Love, Lies and Texas Dips Read Free

“sturdy.” Not to mention the fact that she had no manners at all. Laura was known throughout Pine Forest Prep for saying precisely what she thought without thinking first, and often ended up with her hefty size-eleven foot in her mouth. They might both be trust fund babies, but that was all they had in common. Well, except that they were both blondes and their mothers were good pals … and, unfortunately, Laura had also been picked by the Glass Slipper Club to be one of ten Pine Forest Prep senior girls in this season’s debutante class.
    Though Jo Lynn was bound and determined to see Miss Ding-Dong Bell booted out of the Rosebuds on her “sturdy” ass. Jo had already played an ace—or what she’d assumed was an ace—when she’d anonymously messengered a photo of a drunk and disrobed Laura Bell to every woman on the GSC’s debutante selection committee. Astoundingly, that trick had backfired, leaving Jo Lynn with no choice but to try something else—which reminded her that she had some work to do on her “Get Laura Drop-Kicked from the Rosebuds” project before Dillon’s family barbecue this afternoon. It was Labor Day after all, wasn’t it? Only this bit of labor would be fun.
    She turned on her iPhone and found a new text message. She paused on the flagstone path that led around the pool tothe main house, went to her SMS screen, and read Camie Lindell’s note. Her friend was obviously curious about how things had gone with Jo and Dillon.
    So??? Whassup with U and Big D?
    Jo smiled and texted back: He just left.
    Camie’s reply bounced back like she’d been sitting on her cell, waiting for Jo to respond. No way!!!
    Way! Jo tapped into the keypad. And I’ll C him L8R at his BBQ. I so heart him!
    You suck! I’ll B hanging out with Trish while U have real fun. We’re going 2 the country club 4 yoga, lunch & mani-pedis. Spill All when U get back!!!
    Jo answered: U know I will.
    My BFFs will have to do without me today , Jo mused as she slipped her phone into her back pocket and strode across the flagstone walkway through the manicured lawn. Though she was usually too preoccupied to admire the pretty acre in Houston’s pricey Piney Point Village upon which sat the home her daddy had custom built before she was born, she took it in now. Tall pines soared heavenward and enclosed the property, hugging close to its borders like giant guardians, keeping the Bidwells safely separated from the rest of the world. Graceful cypresses dripped Spanish moss; fluffy asparagus ferns flourished; and the hibiscus, oleander, and Mexican honeysuckle still bloomed wildly in early September. Sago palms looked like verdant umbrellas, while velvet-leaved princess flower bushes still bore a few dark purple blooms.
    Jo inhaled deeply, the sweet mix of scents so pervasive on the humid air that she could almost taste them.
    Today , she decided then and there, will be absolutely perfect. Nothing and no one can ruin it .
    Having the day off from school after two weeks back at good ol’ all-girls Pine Forest Prep rocked, particularly since it meant she’d be spending the afternoon with Dillon. Even though she wished they were doing something alone and not having to play nice with Dillon’s parents, plus most of the Caldwell Academy football team. Still, Jo Lynn kind of enjoyed being Dillon’s arm candy, and he seemed to like showing her off to the other guys, as if he’d won a big prize that they’d never get.
    Texas men were kind of possessive that way, even the well-bred ones who’d been reared in River Oaks or the Memorial Villages with silvers spoons in their mouths and Gucci saddles beneath their butts (if they rode at all). For sure, Dillon Masters was no redneck. He didn’t like to hunt, for one, and he didn’t do chaw, wear Lucchese boots day in and day out, or drive a pickup—with or without a gun rack—with that omnipresent bumper sticker that read: DON’T MESS WITH TEXAS.
    Not that Jo Lynn didn’t appreciate the