Sugar's Twice as Sweet: Sugar, Georgia: Book 1 (11 page)

“Grandma, how about you and the ladies head on over to our place. There’s some beer in the fridge, cards in the game chest. Just make sure the cigars are smoked outside or Cal will have my—” Grandma Hattie cleared her throat. “We can all get a good night’s rest and work this all out in the morning.” When none of the ladies moved, he added, “It’s the neighborly thing to do.”

It took some cajoling, a little flirting, and a whole lot of bribing—including an economy-sized pack of signed briefs—to get them gone. But five minutes later he was watching them roll Jelly-Lou down the ramp, arguing over who won the last hand.

He closed the door and turned to Joie, more excited to be alone with her than he should be.

“Nice top. That color really brings out your—” he purposely paused, loving the way her face went pink, matching her lace, “—eyes.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Humiliation and lace seem to be my thing lately.”

She crossed her arms in an attempt to look tough. Imagine his delight when that only highlighted those beautiful breasts of hers. Which from the looks of them were cold—or she wasn’t as immune to him as she pretended.

“Sounds like a story I’d love to hear.” He leaned a shoulder against the door. “Maybe over dinner. Or we could go straight for the pillow talk.”

“Briefs, huh?” Joie said after a good old-fashioned eye-rolling.

“Apparently they fetch a good price online.” They were back to surface sparring, so why didn’t he feel relieved?

Glass crunched and a few chips snapped under his boots as he crossed the room. He glanced down at her bare feet with red tips and understood why she hadn’t moved. Sliding a hand down her arm, he wrapped his fingers around the club, untangling it from hers and setting it against the wall.

Josephina stood silent, staring at the floor. Then she looked up at him and, wow. No sense in denying it. She was gorgeous.

He’d spent the better part of the week avoiding her, rationalizing that if he didn’t see her this insane attraction would fade.

It hadn’t. And now he didn’t think ignoring her was going to work.

She had a great body, long and toned with X-rated curves, which was currently so close he could smell her shampoo. Her hair was loose, bed-rumpled, and seemed to glow under what was left of the chandelier. She was biting down on that full lower lip, which had starred in some pretty impressive dreams lately. Her nose was pert, peeling, and little too pink.

Tinker Bell had been out in the sun.

He pulled a little piece of curled-up skin off her nose. “You should wear lotion when you sunbathe. Georgia sun is strong,”

“I was pulling weeds.”
Interesting.
“And I did.” She scrunched her nose, making it pinker. “Guess not enough though.”

He looked at her hands. They were small and elegant, even though every nail was chipped. So Tinker Bell liked to get dirty. She got more fascinating by the moment, and that was not a good thing. Especially when those blue eyes, soft and so big he was afraid that if he wasn’t careful he might just fall into them, met his.

“You okay?” He stepped closer, resting a hand on either hip. His fingers brushed the exposed skin between her tiny bottoms and even tinier top.

She nodded, then thought better of it and shook her head. “The chandelier,” she whispered so low he barely made out the words. “It’s broken, isn’t it?”

Brett looked up
.
“It’s not that bad,” he lied.

“It was Letty’s favorite.”

He could also tell that it was hers. Hell, she had slept under it that first night. Tonight, though, she had called him from a bed, which added a new location for his fantasies.

“I can fix it,” he heard himself offer.

She shrugged, deflated. “It’ll never be the same. And pretending it is, is even worse than admitting it’s broke.”

When she spoke like that, her voice filled with sadness and something deeper, it tore at his gut. He wanted to do whatever it took to bring back that sassy and stubborn woman he’d picked up on the side of the highway. He knew how to handle her. This woman, the vulnerable one with her heart on display, made him nervous.

“You are not what I expected, Joie. One minute you’re this carefully manicured woman who is so together it’s annoying. The next you’re in fairy wings looking like a tornado hit and worrying yourself over an old lamp. What I want to know is which one is the real Josephina Harrington?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, tugging at the hem of her nightshirt, looking as if she’d somehow disappointed him.

“What am I going to do with you?” He closed the gap, surprised when she dropped her head to his chest.

Right then, he knew exactly what he wanted to do with her. The image of her in that getup, in whatever bed she’d been calling from, was making a lasting impression. He just hoped she didn’t notice.

“That’s all right. No one ever knows what to do with me. Most of the time I barely know what to do with myself.”

“Sounds exciting.” It did. Every second of his life, it seemed, belonged to someone else. His manager, his sponsors, his fans, his career, his family. Even now, stuck in his hometown, bored out of his ever-loving mind, it was still at someone else’s request. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that his life was his own.

“Sometimes. But usually it just lands me in a mess.”

“Like I said before, messy can be sexy.” It was what drew him to her. She pretended to be carefully put together, but under all of that big-city swagger was this free spirit who felt her way through life. Unlike him, for whom every action had a monetary value and decisions were weighted by repercussions, public image, and upside.

“Or it can just be messy.”

“Not on you.” He traced a finger up her arm to her chin, tilting her head to meet his gaze.

A heat passed through her eyes that told him she liked his touching her, liked being with him. Determined to find out just how much she liked his hands on her, he tightened his grip on her hip, shifting closer until they brushed up against each other. He dipped his head, just enough to let her know his intent.

Her breath caught and suddenly their mouths were only a fraction apart. Their gazes held, neither talking, just sharing breath.

“Brett,” she whispered again, her voice a little thick. “We shouldn’t. I just got out of a relationship and you, well, it’s weird that I don’t even know you but I’ve seen your tattoo and…”

Brett smiled. So she had seen the video. Paid close enough attention to notice his tattoo, which meant she was staring in the vicinity of his ass. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. But her dilated eyes and shallow breathing were.

It was the damnedest thing, they were barely touching and yet he was reacting as if they were naked and pressed against each other. Maybe this was what he needed, one night to get her out of his system, then he could forget about this crazy attraction and go back to lying low.

Just one night.

He lowered his head and she went up on her toes. Her eyes fluttered shut. He wasn’t sure who started it, but suddenly they were kissing, her arms on his chest, his in her hair. Their lips brushed once, and then some more. Tender little kisses that made his chest tight and his jeans even tighter.

She gave a small purr of approval that was pretty much his undoing. She didn’t grab or demand, instead cuddling into him all soft and vulnerable. So damn vulnerable. With another sexy sigh she pulled back, just enough so that they weren’t kissing but were sharing breath, staring into each other’s eyes. Hers were huge and unguarded, showing him every damn thing she was feeling.

Brett tensed, waiting—hoping like hell—for her to push him away. End this and give him an easy out.

Too bad nothing about her was easy. She wrapped her arms around his middle, pulling him close enough to bury her head in his chest, and her whole body melted into his. That one move changed the game.

He stood there, stock-still, his hands at his side. His brain raced, trying to figure out what she needed from him. Apparently it was a hug, because when he wrapped his arms around her, she let go a warm sigh that went all the way to his heart. She held on to him as if she were afraid there was somewhere else he’d rather be. Which should have terrified him, because there wasn’t. He could stand there all night and just hold her, listen to those soft little sounds of hers, which turned him on almost as much as her mouth.

A sure sign that he was in trouble.

A lot of trouble. There was no room for this in his life. Nowhere for this moment to go. He was leaving and she wasn’t a casual-fling kind of girl. Still, he pulled her closer, wanting to be what she needed.

Understanding his offer, she smiled into his chest and shuffled closer.

“Ouch!” She shifted her feet again, “Ow, ow, ow!”

Without asking what was wrong or giving her any more time to play tap dance roulette on a bed of glass, Brett scooped her up and carried her to the couch, trying to ignore how soft and curvy she felt against him.

Setting her on one end, he eased himself down across from her and lifted her foot.
Shit.

“How are you with blood?”

O
h, God, blood. She closed her eyes and swallowed back her dinner.

“Yeah, me either.” He chuckled, but it didn’t hold any humor.

She opened one eye, peeked through her lashes, and immediately felt woozy. A huge chunk of glass stuck out from the sole. All she could think of was an iceberg, and she wondered, with a tip that size, how much was in her foot?

“Get it out!”

Boo plopped down against her thigh, covered his head with his paws, and whined.

“If I pull it out there’s going to be a whole lot of blood.” Mr. Tough Cowboy looked kind of pale.

“And I’ll bleed out?”

“Ah, sugar, you’ve been in New York too long. I meant that you’ll most likely need stitches. Which means I need to get you to a doctor before I see the blood.”

Twenty minutes and a terrifying car ride later, Josephina sat on an exam table at the Sugar Medical Center. Brett had wrapped her up in a bathrobe—thank God—and drove like it was the final lap in a NASCAR championship race, probably afraid she’d get blood on his precious truck.

Willing herself not to look at her foot—again—she turned her head and caught a reflection of herself in the mirror above the sink. On second thought, maybe he didn’t want to be seen with her.

She was wearing an epic case of bed-head and Letty’s bathrobe, which was muumuu-shaped and electric-mango-colored with bulls wearing bow ties on it. And yet it was less humiliating than the teddy she had on underneath.

A flash of white doctor’s robe passed by the small square window, and Josephina’s belly went queasy. Doctors meant needles. And the only thing she hated more than blood was needles. Which explained why she pushed off the table, desperate to make an escape.

A strong, calloused hand came to rest on her thigh, pinning her to the table.

“In high school, I was one of the best bulldoggers in the county,” Brett whispered in her ear. “And I bet I could take you down in under a second. Might even be fun.”

The door opened and in walked the doctor. Tall, exquisite, and sophisticated, she flashed a megawatt smile and moved gracefully across the room with a confident ease that made men swallow their tongues whole.

“I understand you had quite the social event earlier this evening,” she said, her perfect white teeth gleaming even brighter in Josephina’s direction. “Well, even though the circumstances are unfortunate, it’s good to see you again. Now, let’s take a look, shall we?”

“Hey, Brett,” she said, picking up Josephina’s foot, her eyes glued to the hunk of glass catching in the light.

“Hey, Charlotte. Thanks for seeing us so quickly.” Brett’s hand gently massaged Josephina’s thigh. “I heard you almost reached your goal for the new children’s wing.”

“Can you believe it?”
Charlotte
finally looked up, her cheeks tinted with pride. “I’ve been dreaming about this for years and it’s almost here.”

Josephina had read about the proposed pediatric center in the local paper, which she had found shoved up the tailpipe of Ulysses earlier that afternoon. A Texas-based company had agreed to fund the much-needed pediatric ward in Sugar. The center would support all the children of Sugar and a good portion of the surrounding area. Since the center and its building were privately owned, the actual addition would have to be paid for by the center’s founders, the Holden family, who had already agreed to shoulder a large part of the debt. From what Josephina had read, the town had stepped in, planning a host of fundraisers to make up the difference.

“And a huge part of that is due to you, Brett. So thanks.”

Brett just shrugged, but Josephina noticed that his ears went a little pink at the praise.

“Just a few stitches and you’ll be good as new.” The doctor slipped a monitor on Josephina’s finger. “Now, Mr. McGraw, if you could just give us some privacy, I can have her all cleaned up and ready to go.”

“You want me to stay?” Brett gave Josephina an encouraging smile. It was warm and open and real and it made her heart do dangerous things. Like set off that damn thing stuck on her finger.

The doctor flicked a glance at the monitor, currently beeping as if it was part of Defcon One.

“The minute I take this shard of glass out, she’s going to bleed like a stuck pig, and since I have no inclination to clean you up off my office floor, I’m guessing this is where you say goodbye.” Her gaze landed on Brett and something passed between them, something easy and comfortable. Something akin to history.

Charlotte moved to the sink to wash up, tossing Josephina a sly smile as Brett hightailed it out the door mumbling something about being right outside.

 “Is there going to be a lot of blood?” Josephina asked, scooting to the back of the exam table as the doctor took the cap off the syringe.

“No; I figured you’d be more comfortable if he wasn’t in here, and to be honest, your heart racing like that doesn’t make this any easier.”

Great. One of Brett’s women—who obviously thought Josephina and Brett were doing the cowboy cha-cha—was armed with a needle and about to perform surgery on her foot.

“Before you stick that thing in my arm, I want to know if you and Brett are dating. And to tell you he’s here…with me…because he was just being
neighborly
.”

“Honey, this isn’t going in your arm.” Josephina went clammy. “And as for Brett, my granddaddy said he’d castrate all three brothers if even just one looked at me with interest.” She shrugged, fiddling with the needle again. “When a Georgia state judge who is on record in support of public lynching as a form of capital punishment says something like that, it works. Not that I was interested, much to my mama’s dismay. Being a McGraw makes him one of the most sought-after men in this county. And, well, my mama, being the current regent of the Sugar Peaches, would have looked the other way had I accidentally fallen into a compromising situation that would’ve led to a ring. Unless it happened to be the youngest of the brothers.”

“Why?”

“According to my mother, Jace,” her voice thickened, “bless his heart, has a past that no amount of money or fame could excuse with regards to marriage.”

“I meant, why would she want you to marry a McGraw?”

Charlotte wiggled a very manicured brow. “In these parts, McGraws are gods. Their great-great-grandfather, Cletus McGraw, helped found this town, and the McGraw men are legendary for being honorable, loyal, and, as of this last generation, rich as sin. Not to mention handsome. His parents had one of the most talked-about love affairs in these parts, second only to their grandparents.”

“Spenser said they died in a fire.”

“It was a horrible loss for everyone, especially those boys. During a lightning storm, a bolt hit the roof and their whole house went up. Mr. McGraw got the boys outside and went back in for his wife, who was looking for Jace, not knowing he was already safe. She had asthma and passed out from the smoke. They made it to the hospital but both died an hour later, within minutes of each other, while holding hands and whispering how much they loved each other.”

“Oh, my God.” For a girl who never cried the room was looking awful blurry.

“My daddy was on duty that night and said that even though Mr. McGraw died first, his heart monitor continued to beat because—” Charlotte clutched her chest, syringe still sticking out of her hand, “—his wife’s heart was beating through his. Can you imagine? She was literally giving him her heart, so they could go together. When she died the doctors had to pry their hands apart.”

Josephina swallowed hard, her heart cracking a little more for the boy she had once known and the man she was starting to understand. “No wonder the brothers are all single. I mean, how can anyone even live up to that?” She sure as hell couldn’t.

“I know. Even after all these years, people still talk about it. The whole town is waiting for one of those boys to fall. Folks thought that Cal had taken the fall with his wife, Tawny, but that was a dose of blinding lust not love, because everyone knows that when McGraw men fall, they go all in. Been that way for a century and a half. Why, to hear my mama tell it, just the way their daddy would look at Mrs. McGraw was enough to make a bystander swoon.”

“How come you never dated one then?”

“Because my mama wanted me to.” She smiled and Josephina found herself smiling back. “Now, close your eyes and lie back. You’re looking too pale for it being so close to my quitting time.”

Josephina did as she was told, feeling like a wimp.

“And, honey, being
neighborly
is Brett talk for let’s get naked, feet to Jesus style.”

“Yeah, well. I’m not interested in being seen naked or showing anyone my feet.”

“I think it might be a little late,” the doctor said to Josephina’s toes, then looked at her robe and grinned. “On both accounts.”

Poke. The old Josephina would have thrown up. The new Josephina, the one who was ready to take on the world, stifled a whimper.

 “You really don’t remember me.” Poke. Poke.

When Josephina just shook her head, the doctor stuck a latexed hand out. “Charlotte Holden. Your aunt Letty used to sit me during the summer when my mama had a Peaches’ meeting.” Josephina blinked, still at a loss. “I convinced you to climb up that big old oak tree.”

“You stole the ladder and left me up there,” Josephina said, remembering the little brunette in ruffles and pearls who had conned her into climbing the tree, then called her a liar and ran off.

“You said you could fly. I wanted proof.”

“I was in that tree for most of the day.” Well, until the neighbor boy rescued her, and overcome with gratitude, and one too many
From Here to Eternity
viewings with Letty, she’d kissed him.

Josephina froze at the memory, her heart going kind of squishy. Young Brett had dusted the dirt off her dress, retied the bow on her pigtails, and believed her when she confessed she was a fairy waiting for her wings.

Even though her first kiss had been with the man who had slept his way through the better part of the South and some of the outlying coastal states, she couldn’t help but smile. Whether it was the memory of Brett walking her home or whatever the good doctor had in the now-empty syringe, she didn’t know.

Charlotte grabbed a roll of gauze. “So you and Brett, huh? I must say I’m impressed, you move fast.”

“What? No. I already told you, we’re just friends. Not even that really.”

“If you say so.”

“He came to break up a ‘social event’ when a gun went off and I stepped in glass.” She paused, feeling the tips of her ears heat. “Even if there was something there, which there isn’t—”

Charlotte let out a disbelieving snort that somehow sounded cultured.

“I’m here in Sugar in a party-of-one capacity and penis-carting members need not apply.” She considered and then added, “Unless they have a spare tire around the waist, bad breath, and their own power tools. Then all bets are off.”

“That bad, huh?” Charlotte said, taking a seat on the exam table, understanding flickering in her eyes.

Before Josephina knew what had happened, she’d relayed every humiliating detail, starting with letting Wilson talk her out of seeing Letty before she died, right through the mile-high fiasco, and ending at the showdown with a golf club and pink teddy. And she didn’t even cry once.

Charlotte moved to a locked cabinet, only to return with another needle. This one bigger.

“I stole them.” Josephina studied the ceiling. “The golf clubs. The ones Wilson used to polish weekly.”

“That a girl. You might feel a little—”

“Ow!”

“—pinch. So, a tool belt?” Charlotte went on as if she hadn’t just stuck a horse-sized needle through Josephina’s foot. “Does this mean you’re becoming a real Georgia Peach?”

“Yup. I’m reopening the inn,” she said, adding the cost of one chandelier to the already overwhelming estimate. She was hoping that Mr. Ryan would come back with an approved small business loan, but either way she wasn’t leaving. She was going to turn that crumbling money-pit into the best thing that ever happened to this town—and to her.

Charlotte slapped a bandage on her foot. “Your aunt Letty was as stubborn as they come, determined to keep that house open even when the county tried to shut her down for not being up to code. Those friends of hers rallied and took on the county, making sure Fairchild House was a functioning inn all the way up until the day she passed. She’d be proud that you’re reopening it, so don’t let those biddies get to you. They’re just seeing what you’re made of.”

Charlotte’s words made her smile. Made the stress of securing money and patching the roof fade away, because making Letty proud was as important to her as making her dream a reality. Especially since she seemed to let down every other member of her family by opening her mouth.

The doctor studied her for a long moment. Or maybe a short moment. It was hard to tell when everything felt so good. Even her hair felt shiny.

“You know what you need?”

“A gun?”

“Well, you are in Confederate country.” Josephina waited for her to laugh. She didn’t. “No, I think what you need is some good old-fashioned rebound sex.”

Josephina felt woozy again. The last thing she needed was a man. Especially when the man that popped into her head was a known player and heartbreaker. “Sex would complicate everything.”

“If it’s complicated you’re doing it wrong. Look, I’m not saying fall in love. You don’t even have to like the guy. What I’m talking about is a wild, no-strings romp in the hay. Good Lord, did I just say that? My mama would be horrified.” Charlotte looked excited at the idea, and Josephina was quickly coming to like her. “What better way to get your life back than to remind yourself that sex is fun? That being a woman is fun?”

“I was thinking more of girl talk and alcohol.” Lots of alcohol.

Charlotte clapped her hands together, a smile crossing her face. “Honey, I happen to know where you can find all three. Although I can’t do tomorrow night or Thursday night. Actually my whole weekend is booked working on my platform for the Peaches. Elections are coming up and there is no way Darleen Vander, bless her vengeful little heart, is going to win the VP seat this year. I do, however, have next Monday off. You and me, we’re going hunting.”