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“You didn’t embarrass me.” It took an instant for the soft reassurance to reach her—soft, so she wouldn’t realize he was a man, not a child. “I was trying to figure out where your accent was from.”
“Oh.” Sunshine filled her voice, breaking through the clouds of uncertainty. “I’m from the good ol’ goober state of Georgia.”
“Goober?” he questioned, intrigued.
She chuckled, and a picture of her generous smile filled his mind. Dam that photo! One look and he’d been a goner. “That’swhat they call peanuts back there. We might be the Empire State, but we’re really a bunch of goobers.”
Hutch stirred. “Mom. Can we ask you questions? Do you mind?”
“Not at all. Fire away, sugar.”
“Okay. I’m gonna put you on hold for a sec so me and Ty can pick the questions.”
She laughed. “You don’t want to discuss them in front of me?”
“Can’t. It might corrupt the results.”
Her laughter blossomed, as rich and smooth as her voice. Ty clenched his jaw against the sound, not quite believing the effect it was having on him. “We can’t allow that, now can we? Go ahead and talk. I’ll wait.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Hutch stabbed the hold button and frowned at Ty. “You almost gave it away.”
“I don’t like deceiving people. Next time don’t rope me in to your lie. Iwon’t tolerate it. Are we clear about that?”
Abashed, Hutch nodded. “Yes, sir. Sorry.”
Ty gave him a stern look. “Okay. Let’s get this done.” He tossed a list of character traits across the desk toward the boy. “I need some idea of what she considers her personality type. Read your mom the list and have her choose the ones that best describe her.”
Hutch frowned at the sheet. “I could probably figure these out.”
“It’s better if she did it.”
Apparently, Hutch agreed because he leaned forward and punched the hold button. “You there, Mom?”
“Right here.”
“Okay. I’m going to read off a list of personality traits and you pick the ones that fit you best. Got it?”
“I think I can handle that.” By the subtle amusement coloring her words, Ty suspected she was well accustomed to Hutch’s high-handedness. As soon as her son finished rattling off the list, she said, “You can definitely mark me down as sentimental and affectionate. Itend to be huggy,” she confessed, probably for his sake, Ty realized.
“Real huggy,” Hutch inserted.
“I also consider myself extroverted. Ilike jobs that bring me in contact with people. And I’m pretty self-assured. I’m going to do what I think best, regardless of anyone else’s opinion.” She hesitated. “What else hits home? Iguess you could call me adventurous, since we move around so much. But romantic is definitely out.”
“Aw, come on, Mom. What about all those smelly bubble baths and candles? Those are romantic.”
“Those, my poor misguided son, are feminine, not romantic. Ican enjoy ‘girl stuff,’ as you like to call it, without having it involve a man or romance. It’s for my own pleasure, not to entice a husband.”
Ty shot Hutch a disgruntled look. Obviously the woman had been badly burned by her ex. Chances were excellent she wasn’t the least interested in the services the Yellow Rose had to offer. Just his luck. And just Willie’s luck, too. What the hell were they going to tell the reporters if Cassidy refused to cooperate?“Remind me to wring your neck when we’re done here,” he told the boy in an undertone.
A hint of red crept into Hutch’s cheeks, but other than that one telling sign, he acted as though he hadn’t heard. “Go on, Mom. Any others?”
“Let’s see.... I’m tolerant, practical—”
“No way.”
“Sure I am, Hutch.” Utter bewilderment laced her voice. “Why would you think I’m not practical?”
Hutch snorted. “If you were practical, you wouldn’t keep givin’ stuff away. You wouldn’t let our landlady help herself to clippings off your rosebushes any time the mood took her. And you woulda sued Lonnie when he stole all our money and ran off with April Mae in your new pickup. She’s not practical,” Hutch repeated to Ty. Otherwise he wouldn’t be sitting here finding her a date, his tone added.
