Hotter than Texas (Pecan Creek) (7 page)

He shook his head. “I have the last word on this one. And I want Maggie to be the mayor. She’s just what we’re looking for. Trust me on this.”

Sugar wanted to trust him. Past experience had taught her that trusting dark-haired, bedroom-eyed, god-bodied hunks was treacherous, a path for the giddy who’d never been burned. She’d been burned, it had hurt like shit, and she was only six months past a shitty divorce. “I don’t feel like trusting you. Sorry.”

He nodded, but the
no one can resist J.T. Bentley
cockiness she’d noted before was missing. He seemed sincere. “I understand, Sugar. I know trust has to be earned. I know trust isn’t something that’s talked about; it’s hard won.”

She shrugged. “It’s really Maggie’s call. But if you let those biddies hurt my mother again, I’ll come after you with a baseball bat, Jake. And my aim is pretty damn good.”

“I believe it.” He grinned. “Give my love to Maggie.”

She narrowed her gaze.

“I’m serious.” He put his hat on his head. “She’s just what we need here in Pecan Creek.”

“Better ask your mother if she agrees,” Sugar said, not caring how snarky she sounded. The wound was too fresh for instant forgiveness.

“I don’t think it’s going to be a problem.” Jake went whistling across the lawn to his truck. He had a great backside, a great frontside, a deep bedroom voice, and Sugar wished she wasn’t so attracted to wolves. Bad boys. The badder the better.

She was pretty certain J.T. Bentley rated up there with badder. “Thankfully, I recognize my worst nightmare this time,” she said and went to ask her family if they wanted to get dressed and head into town for burgers and maybe a shake. A nervous tickle haunted her stomach—it had started when Jake Bentley showed up on her porch—but a good hot burger and some fries would chase the uneasy feeling off.

For a worst nightmare, though, he sure was packing a great butt.

Chapter Five

The Bait and Burgers restaurant was no different than any other small-town greasy spoon, except that it was packed. Sugar guided her mother and sister inside and found some black-topped stools to perch on underneath a blaring television showing a baseball game in full swing.

“Wow, check out all the blue-hairs,” Lucy said. “One thing about Pecan Creek, it prides itself on being cutting edge.”

“I like it.” Maggie gazed up at the chalkboard menu on which chalk letters pronounced the available items. “Hey, there’s J.T.!” She waved enthusiastically at him, and he strolled over wearing his typical sexy smile.

Sugar’s body heat rose exponentially—and uncomfortably in the obscene Texas heat.

“Ladies. What a pleasure to see you.”

He was so smooth Sugar had an image of cool, dark satin sheets. She blinked the thought away, and moved her gaze from his broad chest and well-worn jeans. He hugged Maggie, who gave him a delighted smile.

“Hi, Jake.” Sugar glanced around. “Is this Pecan Creek’s hot spot?”

He nodded. “One of them.”

“Really.” Lucy looked around. “Are there any people in Pecan Creek who haven’t left their fiftieth birthday in the rearview mirror long ago?”

Jake laughed. “I’ll have to introduce you to my friends.”

Lucy sniffed. “You must mean Kel, Evert and Big Bobby. I met Curly, Larry and Moe, thanks. They came by to ask me if I wanted to watch them play shirts and skins. I told them I’d rather be dead, and we left it at that.”

Sugar looked at Jake. “My sister values the direct approach.”

Jake laughed. “So do the Three Stooges.” He winked at the ladies as a cute college-age waitress came over to take their orders. The tiny-waisted girl bounced with good cheer, in impossibly tight cut-off shorts and a tank top that read
PC’s Best Burgers—Really!

Maggie glanced up at the menu. “I can’t decide. It all looks so good!”

“Well,” Lucy said, “you can have a hamburger, or a hamburger, or a hamburger.”

Sugar looked at her sister. “Lucy, don’t exaggerate. There are french fries too, and onion rings.”

“That’s right,” Jake said easily. “Truthfully, the burgers are what make this place.”

They all put in their orders for burgers and sodas, and then Lucy knocked her water glass over on Jake. He jumped, Lucy said, “Oh, I’m so sorry,” in a tone that Sugar knew was less than contrite, and Maggie handed him her napkin.

“Lucy,” Sugar said, taking the napkin and wiping water off Jake’s arm and the front of his denim shirt. Holy Christmas, he had a hard body. Hard as a rock. She rubbed a little harder than necessary on the soaked fabric, feeling tight muscles and a surge of desire that stunned her.

“It’s all right,” Jake said, taking the napkin from her. “In this heat, I’ll dry in less than five minutes.”

Lucy blew a big pink gum bubble, then collapsed it with a sucking sound. “I’m not usually so clumsy.”

“Lucy, it’s okay. It’s so okay that I’m going to tell Kel to comp your meals tonight.”

“Do you manage the restaurant?” Sugar asked.

“Not exactly,” Jake said. “I wouldn’t be caught managing much of anything.”

“That’s why you’re trying to stick our mother with the mayor gig, because you don’t want it,” Lucy said benignly.

“True,” Jake said easily. “Excuse me, ladies.” He gave Maggie a last fond hug, Lucy a level look and Sugar a devil-may-care grin. “Do you have a minute? I’d like to discuss something with you in private. Nothing I couldn’t say in front of you ladies, but I don’t want anybody overhearing.” He gestured to the people packed around them, laughing and chatting as they ate burgers and drank tall, frosty sodas.

“Sure.” Sugar slid off the stool.

“We’ll be right back,” Jake said, tipping his hat to Maggie and Lucy.

Lucy rolled her eyes, and Maggie waved them off. Jake took Sugar over to an open window area. Light country western music played, though not loud enough to drown out the conversational babble.

“So what’s up?” Sugar asked.

“First, about the other night.” Jake looked apologetic. “I didn’t think my mother and her friends would be so—”

“Stuck-up? Witchy?” Sugar leveled a stare at him that could have wilted lettuce before it ever hit a hamburger. “I think my sister is right. I think you did set Maggie up just because you don’t want to be the mayor. What is it you do exactly, besides rent houses that are nothing like their advertised descriptions to unsuspecting out-of-towners?”

He shook his head. “I’ll show you my deep, dark secret. Come on.”

Sugar followed him around to the back, and then down some wooden stairs that went deep underneath the rocking burger joint. “Wow, a dungeon.”

“Now you sound like Lucy.” Jake laughed. “Your sister does not like me at all.”

“Lucy warms up slowly.” Sugar felt compelled to defend her sister. “She’s protective of Mom.”

“And you. Obviously you.” He turned to face her in front of a pool table covered with red felt. “She practically snaps like an electrical fence hit by water whenever I get near you.”

“Cassavechias look out for each other. Anyway, your mom isn’t exactly a study in Southern hospitality.” She looked at the pool table. “Isn’t Brunswick a bit fancy to hide away in a dungeon?”

“Keep my secret. Even my mother doesn’t know this baby’s here.” He handed her a cue. “Do you play?”

“A little.” Sugar studied the room. “Why are we down here?”

“I told you,” Jake said, “I’m sharing my deepest, darkest secret with you.” He sighted down the length of the cue, nodding with satisfaction. “I own Bait and Burgers. This is my private office. None of this info is known by anyone except my partners who cover for me, so if you share, I’ll have to enact landlord penance on you.”

“Terrifying, I’m sure, considering you’d probably never find another sucker to rent the lusty family domicile.” Sugar looked at him. “So this is your Bat Cave. Interesting.”

“You mean man cave.”

She shook her head and walked over to break. “My guess is you hide down here from the bats that inhabit Pecan Creek.”

He laughed. “Just keep my secret.”

“So you wanted me to know this so I won’t be mad at you for trying to dump your mayor’s job on Mom?”

“Yeah.” He leaned against the black vinyl bar and grinned, too sexy for words. “I’m a very busy man. This is your chance to have leverage with me.”

“Got it.” She broke the rack, and balls flew in every direction.

“Not bad.” He got up to study the table.

“Not so fast. Let me see if I can figure the subtext out.” She looked at him before leaning over the table to line up her shot. “The little red ball is going to go first, by the way.”

She made that shot, and went on. “So what you’re trying to tell me is that you’re not an absolute ass for shifting your responsibilities. You own a restaurant, and you rent the family home, and you don’t want your mother breathing down your neck all the time.”

He grinned. “Not bad.”

“Purple-striped ball is history.” She made that shot and moved to the opposite side of the table, near Jake. “Excuse me.”

He raised a dark brow. “Sugar, I think Maggie can handle my mother any day of the week. What are you protecting her from?”

Sugar leaned over. “Rats.”

He turned her toward him. “I honestly am not a rat. I’m not using Maggie.”

“Do not try to mess up my rhythm.” She pulled herself away from Jake with an effort. “Green.”

He waited until she made the shot, then he took her cue from her, setting it down on the table. “I get it. You’re nobody’s fool. You don’t want to be taken advantage of.” He kissed her, his lips warm on hers, but not demanding. Something hot and welcoming surged into Sugar, something she hadn’t felt in a long time, didn’t know if she wanted to feel now. She pulled away, resisting the urge to press her fingertips to her lips to feel the echo of his kiss.

“I’ll keep your secret, Jake.” Sugar looked in his dark eyes, thinking that he was handsome and hot—and oh, so
not
what she needed in her life. “You don’t have to seduce me to get what you want.”

“I wasn’t seducing you.”

She let his statement hang in the air.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d seduce you in a minute if I thought I could.” He looked at her for a long moment. “The truth is, I’m pretty sure you’re so far out of my league, Sugar, that all I’m hoping for is a good relationship.”

She slowly shook her head. “Let’s just stick with the tenant/landlord thing. It works for me.”

She went back up the stairs, not allowing herself to glance back at Jake, even though she was dying to. She went to the table where her mother and sister sat chatting and fanning themselves.

Lucy looked at her closely. “What did Jake want that was so earth-shattering he had to drag you away from us?”

Sugar sipped her soda, glad for the coolness. She needed to cool down in the worst way. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jake head over to the grill to talk to one of the cooks. He disappeared a moment later, jaunty and self-assured, a confident man who’d probably never had a woman resist him.

She barely had.

“Nothing,” Sugar said. “Nothing at all.”

“He said it was important.” Lucy eyed her. “He didn’t want anyone to overhear.”

She looked over the patio rail, seeing him walking through the gravel parking lot to his truck. “He just wanted to make certain we weren’t still upset with him about the other night.”

“I’m not,” Maggie said. “I never was. This is not my first rodeo around catty women. Women, I get. Men perplex me a bit more, but I like them. Some of them.” She drank her soda with blissful joy.

Lucy eyed her sister. “I don’t think his intentions are entirely pure where you’re concerned.”

Maggie looked up at the moon blooming round and white over the outdoor patio. “Are any man’s intentions pure?”

Sugar thought about Jake’s kiss. There’d been heat and restrained passion in his kiss. Her divorce wasn’t far enough in the past for her to want hot kisses right now.

But if his intentions hadn’t been exactly pure, she had to admit she’d liked them that way.

Boredom, thy name is Pecan Creek.
Lucy’d had enough of the Three Stooges ogling her. She excused herself from the table, leaving Maggie and Sugar discussing the fine points of the pecan recipes they’d tried today. The two of them could chat about spice this and ingredient that until Lucy wanted to keel over in a stupor.

She wasn’t going to survive here if she didn’t get some action going. Being the unlucky cheerleader for Larry, Curly and Moe’s football fantasy was not it.

Azalea Avenue wasn’t far from The Grease Pit, as she’d dubbed the burger joint. She strolled to Azalea, pulled the broomstick woman’s address from her phone’s address book, then stopped in front of 12 Azalea Avenue.

Small white house, freshly painted, roof in good shape. Front yard tidy, with pink crepe myrtles blooming despite the heat. Heavy draping of a live oak canopy protected the house from the blazing sun of the Texas afternoons. Calm and traditional, this was obviously not the action hot spot she was seeking. “Best head back to the Pit,” Lucy said with a sigh.