Hotter than Texas (Pecan Creek) - By Tina Leonard Page 0,52
deployed for a long time. You know this.”
Lucy shrugged. “Whatever. She’s dumb. If she asks me, I’ll tell her so.”
Sugar closed her eyes for a second, hating the idea of such a confrontation taking place. “Honey, listen. I love you. But I think you need to go away.”
“Because of a catty broad?” Lucy was incredulous. “Sugar, I’m surprised at you. Besides, I’m really getting into the spirit of PC.”
“PC?” Sugar frowned. That was what Jake called the town.
“Look. Stop worrying about me. I can take care of myself.”
Sugar looked down at the green bills on the table. “I just don’t think there are any guys your age in Pecan Creek that are available.”
Lucy’s jaw sagged. “Sugar, I’m not looking. You know that. Men are the last thing on my mind.”
Sugar did know that. And it bothered her a bit, for her sister’s sake. Wasn’t that a rite of female passage—chasing guys? Until you found the right one for you?
Although she didn’t know if Jake was the “right” one for her. Even if he wasn’t, she was having a great time with him.
Lucy got up and retrieved two glasses of tea from the pitcher in the fridge. She set one down in front of Sugar. “I made this cake. I’m proud of this cake. I’m learning more here in PC than I would in a stuffy old lecture hall. And I’m only twenty-five. Why would I want a stupid boyfriend when you don’t have one? You’re thirty. You didn’t marry Ramon until you were—”
“Almost twenty-five,” Sugar murmured, regretting the painful memories.
“And that’s what you get for settling down too soon,” Lucy said. “Ramon was a nice guy. I see how you made that mistake. But I’m the little sister. I get to learn from your mistakes. I’m going to keep swinging from the trees.”
“Jane eventually got her Tarzan.”
“Yeah, well. When I meet my Tarzan, I’ll know, but it sure as heck’s not Kel, so quit trying to send me out of town on the train of shame. Jeez.”
She whistled for Paris and took her pound cake and tea upstairs. Sugar sat looking at the money, worried and not sure why.
“I’m here,” Jake called to his mother as he let himself inside. “Mom?”
Vivian came into the kitchen. “How nice of you to spare some time.”
So it was going to be Angry Visit Redux Jake sighed. “So your message said you needed to talk to me.”
She nodded. “Come into the den, please.”
Jake grabbed a soda from the fridge, wishing he was steering Sugar down Bad Boy Road with vodka and conversation and maybe some more of those kisses that sent him straight up. “What’s up?”
He sat across from his mother on the prissy sofa.
She set a sheaf of papers in front of him on the coffee table. “This is what’s up.”
He had a bad feeling he knew what was in the papers—all the skeletons in the Cassavechia closet. “I don’t want that.”
“I think it’s your responsibility to know. You should have done a background check on them before you rented them our family home.”
“Damn it.” Jake let out a heartfelt sigh. “Once again, the house had been empty for years. It’s come alive since they’ve been there. I know you don’t like them, I know you wanted some Vanderbilts to rent the place, but I swear they didn’t take my calls. I think they were out of the country on their yacht or something.”
Vivian sniffed. “Any reputable business does a background check.”
Jake eyed the thick sheaf. “Not quite like you do. If your team is this thorough, how come you couldn’t ever find Dad?”
Vivian sucked in a breath. “That’s uncalled for.”
“Yeah. It is.” He leaned back, suddenly tired. “Look, I know you’re whispering in Averie’s ear about how awful the Cassavechias are. I know you want to block Maggie from being the mayor at the parade, and that you think Sugar is one step away from Satan’s princess minion.”
“Please don’t forget the tattooed and bellybutton-ring-wearing little sister with the middle finger forever poised as her trademark,” Vivian said.
Jake closed his eyes for a moment. “So what does the Encyclopedia Britannica of background checks say?”
“Read it.”
How bad could it be? The Cassavechias were human beings, and God only knew, he had his share of skeletons. So did Vivian. “Mom, I’m entirely uncomfortable with this. I really don’t care what gets dug up on them.”
“You’re that crazy about Miss Cassavechia?” Vivian picked up the folder. “Maybe you’d be interested to know that she and her