Hotter than Texas (Pecan Creek) - By Tina Leonard Page 0,18
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.”