class are a lot older than me, Mom. You know that. Ty’s...really big.”
“Oh, dear. Was I being rude? Sorry about that, Ty. Ihope I didn’t embarrass you.”
His name came across the phone line as warm and gentle as a sigh. The way she said “Tah” wrapped around him. It wasn’t a Texas accent. Perhaps he’d been more accurate about that Georgia peach than he realized. Suddenly, he had the urge to meet a leggy twenty-nine-year-old with brown hair just a shade shy of black and gray eyes that shone like silver. To see if up close and personal the eyes—with the tiny wrinkles in the corners that Hutch found so disturbing—were as intensely appealing as her voice.
Apparently, he’d waited too long to respond. Her breath caught and she said, “I did embarrass you. I’m so sorry, Ty. Ididn’t mean—”
