chapter Twenty-Four
It was really no shock to Jake that the Hotter than Hell Nuts float won the Best in Parade award.
What was surprising was when the parade marshal called out the name of the Cassavechias’ business as hotterthantexasnuts.com.
“Hotterthanhellnuts.com,” he whispered to Vivian as he stood by his mother on the platform.
Vivian looked at him. “It says hotterthantexasnuts.com on this card,” she said, “and it said it on the side of the float. In huge red glittery letters.” She looked at her son. “Really, Jake. The Cassavechias wouldn’t put a curse word in their business name in our small town. We are a family town.”
He blinked, glancing at Sugar as she and Lucy and Maggie bounded up on the stage to accept their tiny pecan-topped, golden statuette from Vivian.
“Congratulations, ladies,” Vivian said, “you acquitted yourselves very well.”
The Cassavechias couldn’t have looked happier than if they’d won the lottery. They giggled, and people in the crowd enjoyed their enthusiasm, and Jake realized the Cassavechias always drew attention because they were just so damn happy. It wasn’t the short skirts and the tats and the bellybutton rings.
It was the smiles and the joy, and the sense of family they always carried with them.
“Congratulations,” he told Sugar in his capacity as mayor pro tem. “You changed your DBA.”
She grinned. “Your mother’s been coaching me about life in Pecan Creek. She seems to think you might be capable of fathering grandchildren if you can tie me down. She’s not putting money on it, says you’d be marrying way above your pay grade, soldier, if we ever got to that point.”
Marriage. He wouldn’t kiss her—though he wanted to so bad it was hard to choke off the urge. So it was a total shock when Sugar suddenly stood on tiptoe and gave him a fast, hardly-a-kiss-but-still-a-kiss brush on the lips, then exuberantly bounced off the stage.
His mother didn’t even look shocked. In fact, she looked pleased when the parade-goers cheered.
I’m in love with Sugar, Jake thought. I’ve been in love with her since I first laid eyes on her. It grew every time she looked at me with those huge eyes, and every time she dared me to change her, and every time she kissed me.
Bobby winked at him, probably reading the hopeless lust in his eyes as Sugar left the platform.
He didn’t even feel doomed. He just felt free.
And happy.
Lucy’s Big Reveal had Sugar just slightly nervous. Her sister had been so secretive for the past week, practically giggling with impish delight. It was the way she’d always hoped Lucy would be—carefree and joyous, and free of life’s burdens. All the hard edges were gone.
But she still had a devilish side a mile wide. And there was no telling what her sister had up her sleeve today.
Probably two hundred people thronged the front lawn, waiting to see the Sex Shack. From the window, Sugar saw Jake making his way to the front of the line.
She opened the door, her heart jumping. “Hi.”
“Hey. Can I cut to the front of the line?”
Sugar laughed. “It might be best. They might want to meet the owner of the Sex Shack.”
“My God.” Jake looked at her. “I didn’t realize it, but I’ve now got a business like the other Pillars. I finally fit into this town after all these years. I am the proud owner of the Best Little Sex Shack in Texas.”
Lucy came skidding into the foyer, throwing her arms around Jake’s neck. “You get first peek!”
“You scare the hell out of me,” he told Lucy. “In a good way.”
“Life’s no fun if you live it safe.” Lucy grinned at him, torturing him with abandon.
“What are you wearing?” Sugar asked her sister.
“Oh, this old thing?” Lucy asked in her best Southern-belle voice. A white minidress with fringe, twinkling with occasional sequins, and sky-high white heels graced Lucy’s petite frame. “The Pillars sold it to me. They were hoping I’d wear it to be their princess in the parade. But they sold it to me when I told them I had to work for the family.” Lucy smiled with delight. “It’s okay, though. They want to keep me on as a consultant, when we’re not overflowing with orders for Hotter than Texas Nuts.”
Jake turned to look at Sugar. “About that new DBA—”
“Not now. It’s time!” Sugar glanced out the window. “I think the crowd has grown.” It looked like another hundred people had shown up.
“I should have hired you to run my con a long time ago,” Jake said. “You girls could sell ice to our discerning northern neighbors.”
“Here’s Vivian.” Sugar pulled open the door. “Come on in, Vivian,” she said, helping her in past the crowd lined up on the porch. “This is the owner of the house, and the original decorator,” Sugar called out. “Five more minutes!”
“Whew,” Vivian said. “To think I worried about the effect you girls would have on our reputation. We need to bottle your karma!”
Sugar smiled. “I consider that a compliment coming from a woman who knows a little bit about survival. Maggie?”
“I’m here,” her mother said, coming around the corner. “I had to corral Paris. She’s been playing parade marshal, and it was hard as heck getting her inside. All the attention is too much for her to resist. Funny how she went from being an unwanted stray to the belle of the ball. Hello, Vivian.”
Vivian nodded. “Maggie.”
“Let’s go up,” Sugar said to her family, and together they went up the stairs, Lucy leading the way.
“Get ready,” Lucy said gleefully. “Vivian, you first.”
She flung open the door, and Vivian gasped.
“Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” she said at once, and Lucy clapped like a delighted child.
“Yes!” She jumped up and down. “What do you think?”
Vivian walked through the room, looking at each and every item, each piece of furniture, the coverings, the drapes. The robin’s egg blue walls set off a white fluffy comforter, where piles of pretty blue pillows rested in jeweled and tasseled confection. A blue-and-white carpet lay at the foot of the bed, where an off-white Louis XIV-style chaise sat, curving with inviting comfort. A dresser and armoire to match graced the room for whatever guests might want to harbor inside. A fabulous chandelier iced with thousands of crystals dripped from the ceiling, practically diamonds raining over the room with a romantic glow.
“It’s not red,” Lucy said, and for the first time, Sugar realized her sister was anxious. Jake reached for Sugar’s hand, wrapping his fingers through hers. Sugar was grateful to know he cared so much about her sister. He’d done a lot to make certain Lucy hadn’t been scarred by that strange night.
And me.
“It’s perfect,” Vivian said, turning slowly around the room, touching the items on the dresser with a wondering hand. “It’s sexy in its own way, because it’s so beautiful. I can practically see Audrey Hepburn staring in the window of Tiffany’s, dreaming of her future.” She turned to Lucy. “Thank you, my dear child. Thank you for understanding how much this house means to me and what I was trying to achieve. You have taken my design aspirations to a new level. In fact, I think you may have found your own calling.”
Lucy threw her arms around Vivian. “I hoped you’d love it! I designed this room for you.”
Vivian hugged Lucy back. “You did?”
“Of course I did!” Lucy broke free to look at her. “You know, it takes one to know one, Vivian. And you and I are survivors.”
Vivian smiled. “Yes. I believe we have that in common.”
“Good.” Lucy took her hand. “Come see the bathroom. I broke your son’s bank account with the bathtub in here, but I’m pretty sure you’ll agree it’s well worth it. And the chandelier is to die for.”
“Well,” Sugar said, looking at Jake, “I never saw those two as cohorts, but I’m so glad they are.”
He kissed Sugar’s hand. “You’re amazing. Pecan Creek will never be the same because of you.”
Sugar laughed. “Because of you. You brought us here with your smooth talk.”
He looked around the room. “I could turn this place into a bed-and-breakfast. I might even let Lucy redo the American Gigolo room. I really misfired on that one.”
Sugar stared at him. “You did that room?”
“Yeah.” He had an embarrassed smile she thought was charming. “Vivian wanted a Some Like It Hot room. But what guy didn’t dream of being Richard Gere in the American Gigolo?”
“Lucy was right.” Sugar grinned. “She said Pretty Woman would have fit the theme better than American Gigolo.”
Jake nodded. “Probably. I didn’t think about it. I wanted to be the American Gigolo, not the rich guy who got the girl.”
“Hope that changes,” Sugar said, and Jake said, “God, I hope so too.”
She smiled at him. “Let’s go let in your visitors.”
“And the reporters.”
“I’m not afraid of them.” Sugar could have twirled on air. “I don’t think I’ll ever be afraid again.”
They opened the door to find Minda, Charlotte and Dodie at the front of the line.
“We had to beat our way up here,” Charlotte said. “But we feel as the elders of Pecan Creek—”
“Pillars,” Jake said. “Elders seems so harsh for you ladies. Entrepreneurs is even better.”
“Yes.” Charlotte beamed. “As the Entrepreneurial Pillars of Pecan Creek, and Lucy’s mentor, and Vivian’s best friends, we should see first.”
“And gratis,” Jake said, and Sugar said, “Absolutely. Please come in.”
The three ladies, the Salesladies of Sex—as Jake called them—went up the stairs to claim first peek ahead of the crowd. Sugar smiled. “They’ve invited Maggie to join their church circle and their reading group.”
Jake smiled. “Maggie can handle them.”
They let the crowd in, and people streamed through the house, eager for a glimpse of the next Chicken Ranch of Texas, and Sugar just smiled.
It felt great to be home.
As the crowds gathered on the stairs, patiently waiting their turn for a look at the infamous room, Lucy appeared at the top of the staircase, dressed in her white flapper dress, Bobby German at her side.
“Sugar! Maggie!” Lucy exclaimed. “We made it! The FOB is now a rousing success!”
Jake pulled Sugar close. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think your sister and Bobby were going to give the real show.”
Sugar gasped. “What show?”
“We’re getting married!” Lucy squealed with delight and tossed a hot-pink bouquet of roses to her sister. “Free nuts for everyone!” She slid down the banister, and Bobby followed his chosen bride to thunderous applause.
Lucy threw her arms around Sugar and Maggie. “Thank you for everything you ever did for me. I know I wasn’t the easiest kid to raise, but I definitely had the blessing of you. Thank you, thank you, for everything.” She looked at Sugar. “Your turn is coming.”
Bobby nodded and pounded Jake on the back. “Your turn is coming, man. Just let it happen. Once you’ve had a Cassavechia, you won’t ever want anything else.”
“Wise words,” Jake said, and Lucy and Bobby ran out the door, tossing tiny bags of Hotter than Texas Nuts to the people waiting in line for a peek at the notorious room.
“How about it?” Jake said to Sugar.
“How about what?” Her heart jumped into her throat as she stared into his eyes.
“How about we follow in their footsteps? Feel like making a scene?”
Sugar laughed, tugging Jake to her for a kiss. “No,” she said. “I’m not a scene-making kind of girl. Couldn’t you tell by the new name on my float?”
“Why did you change it?” Jake asked, grabbing another smooch.
“Because I love you,” Sugar said. “I want to stay here and be part of your life. And our kids will be able to tell everyone their parents sell Hotter than Texas nuts, and won’t offend their teachers and friends’ parents. It seems important.”
“I see,” Jake said. “PC is damn lucky to have you here.”
“So if we follow in their footsteps,” Sugar said, “it’s going to have to be a little traditional. An elopement is Lucy’s style. I’m much more—”
“Father of the Bride. Old version.”
“Exactly.” Sugar stood on tiptoe and kissed him, getting the same enthusiastic applause Lucy had.
“That’s some room,” a reporter said as he went by. “Looks like Audrey Hepburn’s bedroom. If there was a dead body up there, he didn’t die from the décor. Probably just had a garden-variety cardiac arrest.”
Sugar smiled at Jake. “We like to tell people the poor man had a heart attack because of all the good sex going on.”
The reporter sniffed. “I don’t know about sex. But can I make a reservation? The wife would love staying in this house.”
“No reservations,” Jake said, smiling at Sugar, melting her heart. “This is a family home. But thanks for coming to Pecan Creek, the Most Honest, Proper Town in Texas.”
“There’s no story here,” the reporter said.
“Oh, there’s a story,” Jake said, “we’re just not telling.”
“No, we’re not,” Sugar agreed, laughing, and they walked outside to the pecan grove, with Paris waving her plumy tail beside them, enjoying the very good life in a small, honest town in Texas.