Second Chance Dad. Pamela Stone
Читать онлайн книгу.
can deduct the other two dollars for my half from my allowance this week.”
Her keen rationalization always suckered him into helping fund her plans. He tossed the game in the cart. “Fine, but don’t try to hit me up for the full ten dollars when you only get eight Friday.”
“Thanks, Dad.” She gave him a hug and headed toward the girls’ department. “I’m going to wipe you off the track when we get home.”
“In your dreams.” He should count himself lucky that she had only asked for one game this trip. “No games until all your homework is done. And you get me called up in front of Principal Montgomery one more time and the Wii goes in the closet until school’s out. It’s been years, but I distinctly remember graduating sixth grade. I’ve got no desire to go back.”
“It’s okay, you’re cool. You still like to play games. And you slowing down in your old age is what gives me the edge so I can win.”
Picking through the bins, she selected a plastic bag of assorted socks plus a new purple-striped sleep shirt and Vince herded her in the general direction of the checkout. His day had started at 5:00 a.m., and he still had to get home, unload the groceries, throw something together for dinner, make sure Kenzie did her homework and took her bath, and only then could he get time to work up the bid for the two docks on Lake Travis. He grinned. And now there was NASCAR to work into the schedule.
“Ashton! Hey!” Kenzie called out, making a ninety-degree turn into the boys’ department.
“Hey.” The kid Kenzie had defended at school today stood in the boys’ jeans section grinning at her. His mom didn’t look nearly as pleased.
“Can you make Mom understand that these faded jeans are way cooler than those dark-blue ones?” he asked.
Kenzie held the offensive jeans in front of her. “Geesh, these things are so stiff they can stand up even when you aren’t wearing them.”
Vince ventured a grin at the mom. She looked even more uptight here than she had at school. Chocolate-brown eyes and lashes, complexion like melted vanilla ice cream. He’d seen some bow-shaped mouths, but hers was classic. A pair of designer sunglasses perched on top of her dark curls. If he tugged one of those soft little ringlets, it’d probably spring right back into place.
She offered a half grin and took the jeans out of Kenzie’s hand. “These are nice. Tailored.”
“And Bully Baer will call me a nerd,” Ashton said.
“It’s not my fault if Billy Baer has no taste,” Ashton’s mother defended in a gravelly, Demi-Moorish voice. “I won’t have you going to school in sloppy, faded clothes.”
Vince leaned on his cart, staying out of the fight as he followed the woman’s quick perusal of his daughter’s faded jeans and pink ball cap. She dismissed Kenzie’s casual style, picked through a rack of three-button golf shirts and selected a banana-yellow-and-white-striped number.
This boy was going to get the crap beat out of him tomorrow.
With a mutinous scowl, Ashton slunk into the dressing room, the jeans and golf shirt grasped in a tight fist.
Undeterred by the mom’s ruling, Kenzie plowed through a shelf of faded jeans as if she could override her if she found just the right pair.
“Vince?” Hanna’s sultry pronunciation of his name sounded sexy as hell. She stared at him as if she’d rather be anywhere else than standing in the boys’ department at Wal-Mart. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve actually been introduced.”
“Pardon my manners.” He grinned and extended his right hand, hoping to at least get along, seeing as how their kids seemed to have hit it off. “Keegan. Vince Keegan. Nice to meet you.”
“Hanna Rosser.” There was a definite wariness as she brushed his hand with those long, delicate fingers.
He gave her right hand a gentle squeeze, avoiding the huge emerald solitaire. “Kenzie tells me you and Ashton just moved to town.”
“Last week. And it’s back to town. I grew up here.”
She didn’t sound too happy about that. “Right. And you and your mom are opening a bookstore in the old souvenir shop just off 281.”
“How come I’m not surprised you know that?” She pulled her hand away, then adjusted the shoulder strap on her neat little purse. Judging from those woven Cs on the fabric, he’d take bets it wasn’t the fifty-dollar-knockoff variety. Her left hand was bare, with a conspicuous pale circle around her ring finger.
“Small-town grapevine. Can’t beat it. When do you open for business?”
“Next week. Mom’s been overseeing the renovation the past couple of months while I handled the ordering and—” she appeared to have lost her train of thought “—wrapped up some things in Dallas.” Frowning at the video game in his cart, she didn’t even look up. “We’re including a large children’s section. Mackenzie might find some books she’d enjoy.”
Wow. He’d totally bombed as a father just because he allowed his daughter to play video games? What did Ms. Rosser have in her cart? He hooked his thumbs in his pockets and looked around, but there were no other carts in sight. How could anyone come to Wal-Mart and manage to leave without at least a dozen items? “Maybe I’ll bring her by.”
Ashton shuffled out, looking like a striped banana stuffed in dark jeans, his turned-down mouth showing he was almost as unhappy as he’d been earlier sitting in front of Principal Montgomery’s desk. “Mom.”
Kenzie handed him the faded pair she’d selected and a dull green T-shirt.
Clutching the ensemble, Ashton looked to his mother for approval. “No way, Ashton.”
“Might help him fit in,” Vince said, pitying the kid.
Hanna tugged at one of her short curls and the little wrinkle between her brows deepened. “I believe I know how to dress my own son.”
Maybe the woman could have the kid’s shirt monogrammed to match the beige initials on the collar of her starched white blouse.
Vince leaned in and whispered. “Faded jeans, fourteen ninety-nine. Green T-shirt, five bucks. Boy’s self-confidence, priceless.” Even the faint whiff of Hanna’s perfume smelled expensive.
Her big brown eyes scorched through him, then focused on her son’s face. She blew out a deep breath. “Try them on.”
Clutching the faded jeans like a trophy, Ashton raced back into the dressing room.
“So anything with a decent brand is still taboo in Marble Falls?”
“There are plenty of people around here who have a taste for expensive clothes, but they aren’t exactly the rage on sixth-grade playgrounds.”
Ashton bounded out of the dressing room almost as quickly as he’d entered, wearing the jeans, the T-shirt and a wide grin. “They’re cool.”
“They’ll be more comfortable once you get them broke in.” Kenzie tugged the green shirttail out of his waistband.
Judging by those ever-deepening frown lines between Hanna Rosser’s eyebrows, she wasn’t any more impressed with Ashton’s new fashion statement than she was with Vince and Kenzie’s intervention. “Do you know how hard your father works so you can wear nice clothes?”
Called that one right. Time to escape before he ticked her off even worse. Vince jerked his head toward the checkout. “We’d better get moving, Kenzie. Boo’s in the truck. Later, Ashton. Ms. Rosser.”
“Mr. Keegan.”
Kenzie dragged him back through the grocery section for fresh strawberries and by the time they finally worked their way to the checkout, Ms. Rosser stood at the next register, a small box of caramel chocolates on top of the faded jeans and shirt, and her nose buried in one of