Sugar's Twice as Sweet: Sugar, Georgia: Book 1 Read Online Free PDF

And who said I wasn’t local?”
    “Your accent. New York by the sound of it.” He looked at her outfit and raised a brow. “A Madison Avenue address?” She scowled. Bingo. “And it’s not creepy, it’s called being a gentleman.”
    Although, when she crossed her arms, accentuating the generous swell of her breasts, the last thing he felt was gentlemanly.
    “Now, how about you let me get on with my southern manners and load up your things?”
    He gave a tug, surprised when she tugged back. Even more surprised at his reaction to getting her all riled up. And she was plenty riled. Why he enjoyed irritating her, he couldn’t say. But when those eyes flashed his way, shooting off attitude and irritation, all of the bullshit in his life seemed kind of stupid.
    Letting her win this battle, he let go of the bag and watched her stagger a little under the added weight before walking around the truck to open the passenger door. “You coming? Or do I need to call the sheriff and tell him some crazy lady and her ferret are loitering on my property?”
    She hitched the golf bag higher in her arms, a nine-iron shifting up and out a little as if the bag was flipping him the middle finger. She looked around the miles of rolling hills and highway. “I’m on a public highway.”
    “No, ma’am,” he drawled, playing the part of the hillbilly. “This here is all McGraw land. Sign right there says so. And that means you and Toto are trespassing.”
    Rooted in the middle of the highway, reluctance and exhaustion playing across her face, she looked lost. Lost and sad and maybe a bit scared. He hadn’t noticed before, but under all that sass and primping was someone trying to hold it together.
    Brett stepped back around the truck, stopping in front of her and softening his voice. “Look, it’s hot out and will be dark soon. If that Bentley sitting in the middle of the field back there was yours, you’ve already walked a good couple of miles.” He looked at her shoes. “Which I’m betting seemed like a lot more. At least let me give you a ride back to your car. I can drop you off somewhere or go into town and get some gas and help you get her running again.”
    “She’s not out of gas,” she pointed out, as if he’d just offended her entire sex. “My cheating bastard of an ex decided to report his car stolen. It has one of those antitheft thingies. It just stopped working.”
    Which would explain the shrieking horn and flashing lights. “How did it get in the field?”
    “The alarm gave me a warning and I was driving kind of fast. Figured if he was going to screw with me he could search for it.”
    “It’s probably got a GPS. They’ll find it pretty easy.”
    “I was hoping for a pond. A deep one. Full of scum.” She shrugged, her top shifting in the process and exposing a very lacy, very pink bra strap, making him more than aware of how tight his jeans suddenly seemed. Because, well, he was a guy, and he’d been without a woman a lot longer than most people knew. “I didn’t find one.”
    “Lucky him.” Brett smiled, thinking about that strap and wondering if it matched her panties.
    “Lucky him, I didn’t drive it through the lobby of his career-making moment.” Her hands made aggressive air quotes around the last three words, adding, “And it’s bulletproof,” with more air quotes, as if that would explain away everything.
    That was his cue to walk. He didn’t do complicated. Because complicated usually came with expectations. And this woman had more expectations than her wheelie suitcase could possibly hold. Plus she was kind of crazy. Sexy as hell. But crazy nonetheless.
    Brett could almost hear Cal’s voice, not to mention the one inside his own head, reminding him how pink lace hadn’t panned out so well for him in the past. And it was obvious that this woman and her pink lace were nothing but trouble. But Brett didn’t get to where he was in life by playing it safe, not when trouble was so