Hotter than Texas (Pecan Creek) - By Tina Leonard Page 0,77
closed her eyes. The next thing she knew, he was pulling up the drive. She ran to him, crushing his forearms with trembling fingers.
“I called the sheriff,” Jake said. “Are you all right?”
Sugar didn’t have to hold up any longer; she didn’t have to hide behind bravery. She crumbled against Jake’s chest. “There’s a man in my sister’s bed.”
“I know. It’s Bobby. Isn’t that all right? You’re not uptight about sex, Sugar. Everybody else in this town is, uptight is what we specialize in, but you—”
“It’s not Bobby.” She felt like she was probably squeezing the blood out of his arms, but she desperately needed his strength to keep from freaking out worse than she was.
“Who is it?”
“I’ve never seen him before. And I’m almost certain he’s dead.”
“Oh shit. That’s news I can use,” Jake said. He rubbed her back and hit some numbers on his cell phone. “Sheriff, listen, you might have an ambulance sent out to the old family place too. There may be someone who requires transport.”
He hung up. “Sugar, it’s going to be okay.”
She started shaking uncontrollably. “He was staring at the ceiling, Jake.”
Christ, Jake thought. He held Sugar tighter, wondering why this had to happen to her, why life in Pecan Creek was never normal. “It’s okay,” he said, running his hand down her soft auburn locks. “It’s going to be all right.”
She didn’t say anything for a long moment. Jake closed his eyes, feeling her trembling almost in his soul. “God, I’m sorry, Sugar. When I rented you this place, I didn’t know it was going to be a haunted house.”
“You warned me that there were ghosts,” Sugar reminded him.
“Yeah, but they’re ours. And I was just trying to sell you on the joint.”
“By scaring the hell out of me?”
Jake held her a bit tighter, hoping to help her feel more secure. “People love ghost stories.”
“I don’t.”
“I just wanted to keep you,” Jake admitted. “I loved your legs. I would have told you there was gold buried in the backyard if that would have helped, but I sensed you were only interested in pecans.”
“Yet you were looking at my legs?” Sugar asked with a slight sniffle against his chest.
He locked her in his arms, loving how her head wedged right underneath his chin. “And your ass, I confess. As I mentioned, I am no hero.”
“I know.”
Sheriff Goody’s truck sprayed gravel up the drive as he parked near the house. The sheriff hopped out. “What’s going on at the old homestead, Jake?”
“I haven’t checked it out in person, but you might want to step up to one of the guest rooms.” He spoke in code, trying not to upset Sugar. He’d just calmed her down, marginally. At least she wasn’t vibrating like a guitar string anymore.
“Ah. The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas room, or the Belle Watling room? No one ever slept in the American Gigolo room,” the sheriff said. “Whatever’s up there, I know it didn’t pick that room. Vivian’s decorating went off the rails with that room.”
Jake winced. “Head for the Belle Watling room. I’ll wait down here for the ambulance.”
“Should be right behind me. Evening, Miss Sugar.” Sheriff Goody bounded up the porch steps and into the house.
Sugar looked up at him. “Does everyone know about your mother’s decorating taste?”
“Hard to keep something like that quiet. Contractors tend to talk.” Jake sighed. “Besides which, she did a spread in a small national magazine looking for B&B customers, until she decided she’d rather rent the place. I think it was the cooking she hated.”
Only they hadn’t ever rented the house.
“Your mother doesn’t want me to lease the town billboard because I’ve got ‘hell’ in my business name, but it’s okay to have a virtual chicken ranch that everyone knows about?”
He pulled Sugar over to a chair in the garden, pushing her down. Paris settled at her feet in a furry circle of gold. Jake knelt down beside Sugar. “I can’t explain everything about Vivian. She’s a queen bee.”
Sugar sniffed. “Her real problem, Jake, is that she’s afraid I’m going to steal you away from her. I’m different, I’m an out-of-towner, and I just might drag you away from her queenship, Pecan Creek.”
Jake blinked. “You might have a point.”
“Well,” Sheriff Goody said, coming back outside, letting the screen door slam behind him, “that’s one dead body you got up there, Jake.”
“That sucks,” Jake said.
“Yep.” The sheriff pulled out his radio. “Rigor mortis has set in. Body’s been there a few hours.”