Hotter than Texas (Pecan Creek) - By Tina Leonard Page 0,30
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