evening would have been kind of unsettling except that seeing Maggie chat like a teen had lifted Sugar’s spirits and kept her from wanting to bean Averie with a dinner roll.
“Mom’s vulnerable,” Lucy said.
“I don’t see the downside of a gorgeous, well-respected man paying attention to her.” Sugar went up the stairs to her room, craving her bed and deep, dreamless sleep.
She did not want Jake haunting her dreams.
“What if Lassiter seduces her?” Lucy asked.
“God bless him if he does,” Sugar replied, and her sister gasped. “When did you turn into the family mother figure?”
“Sugar,” Lucy said, following her, “this town is not what it seems.”
“I don’t care what it is. I don’t care if ghosts come screaming up out of the graves at night, and witches dance on the roofs at moonspell. If Mom finds someone better than the shithead that was our stepfather, do we really think that’s a bad thing, Lucy?”
Lucy stared at her, her eyes huge, as Sugar got on her bed. Lucy flung herself on top of the comforter of the circular bed, patting the rich velvet. “I just don’t think you understand the deep currents here.”
“Maggie can take care of herself. She raised two daughters who went into the military. She’s had plenty to deal with in her life.” Sugar swallowed, thinking about Shithead, who’d left in the middle of the night, courtesy of Sugar and a wooden baseball bat. She felt guilt for that—actually, a hell of a lot of guilt. Maybe Maggie had loved Shithead.
Sugar had run him off. He’d known better than to cross her, his options being few: jail, death by Slugger, or a hasty, permanent exit from the family home. My name is the only sweet thing about me, Sugar thought. “Don’t worry about deep currents. We can swim.”
“I know.” Lucy didn’t look convinced. “So, was it my imagination, or was Kel Underwood hitting on me tonight?”
“He’s married with kids. Probably just a friendly thing.” Sugar yawned. “Tell him you’ll have coffee with his wife if he gets any ideas, and don’t worry about it. Men tend to be sensitive about their wives having coffee with women they hit on.” She stared at her sister. “You don’t like him, do you?”
“God, no.” Lucy sighed. “I don’t think I’ve ever really loved a man, Sugar.”
Pecan Creek’s deep currents weren’t anything compared to theirs. “You will one day.”
“Why’d you surrender Jake to Miss Perfect with the size-five feet and the double-D bazooms?” Lucy flipped over on her back, gazing up at the circle of ceiling visible from the round harbor of the velvet hangings.
“I didn’t surrender him,” Sugar said. “There’s nothing between Jake and me, and it’s getting old telling everyone that.”
“I think he took her home.”
An arrow shot into Sugar’s heart. “I don’t care, Lucy.”
“I think you do. A little.” Her sister turned over to look at her. “If it wasn’t for Ramon, you would. You’ve got your heart locked up tighter than a virgin’s legs because of Ramon. But I don’t think Jake’s a cheater. He might be easily led, though, so hard-to-get might not be the best card to play when you’ve got Averie-the-Barbie-doll trying to drag him into her dollhouse. I thought she was going to massage him under the table.”
“I do not care,” Sugar repeated, closing her eyes. “I have too much on my mind to care what Jake Bentley does in his spare time. Or under tables.”
“It’s weird,” Lucy said. “I’m just so sure he digs you. He looked like he was going to explode when Bobby German started sucking up to you. Was Bobby hitting on you?”
“No.” Sugar sighed. “Can we talk about anything but Jake?”
“Well,” Lucy said, “I’ve got two hundred bucks to put in the kitty.”
Sugar’s eyes flew open. “Where’d you get two hundred dollars?”
“I’m doing some work for Charlotte Dawson. Easy breezy gopher stuff.”
“I thought you said she was Miss Osborne the Mop on senility drugs.”
“Yeah,” Lucy said, “I might have misunderstood her clarity on certain things. She’s pretty cool, actually.”
Sugar stared at her sister, who reclined on her bed like the old days, when they’d spent hours lying on their beds telling secrets. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Sugar, this isn’t basic training, you know? Helping Charlotte is not the same as running a course or flying a helicopter. Besides, I’ve got to make a living. No one ever said you had to be the only breadwinner in the house. If we get hotterthanhellnuts.com off the ground, I’ll tell Charlotte