Hotter than Texas (Pecan Creek) Page 8

  “It will happen again,” Evert said, “because you dig her. You loved showing this place off. We just want a commitment that you don’t bring her down here during our time. We’re not ready for a swing shack, dude.”

  “Swing shack?” Jake looked around at his buddies. “Could you clarify?”

  “It’ll feel like we’re cheating,” Evert said. “We tell our significant others that we’re never with other women. It’s true, ’cause we’re not. We’re down here, doing nothing, sure, but nothing’s not bad if it doesn’t involve a female. If Sugar is a regular visitor, then there’s no reason other ladies can’t come down, and then our one haven becomes a hangout. We don’t want our ladies here, so if other women are here, technically we’d be cheating.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Jake examined the complaint from every angle, impressed by his friends’ consideration of the issue. “And I swear she’ll keep our secret. One thing about the Cassavechias, they’re not much for gossip.”

  The men nodded.

  “Thanks for understanding,” Kel said. “It’s a small thing, but really important, you know?”

  “It is important,” Jake said, but Kel raised a hand to stall him.

  “Debbie and I are getting a divorce,” he said, “and I don’t want her to have any reason to hit me with anything that would alienate me with the courts.”

  “What?” Jake exclaimed. “Kel! For the love of God!” He stared at his friend, shocked, realizing he was serious. “Debbie was all you talked about when we were over on the other side of the world, convinced we were never going to get back. Debbie and those ugly kids of yours. Pull your head out, man, you love your wife. And if this is about Lucy,” Jake said, shaking his head, “you are barking up a dead tree, my friend. Cassavechias are nothing to mess with, and as much as I hate to dent your ego, Lucy does not know you’re alive.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Kel said miserably. “Debbie knows.”

  Evert slapped a commiserating paw against Kel’s back. Bobby German shook his lunkhead and looked like his own heart was breaking.

  “My God.” Jake sank onto a barstool, absolutely mystified. “Kel, think, man! Think about those kids of yours. I know I call them ugly, but that’s just because I’m jealous as hell. You’re the only one with little tax deductions. Their lives will change without you around. They already spent way too many years without you while we were serving. Do not throw your marriage away over a fast—I mean, over Lucy.”

  Kel got up and found himself a contraband beer. “Debbie knew, man. She knew when we made love that I’d gotten the hots for another lady. She put up with it for a while, but when certain things in our sex life changed, she filed. There’s nothing I can do.”

  Jake cleared his throat, glancing at Evert and Bobby for assistance. “Change it back, whatever it was.”

  “I can’t.” Kel’s face was a study in complete confusion. “Certain things just aren’t working anymore, when we get together. Debbie said I used to be like a jack-in-the-box. Now she says I’m more like one of those water-wiggle things that only flop around when the water spigot’s on full blast.”

  “Crap,” Jake said. “Go see a doctor. Get some of those blue pills. Get a girlie magazine. Take Debbie to a dirty drive-in, or better yet, send the kids off and rent some porn. Figure out a way to save your marriage.”

  Kel shook his head. “I think I need to find out what’s on the dark side, man.”

  Jake closed his eyes for a minute, seeing Sugar lying on the pier, those beautiful breasts kind of relaxed and loose under the tight tank top. Could he blame Kel for losing his mind over Lucy?

  He was no better than Kel.

  I’m just single, which is what he understands. He doesn’t want to “cheat” on his wife by having females down here, but I’d take Sugar on the pool table if I could.

  “Which reminds me,” Bobby German said, “Averie came by the restaurant to see you. Said she had something she wanted to give you.”

  Jake looked up from pondering a nonexistent bump in the pool table felt. “Give me what?”

  “I don’t know,” Bobby said, “but I think it was either sex or a piece of her mind. She’s heard that you’ve got a thing for the new muff in town.”

  “I do not,” Jake said, “have a thing for what you just said.” He got up and went to get a beer from the same stash Kel had hit. “What did you tell her?”

  “That you’d be by tonight at eight o’clock to pick up whatever she wants to give you.” Evert shrugged. “Far be it from me to judge.”

  Jake stared. “Who are you, my social secretary?”

  “Kind of,” Evert said. “She said it was important. She also said she’s thinking about going out with Kennedy Carson, because she’s getting tired of waiting on you to pull your head out of your butt. I’m not supposed to tell you that,” Evert continued with some pride, “so please don’t mention it. I kind of like being the guy the ladies tell their troubles to, but trust is imperative.”

  “You don’t say.” Jake stood. “I don’t want sex with Averie, and I don’t want a piece of her mind.”

  “Those Cassavechias really know how to take a man apart, don’t they?” Kel sighed dramatically.

  “Just buy Debbie some sexy lingerie and fix your marriage, Kel,” Jake said, heading up the secret stairs to get away from all the angst in the pit.

  He was in as bad a spot as Kel.

  Vivian looked at Jake when he appeared in the kitchen of her small, two-bedroom home located at the opposite end of Azalea Street, not too far from Charlotte Dawson’s house. “If you’re here to twist my arm further about the Cassavechia woman, I’m late for a meeting with the committee.”

  “You can tell them,” Jake said, “that Maggie Cassavechia has graciously accepted the position of mayor.”

  “I think you know that woman is not what I had in mind when I envisioned presenting Pecan Creek to the visiting public in a positive, welcoming light.” His mother looked at him, her gaze bitter. “We will hardly end up on the pages of Southern Living as a small town worthy of interest with her smoking cigarettes and advising the public of the fun of lying out topless in one’s backyard.” Vivian sniffed. “Yes, I heard about that. Your meathead friends can’t keep a secret to save their lives.”

  Jake leaned against the kitchen counter. “Mom, look. Maggie is not the devil you paint her as. She’s a nice, friendly lady. Visitors will love her.”

  “They may find her quaint, but they won’t be convinced to bring their money to Pecan Creek.”

  “And it all comes down to commerce.” Jake sighed.

  “Yes, it does,” Vivian snapped. “How do you think I pay for this place, Jake? And where do you think the revenues come from to keep Pecan Creek up to date and well repaired? You may not be aware of this, but it does cost quite a bit of money to keep Pecan Creek with the town services we all enjoy. Perhaps you’d prefer to raise taxes on a town that hasn’t had a decent employment rate in the last five years?”

  “So we make our money on body potions and body candy.” Jake shrugged. “It won’t be the end of PC commerce if Maggie serves as our mayor.”

  “The super-tanned, rumpled persona of Pecan Creek. Let’s see, would you respond better to a woman who looks like she’s been down a few hard miles of road, or a confident man who’s a war hero?”

  “Easy on the war-hero stuff, Mom,” Jake warned. “Maggie will be fine.”

  “Maggie, as you call her, wouldn’t be put forth as the face of Pecan Creek if you didn’t have significant hots for her daughter. A mistake you will rue, I feel certain, when Averie marries someone else. And I hate it when you call Pecan Creek PC. I really do. I’m well aware you’re making fun of the quiet businesses the ladies run by disparaging us as not being exactly politically correct.”

  Jake shook his head. “Let’s not go there today, all right? Go to your meeting. I’m going to sit here and think. You got a beer in the fridge?”

  “I do not,” V
ivian said, her tone frosty. “I do not drink.”

  “You do drink,” Jake said, pulling open a cabinet in the kitchen and pulling out a bottle of homemade wine fresh from her small fermentation station in the backyard shed. “I hope this has some kick.”

  “Is something wrong?” Vivian asked, her motherly instincts rising to the surface.

  “No.” Jake slung himself into the wicker sofa facing out into a backyard where the last flowers of summer ran in riotous tangles of white crepe myrtle blossoms. “Everything is just ducky.”

  “It’s that woman, isn’t it?” Vivian asked. “You know, Averie is aware your attention has become a bit divided.”

  He opened the bottle. His mother handed him a crystal long-stemmed wineglass. “Are you kidding me? Don’t you have something more user-friendly?”

  “No,” Vivian said, “use this and don’t drink out of the bottle. I’m running low on my private label.”

  Jake laughed. “Private label. Is that what they called it during Prohibition?” He poured some in the delicate wineglass and took a swig. After a moment of the wine moving past his taste buds—granted he’d swigged it pretty fast, but the hints remained—he looked at his mother. “Damn, that’s pretty good. Why don’t you just sell wine instead of fronting sex businesses under the radar for your friends?”

  “Does it bother you if the ladies make a little pin money on the side?” Vivian asked curiously. “They pay taxes to the town on their revenues. They do community service. Do you have a complaint?”

  “No. I just think your wine is pretty good.” He looked at the liquid in the glass. “If you’re worried about money, this could be a very viable option.”

  “I don’t think winemaking is a business model I’ll employ. When I was growing up, we weren’t even allowed to go into a liquor store. My parents didn’t have anything in the house that had been fermented unless it was brandied fruit.”

  “Come on, Mom. You know very well your parents had a bit of brandy tucked away for medicinal purposes. It wasn’t all about the fermented fruit on shortcake.”

  Vivian picked up her straw handbag, sending him a last glance. “Lock up when you leave, please. And don’t forget to call Averie. She’d really like to chat with you, sooner than later.”

  He shook his head. “There’s nothing between Averie and me. It was over months ago. Just because she says there’s something to talk about doesn’t mean there is.”

  “She’s from a very nice family, Jake. One with roots in this community, who will be here long after the Florida God-knows-whats are gone.”

  He raised his glass to his mother. “I’ll lock up.”

  Vivian left, and Jake let the stillness envelop him. He closed his eyes on the wicker sofa, enjoying the peace and quiet. He tried not to think about Kel’s problem, and the fact that Lucy had run over his friend like a bulldozer and didn’t even know it.

  Damn, he did not want to end up like Kel.

  Hey, red leather, nearly untouched confidante,

  Haven’t checked in lately. Actually not since the first entry. Maybe Maggie and Sugar are being more loyal to the red journal idea. I’ve never been much for writing letters or anything else. I’d like to say I’ll try harder, but I was just trying to amp Sugar when I agreed to this, so don’t count on it.

  Lucy leaned back on her bed in the Belle Watling madam room, admiring the red velvet drapes and the gold-tasseled bedding. “Vivian may be a stick, but she gets what makes a girl feel sexy,” she said, then continued her confession.

  Just wanted you to know I’m pretty sure we’re screwed here in Pecanland. Not to be the voice of doom, but between Maggie’s memory and Sugar’s leap of faith, I fear the FOB may be DOA.

  But, whatever! Cassavechias can handle anything.

  At least I hope we can.

  P.S. I’ve got a job. It’s kind of whack working for Whistler’s Mother shipping this season’s fashion outerwear for the discerning ding-a-ling, but it’s money. What’s a girl supposed to do? Cash is queen in my book.

  Maybe I’ll start a blog about our journey. It’d be a helluva lot more interesting than talking to myself in this stupid diary!

  Chapter Eight

  Sugar found herself sitting in Jake’s truck the next evening, picked up almost as if they were going on a date. They weren’t. He’d called it “dinner to make amends for being a dumbass,” so she’d accepted. “This is not necessary.”

  “Don’t want my renter ticked at me.” Jake pulled in to a tiny bar and grill with a small white-gravel parking lot. “Pecan Fanny’s” flashed in pink neon above the black roof. “This is the place you never hear about if you’re a tourist.”

  “Does Pecan Creek have many tourists?” Sugar asked.

  “Not enough,” Jake said. “Only at Christmas for the small-town parade bullcrap we put on. We get a few antiquers in the summers. Occasionally someone on the road back from Louisiana when the highway’s jammed up. We’re an out-of-the-way side road, but folks stumble on us that way.”

  Sugar smiled. “You love this place, don’t you?”

  “I’m pretty sure I don’t love anything except my mother in a maternal sense. Maybe my buddies, in a fraternal sense.” He shook his head. “The military had my loyalty and my gut. I loved it until I realized I was too lazy to be a lifer.”

  “You aren’t lazy.” She looked at Jake as he got out of the truck. He came around to her side, helping her out. “You talk about being lazy like it’s a goal. But I don’t think you’ve quite succeeded yet.”

  “I’m working my ass off on it, though.” He walked her inside, and they took a table by a sparkly clean window that looked out over an open field. “Can I get you a drink, Sugar?”

  She looked at him. “I’d love a beer.”

  “Good woman. Two longnecks, Suzy,” he told the waitress, who looked pleased to see Jake in the tiny eatery. “So, Sugar, I’m sorry about the other day.”

  “Why?” She was curious to know exactly what Jake was apologizing for.

  “For saying I’d like to get you naked. I would, of course, but don’t let it worry you. I know how to keep my inner animal locked away.”

  “Good.” Sugar looked at him. “I shouldn’t have dumped you in the pond. I have a short fuse for jerks. And I think I’m pretty much not ready for men who are probably nice guys but say something jerky.”

  “Understood.” He raised a longneck to her when Suzy put them on the table. “Apology accepted?”

  She nodded. “The thing is, I think my basic frustration with you is Maggie. I feel like you have an opportunistic side, and I don’t want you using my mom.”

  “I get it.” He nodded. “You think I’m playing the whole Cassavechia family.”

  “Well, not Lucy. Lucy’s too clever to let some guy use her.”

  He sighed, and Sugar wondered what was on his mind. But he drank his beer and pretended to study the menu, not broaching whatever he was thinking. Sugar did likewise, almost too jittery to select something to eat, until she realized she was jittery because she actually forgave Jake for jumping the gun with the naked comment, and maybe she even kind of liked him, and then she felt a little ill.

  It was far too soon to fall a little bit in like with someone, especially a sexy, handsome guy like Jake who had a tiny blonde that would make her feel like a basketball player standing next to her.

  A huge truck painted with camouflage pulled up on the gravel next to Jake’s truck, and Jake sighed. “Here comes excitement. Do you mind company?”

  Sugar looked at the door in time to see three big guys come in with two women. “Friends of yours?”

  “Lifelong.” Jake grimaced when his buddies filtered over to their table, crowding around and pulling up chairs. “Everybody, this is Sugar. Sugar, in case you don’t recall, this is Bobby German, Evert Carmichael and Kel Underwood. They own the Bait and Burgers. This is Cat Jenkins, who works at the coffee shop, and Sandy Goody, the sheriff’s daughter. They’ve got a farm that keeps S
andy busy.”

  “Hi, everyone.” Sugar nodded, smiling.

  They pulled up a table, connecting the two together, and sat down in a noisy flock of fun. Evert sat Cat next to him, tagging them as a couple, and Sandy took the chair on the other side of Cat, obviously unattached. “I’ll call Lucy to round out the group,” Sugar said, and Jake said, “No!”

  She put her phone back in her purse. “O-kay.”

  He put a hand over hers, leaned close. “I’ll tell you later.”

  His hand was warm; he smelled great. Sugar blinked, feeling something snap inside her. She gazed into Jake’s dark eyes, just four inches from hers, and felt herself gripping hard on to the edge of the side of sanity.

  If she let go, if she slipped and let herself fall into the pit of love again, she knew she would regret it. It was a dark, foul pit full of heated emotions and sharp ups and downs, the roller-coaster ride from hell.

  No roller coaster of love for her.

  “We’ve figured it out, Jake,” Bobby said, and the girls nodded enthusiastically.

  “Got what figured out?”

  “Where we’re going to have our party. The last party of the summer.”

  “Yet it’s pretty much fall already,” Jake said. “There’s a hook here, watch for it,” he told Sugar.

  “A party sounds like fun to me,” Sugar said, and the girls smiled at her.

  “We’re going to have the party at Sheriff Goody’s in the field where we play shirts ’n’ skins,” Bobby continued. “And we’re going to have it open to the community and bill it as a charity event for Pecan Creek. We’ll charge admission, and the money will go to put an ad up on the billboard outside of town.”

  “What ad?” Jake asked carefully.

  “A year-round ad that proclaims Pecan Creek as the most honest, growing town in Texas,” Evert said. “Thousands of people will see it all year long.”

  “You didn’t tell me that the highway sign needed an ad buyer,” Sugar said.

  “I didn’t,” Jake said, meeting her gaze, “because rotating ads have been working just fine. And we’ve been booked solid.”