Red-Hot Texas Nights Read Free Page A

passing through too many hands at this point. There needs to be one person overseeing everything at each step.”
    â€œAnd you think Kenny Roy is your person? The guy who wore Crocs to the last VFW dance?”
    She shrugged. “Not everyone likes to dance.”
    â€œNot everyone spends half his time stoned out of his mind to the point that he can’t dance. Kenny Roy is an idiot. A sky-high idiot.”
    â€œExactly, which is why I’m going to ask the name of his connection and follow the trail straight to the source.”
    â€œThat’s an even worse idea than talking to Kenny. You don’t know these guys.” Ellie slid Brandy a sideways glance. “What if they’re dangerous?”
    A question she’d asked herself a thousand times during the drive over. But she’d never been one to back down when she wanted something, and she wanted this.
    She needed it.
    And she needed it by next Friday.
    Brandy shrugged. “They’re businessmen and I’m going to make them a business proposition. They let me watch the entire process and I let them have all the spoils with the exception of one jar.” Her gaze met Ellie’s. “I need to make sure that I’m really on to something, that the first time wasn’t just a fluke, before I take this any farther. If the second batch is just as good as the first, then I’ll have something solid to present to the distiller.”
    Something that was sure to pay off.
    She reached for the door handle.
    Ellie’s hand stopped her. “I don’t know about this.”
    â€œI’ll be careful. I promise. Besides, we probably know the guys involved.”
    â€œEven worse. We’re not supposed to know who they are.”
    â€œIt’s a small town. I’m sure everyone knows who they are. We’re probably the exception.” Because Brandy had always been the exception. She’d kept her nose clean back in high school, her focus fixated on the future. On perfecting her brownies and her cookies and her cakes. She’d ignored everything else, from the Friday-night parties to the romantic gossip, to who punched who during the occasional lunchroom brawl. She’d never paid attention to the stuff going on around her, or the people.
    Not that it had helped.
    She’d still managed to snag herself a reputation. One that had started back in the fifth grade when she’d started to develop well before all of the other girls. By the seventh grade, she’d been a full C cup. And by high school? She’d filled out a D and then some.
    She’d been every boy’s fantasy, and every girl’s enemy. The boys had chased after her and while she’d never let any of them catch her, it hadn’t mattered. They’d talked anyway. And spread rumors. People believed what they wanted to believe, and they’d wanted desperately to think that curvy, voluptuous Brandy Tucker was handing it out left and right.
    The truth—that she’d been a naive virgin—hadn’t mattered in the least.
    At first she’d tried to convince them otherwise. She’d dressed conservatively and kept the boys at arm’s length. All but one.
    One handsome, sexy, charming-as-all-get-out cowboy who’d taken her virginity and made her realize that she was every bit the bad girl that everyone thought.
    Not that she’d been ready to fly her crazy flag for the entire world to see.
    Not then and not now.
    She still walked the walk and talked the talk, denying her lustful nature to the world and playing the good girl.
    Most of the time.
    She tamped down the sudden memory of a hot mouth at her throat and strong hands roaming her body and concentrated on climbing out of the old car that had once belonged to her parents.
    Brandy had shared the car with her sisters until her grandpa had passed away. Then Callie had started driving his old truck, Jenna had landed an internship with a local vet that came