Texas Hustle

They’re different as night and day…but it’s the right time for love.

Texas Montgomery Mavericks
, Book 6

Porchia Summers was born into a family who gave her everything except affection. She acted out until her parents sent her to Whispering Springs before their high-society friends found out about her arrest record.

She builds a good life in Texas, but then the old boyfriend who got her in trouble tracks her down. Desperate to find a way to keep her past and present separate, she places a bid at a bachelor auction on the one man who’ll get her out of town for a few days.

Darren Montgomery is thrilled when Porchia wins him and a week of camping with his entire family in a charity bachelor auction. He’s also curious. He’s been flirting with the town’s sweet, sexy baker for years. Sometimes she flirts back, but she’s never let things go further than that. Darren’s not complaining, but he wonders just what’s going on behind Porchia’s pretty eyes.

Warning: Watch out for chigger bites, love bites, and secrets that bite.

Texas Hustle

Cynthia D’Alba

Dedication

Thank you to Porchia Gilbreath for her beta readings and for lending her first name for the book’s heroine. Also I have to give a shout out to Paula Farrell for reading the early chapters of this work. My gratitude knows no end for Delene Yochum, Tabitha Collins and Margaret Hughes (aka Book Partners in Crime) for their continued support and assistance with my book releases and parties. I seriously could not do it without you ladies. And no author has ever had a more responsive critique partner than Angela Campbell, who will drop everything to get me a fast turnaround when I need it. Finally, to my best friend in the world, my husband, whose idea it was to get into this writing biz and who continues to encourage me every day.

And I’m setting my editor, Heidi Moore, off into her own paragraph because she deserves special recognition. As usual, your edits were on target. You make me look better than I am. You push me to become a better writer. Thank you, Heidi.

Chapter One

It was still dark when Porchia Summers wheeled into the parking area behind Heavenly Delights Bakery. Her car’s headlights bounced off one other vehicle, an old, rusty Jeep that looked like it should be in a junkyard instead of her bakery’s parking lot. The Jeep’s owner, Mallory James, adored her car and took offense at any aspersions about its paint, or rather its lack thereof.

Light filtered from windows near the ceiling. While Porchia hadn’t designed the building, the construction was perfect for baking. The elevated openings were ideal to allow heat in the summer to escape. Plus, she’d gotten it at a bargain price.

She let herself in, wincing at the ear-splitting volume of the head-banging heavy-metal music blasting in the kitchen.

To her left, racks of cookies cooled. To her right, multiple ovens baked fresh muffins and pastries for the sales counter. In front of Porchia, Mallory stood with her back to the door, her hands flying as she moved fresh muffins and rolls into plastic bags for Whispering Springs’s three B&Bs and restaurants.

“Mallory. How’d last night go?”

When Mallory didn’t respond to Porchia’s shout, she picked up the remote for the portable system and lowered the volume. Mallory whirled around, hands fisted and ready for an attack. The minute she realized it was Porchia, she loosened her fists and greeted her boss with a lift of her chin.

“Morning,” Mallory muttered. “Sorry about the music. Must have lost track of time.”

“Not a problem,” Porchia said. “Everything go okay last night?”

Mallory shrugged. “Sure,” she replied in her usual understated tone.

Mallory had served as a Marine and come back from Afghanistan unable to deal with what she’d seen and the jobs she’d had to do. Working in an environment that required her to interact with people wasn’t possible. She’d approached Porchia about a job. Given that Mallory had grown up in a family that’d owned a bakery, Porchia knew she’d have been a fool to not hire her. However, Mallory’s only job stipulation was that she had to work at night. At first, Porchia hadn’t been sure how that would work. But it had turned out to be a win-win for both women. Mallory came in at midnight, did all the breads and most of the cookies, and left at seven when the rest of the bakery staff arrived. Before Mallory, Porchia had been at the bakery every day no later than four a.m. Since Mallory has started working for her, she’d had the luxury of sleeping until five most mornings, a serious bonus for her.

“Great,” Porchia said. “I’ve got a couple of things to do in the office before we open.”

She was headed toward her office when Mallory said, “Oh, the phone’s been ringing since about four.”

Porchia’s brow furrowed. “Who was it?”

“Don’t know. Didn’t answer it. Figured nobody was ordering a cake at four in the morning.”

Porchia nodded. Another one of Mallory’s idiosyncrasies. She refused to answer the bakery phone, and sometimes even her own cell.

“Well, you’ve got a point. I guess if it’s important, they’ll call back or have left a message. I’ll check.”

Mallory didn’t respond and went back to her packaging.

The bakery phone began to ring. Porchia hurried to the phone mounted on the wall to answer.

“Heavenly Delights.”

“Hello, Kat. Miss me?”

Every nerve in Porchia’s body ran blazing hot, then ice cold. A tremor shook her hand, banging the receiver against her ear.

“This is Heavenly Delights Bakery,” Porchia said. “There’s no one here by that name.”

The man on the phone laughed, a deep, haunting chuckle that sent shivers skittering down her spine. “Now, Kat. Don’t play games with me. Why, it’s been seventeen years since I’ve had the pleasure of your company.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, imitating her mother’s dressing-down-the-staff voice. “You really have a wrong number.”

It took two shaky tries to get the receiver back into its holder. Her legs wobbled like gelatin as she made her way to the office. Once there, she closed the door and leaned against it, as though that would keep her juvenile history in the past. Her lungs had seized up the minute she’d heard his voice, and they still hadn’t relaxed. Her breaths came in pants and gulps as her lungs struggled to expand.

Porchia grabbed the edge of the desk and guided herself around the side until she could collapse into the chair. She rested her forehead on the desk, but that did nothing for the swirl in her brain.

Her desk phone rang. She had to answer it. Mallory wouldn’t and none of the other staff had arrived yet. It could be a bakery order. She did have a business to run.

“Heavenly Delights.” Her voice quivered as she spoke. She cleared her throat and said again, “Heavenly Delights Bakery. May I help you?”

“Yes, you most certainly can,” the man said. “Don’t hang up on me again, Kat. I don’t have a wrong number either. You can call yourself Porchia or Mercedes or Range Rover, for all I care. Doesn’t change who you are.”

“What do you want, Slade?”

When he chuckled, Porchia felt a thousand spiders walk up her body. The worst mistake of her life had been taking a ride in the car with Slade Madden.

“So you haven’t forgotten your old friend.”

“Not hardly a friend. More like a bad memory.”

“Well, this memory just did seventeen years in jail for you. Now it’s time for you to pay your bill.”

Images came racing back at her. Beer cans rolling around on the floorboard of the backseat. A flash of red as the car ran the stop sign. Bright headlights from the oncoming car. The lurch of her body as Slade jerked the steering wheel to avoid the car. A dingy white fence just before the hood of the car slammed into it. Blood as it gushed from her legs and her face.

And all the sounds. Slade’s laughter. Her begging him to stop and let her out. The crunch of metal into wood. Her screams before, during and after the wreck. The gasping breaths of the old woman trapped under the car’s tires.

She’d lost everything that night. Her life had never been the same.

“I don’t owe you anything, Slade. You destroyed my life that night.”

“Bullshit. It was an accident. You know that. You could have testified in my defense. Hell, your old man had the right contacts to get my case tossed just like he did for his little princess. For the last seventeen years, you’ve been free to do whatever your little heart desired.”

“You’re wrong. There was nothing Dad could do.”

“Don’t give me that. He’s a judge. He knows everybody in Atlanta. He could have made some calls. Maybe I would have done a little time, like six months. Instead, my life went down the crapper. I had a full scholarship to play football and then it was on to the NFL. I could have made millions in the pros. You owe me, Kat. You and your family owe me. I figure seventeen years at, let’s say a modest sixty big, and that’s a cool mil. That should give me a new start on my life.”

“A million dollars. That’s insane. Even if I had a million bucks, and I don’t, I certainly wouldn’t give it to you. You are solely responsible for that night.”

Using her foot, she dragged the trash can closer to her. The tangy saliva tingling the back of her tongue suggested vomiting was eminent.

“Your family has the dough, and I bet your dad will do anything for his little girl. Hell, he’d never miss a measly mil. I might have been in prison, but don’t think I haven’t kept up with his success. You, on the other hand, took a while to track down. Clever girl. Thought the slight name change would cover your past. But you forgot. I’m smart. So get on the phone and rattle your dad’s piggy bank for my new start in life.”

Porchia hesitated. She hadn’t spoken to her parents since Labor Day weekend. Her relationship with them was strained at best, but she made herself see them for major holidays.

Her parents had been beyond disappointed with her actions that night. What respect they’d had for her disappeared, along with any semblance of trust. Even at fifteen, she’d known better than to get into a car with someone who’d been drinking, regardless of how popular the boy might have been. Just the first in a long line of poor decisions when it came to men, something her parents, and her conscience, never let her forget. For months afterward, they could barely look at her, speak to her. As soon as she’d been cleared of any responsibility for the accident, they’d sent her to Whispering Springs to live with her maternal grandmother, Lillian Summers, until all the talk died down.

As Porchia aged and matured and learned how the world worked, she’d come to believe they’d done what they’d thought best all those years ago, that in their minds, they were protecting her without damaging their social status. However, a scared and hurt fifteen-year-old Porchia had felt betrayed and abandoned by her parents. Two years later, when they’d asked her to come home, she’d refused, opting to remain in the loving home of her maternal grandmother and in Whispering Springs, where she’d found the joy of anonymity.

“You’re working off old intel,” she said. “Dear old Dad cut me off years ago.”

Slade was quiet for a minute. “I know you can get the money. You owe me and I want it.” His voice lost all his fake friendliness. Now it was rough and guttural and threatening.

She took a deep breath and stiffened her spine. She couldn’t let him know how scared she was of him.