by Tina Leonard
“No. I really didn’t.”
“How long have you known?” Sugar’s eyes pierced him in the darkness.
“I never brought it up before the council until this week,” Jake admitted. “I didn’t know if you were going to be able to get your business off the ground. Once Maggie remembered her recipes and I saw that you had a winner, I took it to the council. They turned it down flat.”
“I would like the opportunity to present my business to the council myself,” Sugar said stiffly.
“It won’t do any good.” In fact, it would make everything worse. Vivian was already thinking about not renewing the Cassavechias’ lease. She so hated them that now that she had the ammo of a business being run without permits and health inspection requirements, she wouldn’t think anything of blowing the proverbial whistle on them. Vivian would help them pack their bags if it meant getting them out of PC. “They won’t change their minds.”
“I deserve the chance to defend my business.” Sugar’s tone was tense, unbending.
“I know,” Jake said, not mentioning that he’d had to take up the mayor’s mantle in order to pacify Vivian so she wouldn’t kick them out of the family home. “Please believe me when I say you don’t want to do anything to exasperate the council. If you lay low and run your business under the radar, like everyone else in PC, the whole thing will blow over.”
“Under the radar like you do?” Sugar glared at him. “Is your mother going to always run everything in your life? She doesn’t even know you own the Bait and Burgers.”
“I know. And I’m not telling anyone but you that I just bought out Pecan Fanny’s.” He sighed. “I have an acquisitive streak.”
“You sure do. You ass.” Sugar opened the truck door. “You made love to me and you knew your mother was going to vote me down and make certain everyone else did too. But in your acquisitive streak, you decided to acquire me first.”
She was mad, and he couldn’t blame her. “It really wasn’t like that,” he said, getting out to walk beside her as she stormed off toward the main road. “I really had forgotten about Hotter than Hell Nuts when we made love.”
“That’s funny,” Sugar said, “because I sure as hell never forget about my family’s livelihood.”
“I didn’t mean that.” Jake grabbed her arm, which she jerked away from him. “I meant I forgot about the billboard.”
“Although you managed to remember to fob your mayor duties off on my mother, knowing very well we hoped to get to advertise in the parade.”
“Sugar, listen to me,” he said, trying to turn her toward him.
She lashed out with a slap to his gut that reminded him she’d been through basic and was no lightweight who couldn’t defend herself. “Christ,” he said, “Sugar, I dig you. I really, really dig you. I’m no Prince Charming, but I’d do anything to make you happy, I swear to God I would.”
She kept walking. Jake stopped following her, massaging his midsection where she’d landed a fairly decent blow. Walking with her was just going to get him in more trouble, and he was already in it up to his neck. Jake sighed. He couldn’t blame her for being mad as hell. Everything she said was true. He’d made love to her, he’d gotten as far into her zone as fast as he could, before he had to confess that she was getting nothing that she wanted—needed—from PC.
Or from him.
He went back to his truck, starting it up. Turning his lights on low, he followed along behind Sugar, hoping she’d change her mind and get in and let him take her home. He wasn’t sure if the rule book existed concerning women who wouldn’t let you take them home even when they had every right to be pissed as hell, but it wasn’t safe for any woman—or man—to walk alone a fairly deserted road, so he followed fifteen feet back, lighting her way, keeping an eye on her.
She walked all the way to his family home. He waited until she unlocked and opened the front door. His heart zoomed when she turned around. Maybe she’d worked off her steam. Maggie and Lucy were out for the night; maybe she’d invite him in so they could talk it all out.
She flipped on the porch light and went inside, closing the door. A moment later, she let Paris out for her late-night constitutional while she watched over her dog, still ignoring Jake.
They went back inside, and lights switched on in the upstairs. His gaze went instantly to the Best Little Whorehouse in Texas room—and then the curtains opened.
He stared, hoping Sugar would give him a wave.
She slowly pulled off her top and bra, languidly smoothing her hands along her breasts to cup, peaking the nipples with her fingertips, arching her back so the moonlight caught every curve as she turned in profile.
He grew an instant tent pole in his jeans.
She shut the curtains with a snap.
“Damn,” Jake muttered. Now he had a major problem to keep him up all night—and that torture was exactly what Sugar had in mind.
It was going to be a hellishly long night.
Sugar closed the heavy drapes of the Best Little Whorehouse in Texas room, annoyed with Jake and even more annoyed with herself for caring. She’d known he could be Jake the Snake. He was a major snake-oil salesman. Why should she be shocked that he was so good in bed and had such an effect on her when he was such a smooth-talker?
Ramon had been the very same. And she’d fallen for it all over again.
The thing about Jake was, when he was sincere, he was the kind of man who melted your heart. He’d totally melted hers.
The rat.
And she was alone tonight, when she’d hoped to spend the night making love to Jake. Super-rat.
Putting up with Averie’s shenanigans was nothing compared to the realization he intended to do nothing to help her with the town council. What a bunch of old crows, Sugar thought. And Jake was a wienie for not standing up to his controlling mother.
She put her clothes back on, petted Paris and made sure she had fresh water. Then she wandered into Lucy’s room to grab up her laundry. She’d get Maggie’s too. It had been a long day for them—and since they both have love lives and I don’t, I might as well break out a good book and sit in the laundry room to read.
She flipped on the light in Lucy’s room and went to pick a few pieces of discarded clothes off the floor. This wasn’t like Lucy—Lucy was a control freak. She picked up a lacy cami and a pair of comfy shorts, her gaze bouncing to the bed to see if any clothes were hidden atop the comforter.
Her eyes went wide—and she screamed bloody murder, dropping the clothes basket to run down the stairs, Paris at her heels. She dialed Jake’s number with shaking fingers.
“Jake.”
“Sugar!” He sounded so happy to hear from her.
Sugar swallowed back panic. “Please come back.”
“Gladly. Can be there in five.”
“Bring Sheriff Goody. And hurry.”
“A threesome?” Jake said, his voice teasing and very Jake-like. “I don’t think the sheriff’s into those.”
“Jake,” Sugar said, shivering almost violently, feeling sick, “there’s someone in Lucy’s bed. A man.”
“Well, Bobby won’t bother us. Don’t worry about him.”
Sugar walked away from the house, then decided she wanted to be closer to the circle of light beaming from the porch. “Jake, hurry!”
“Coming up the drive. Have to say, I’ve never heard you this eager, but believe me, I’m happy. I was so afraid you’d never talk to me again. And I swear, Sugar, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Shut up, Jake.”
He did, and she closed her eyes. The next thing she knew, he was pulling up the drive. She ran to him, crushing his forearms with trembling fingers.
“I called the sheriff,” Jake said. “Are you all right?”
Sugar didn’t have to hold up any longer; she didn’t have to hide behind bravery. She crumbled against Jake’s chest. “There’s a man in my sister’s bed.”
“I know. It’s Bobby. Isn’t that all right? You’r
e not uptight about sex, Sugar. Everybody else in this town is, uptight is what we specialize in, but you—”
“It’s not Bobby.” She felt like she was probably squeezing the blood out of his arms, but she desperately needed his strength to keep from freaking out worse than she was.
“Who is it?”
“I’ve never seen him before. And I’m almost certain he’s dead.”
“Oh shit. That’s news I can use,” Jake said. He rubbed her back and hit some numbers on his cell phone. “Sheriff, listen, you might have an ambulance sent out to the old family place too. There may be someone who requires transport.”
He hung up. “Sugar, it’s going to be okay.”
She started shaking uncontrollably. “He was staring at the ceiling, Jake.”
Christ, Jake thought. He held Sugar tighter, wondering why this had to happen to her, why life in Pecan Creek was never normal. “It’s okay,” he said, running his hand down her soft auburn locks. “It’s going to be all right.”
She didn’t say anything for a long moment. Jake closed his eyes, feeling her trembling almost in his soul. “God, I’m sorry, Sugar. When I rented you this place, I didn’t know it was going to be a haunted house.”
“You warned me that there were ghosts,” Sugar reminded him.
“Yeah, but they’re ours. And I was just trying to sell you on the joint.”
“By scaring the hell out of me?”
Jake held her a bit tighter, hoping to help her feel more secure. “People love ghost stories.”
“I don’t.”
“I just wanted to keep you,” Jake admitted. “I loved your legs. I would have told you there was gold buried in the backyard if that would have helped, but I sensed you were only interested in pecans.”
“Yet you were looking at my legs?” Sugar asked with a slight sniffle against his chest.
He locked her in his arms, loving how her head wedged right underneath his chin. “And your ass, I confess. As I mentioned, I am no hero.”
“I know.”
Sheriff Goody’s truck sprayed gravel up the drive as he parked near the house. The sheriff hopped out. “What’s going on at the old homestead, Jake?”
“I haven’t checked it out in person, but you might want to step up to one of the guest rooms.” He spoke in code, trying not to upset Sugar. He’d just calmed her down, marginally. At least she wasn’t vibrating like a guitar string anymore.
“Ah. The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas room, or the Belle Watling room? No one ever slept in the American Gigolo room,” the sheriff said. “Whatever’s up there, I know it didn’t pick that room. Vivian’s decorating went off the rails with that room.”
Jake winced. “Head for the Belle Watling room. I’ll wait down here for the ambulance.”
“Should be right behind me. Evening, Miss Sugar.” Sheriff Goody bounded up the porch steps and into the house.
Sugar looked up at him. “Does everyone know about your mother’s decorating taste?”
“Hard to keep something like that quiet. Contractors tend to talk.” Jake sighed. “Besides which, she did a spread in a small national magazine looking for B&B customers, until she decided she’d rather rent the place. I think it was the cooking she hated.”
Only they hadn’t ever rented the house.
“Your mother doesn’t want me to lease the town billboard because I’ve got ‘hell’ in my business name, but it’s okay to have a virtual chicken ranch that everyone knows about?”
He pulled Sugar over to a chair in the garden, pushing her down. Paris settled at her feet in a furry circle of gold. Jake knelt down beside Sugar. “I can’t explain everything about Vivian. She’s a queen bee.”
Sugar sniffed. “Her real problem, Jake, is that she’s afraid I’m going to steal you away from her. I’m different, I’m an out-of-towner, and I just might drag you away from her queenship, Pecan Creek.”
Jake blinked. “You might have a point.”
“Well,” Sheriff Goody said, coming back outside, letting the screen door slam behind him, “that’s one dead body you got up there, Jake.”
“That sucks,” Jake said.
“Yep.” The sheriff pulled out his radio. “Rigor mortis has set in. Body’s been there a few hours.”
“Oh my God!” Sugar buried her face in her hands, and Jake sat next to her in the chair. She gasped, pulling her hands away from her face. “Sheriff, my sister didn’t kill anyone. I’d swear it on the biggest stack of Bibles Pecan Creek has.”
“Of course Lucy didn’t kill anyone,” Jake said, surprised but seeing the logical conclusion Sugar had reached. “She was out with us all evening, and she was with you and Maggie all day getting her cancer check-up in the big city.”
Sugar raised her head. “That’s right. We weren’t here for most of the day. We left early this morning. And Lucy didn’t spend the night here last night.”
“No one murdered him,” Sheriff Goody said. “He looks like he popped one, if I had to guess. We’ll see what the ME has to say.” He wandered off, making some more calls.
The ambulance pulled up, its red lights flashing in the dark. “Sugar, Lucy wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Jake said. “She literally doesn’t have a bit of mean in her.”
Sugar looked at him. “How do you know?”
He knew about the dishonorable discharge that involved an officer—and that could only mean Lucy’d probably turned down an asshole but didn’t kill him—and he knew Sugar had a bit of a temper on her due to the story the ex had inappropriately shared. He looked at the woman he loved. “Your sister’s still a child at heart. It’s why she and Bobby make such a great couple. He needs all that innocence in his life.”
“Lucy?” Sugar blinked at him, her eyes rimmed with tears.
“Well, yeah. Sugar, she’s still your little sister. She’s always going to be that. She’s happy being the baby. She acts tough. She even fooled me in the beginning. But trust me, Lucy is a candle of innocence in a dark world.”
“Oh my God,” Sugar said, her voice awed, “J.T. Jake Bentley, you may have just gotten crossed off my list of rat bastards. Maybe.”
“Leave me on a little while longer. If I’d known all I had to do was say nice things about your family to win you over, I’d have been under your window with a guitar, singing odes to Cassavechia women.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Sugar said. “You might be more of a hero than you realize.”
Not really. But as long as she thought so, Jake was willing to bask in the glow of hero worship—at least for a little while.
The ambulance took the dead man away about an hour later. Lucy and Bobby had arrived, and so had Maggie and Lassiter, and no one spoke in the darkness. They sat around on the porch glumly, not sure if they should be sad for the dead man, or worried about why a dead man had showed up in their house.
“It’s gross,” Lucy said. “Why’d he pick my bed?”
Bobby rubbed her shoulders. “Probably because it was just right,” he said, but the joke kind of fell flat. It didn’t seem to matter; her sister snuggled up on Bobby’s chest anyway, fairly repulsed by the turn of events.
“Why’d he pick our house?” Maggie wondered. “Paris, did you even bark at him?”
Paris waved her golden plume and smiled her enthusiastic, welcoming smile. If anything, Paris would have let the stranger in, if she’d had opposable thumbs with which to open a door, Sugar thought. “Paris isn’t a guard dog. She’s just a companion.” She hugged the golden retriever’s neck, burying her face in the fur for comfort.
“We’ll know what happened soon enough, I hope.” Jake settled on the porch next to Sugar. She put her knee next to his, enjoying the warmth.
Sheriff Goody joined them on the porch. “Well, I think I have a general preliminary idea of what brought our visitor to Pecan Creek.” He held up a piece of paper. “This was in his pocket. It’s a Google map of this house and some notes on the side that reference something on the Internet called Nuts, G
runts and a Mutt—A Hot Home Business Gets A Sexy Start.”
“Uh-oh,” Lucy said.
They all looked at her. “That’s my blog,” Lucy confessed.
“What?” Sugar stared at her sister. “Why do you have a blog?”
Lucy looked embarrassed. “You remember when we decided to do the whole diary thing?”
Sugar and Maggie looked at her.
“Diary, not blog,” Sugar said. “Go on.”
“Well,” Lucy said, “it was boring writing in a journal.”
Sugar looked at her sister. “A blog was better?”
“Well, I could sex up a blog, so to speak,” Lucy said. “It kind of grew faster than I thought it would. And then I thought what a great idea it would be to start sort of preselling your business, Sugar. We need a bigger platform, a national platform, if we’re going to sell anything. And goodness knows we weren’t ever going to get any support here in Pecan Creek.” She glared at Jake.
That was true. Lucy had thought of a great way to get traction for the business, before she’d ever known whether or not it would be successful.
Jake had done everything he could to shelter Pecan Creek from her business and her family.
“I’m so sorry, Sugar,” Lucy said, and Sugar said, “Why? Except for the dead body, you’ve given the business a great advertising vehicle.”
Jake stood. “Bobby and I are going upstairs for a minute. We don’t want anybody in the house until we say so.”
“Why?” Sugar looked up at Jake, curious. He looked dark and determined, not his usual devil-may-care self.
“We’re going to do a run-through of the house. Stay down here.”
Jake’s tone implied he was in full landowner mode, and to be honest, Sugar appreciated it. She had a full-blown case of the creeps. She watched as he and Bobby went inside.
“Think I’ll join the boys,” Lassiter said, rising.
Sugar looked at her mother. Maggie’s red hair flew in mussed red puffs from her plucking at it. She’d had a long, stressful day, and this was no celebration to her good news. “Lassiter, would you mind taking Maggie to your house?” Sugar asked. “There’s no reason for her to be here.”
