Sugar's Twice as Sweet: Sugar, Georgia: Book 1 by Marina Adair Read Free Book Online Page A

taken to create such a beautiful home. Because behind the gilded crevices of the ceiling was where fairies lived, Aunt Letty would say. And if you looked hard enough you could see their wings flutter, spreading their magical dust.
     “What are you doing?”
    Josephina opened her eyes to find Brett’s gaze locked on her, a strange expression on his face. She realized what she must look like with her arms outstretched, palms up, eyes closed. She’d been twirling.
    There were a million intelligent and worldly explanations she could have given, and a few minutes ago she would have. But instead she smiled and said, “Trying to catch fairy dust.”
    To her surprise, Brett smiled back. Not that his smiling was all that surprising, given that it was the international calling card of womanizers everywhere. But this smile was not contrived or given for maximum impact. It was a natural curling of lips that happened when someone was experiencing joy.
    The lights flickered overhead and Josephina realized that the power was on. “Guess I’ve got electricity.”
    Brett walked down the stairs, stopping in front of her. “Running water, too. Though I’m not sure I’d drink it until it was tested.”
    “No bears?”
    “No bears.”
    “Great. Then I guess I’d better get started setting up camp.”
    “Is that your way of telling me that you’re tired of my company?”
    “Pretty much.”
    *  *  *
    Fairchild House sat on the banks of Sugar Lake, nestled among eleven acres of overgrown pecan plantation. As when she was young, her heart caught as the fading afternoon sun filtered through the wind-blown willows, casting a canopy of mottled shadows over the surface of the lake.
    The estate, equally majestic, was made up of the main house, a detached garage, five servants’ quarters, and a small wooden dock that was one storm away from sinking. Josephina’s goal was to turn the house into an inn, the servants’ quarters into private guest suites, and the dock into a place where people could check out small boats and fishing gear.
    After Brett left, she quickly unpacked and changed into work clothes. Her goal was merely to dig a path between the porch and the garage before sundown, hoping to find her aunt’s old clunker. Ten minutes in and she’d become distracted by a single yellow rose peeking out from beneath the ragweed. When Josephina had visited, she and Aunt Letty spent hours tending to her roses. Somehow being knee-deep in the dirt made her feel connected to her past and her aunt.
    Desperate to uncover the beautiful rose garden that she knew hid beneath, she’d started pulling weeds. That had been about three hours ago. The muscles in her arms and thighs burned, and she was certain she could cook bacon off her shoulder blades. Fading or not, SPF five thousand was no match for a hot Georgia sun.
    Josephina was on the losing end of a stubborn fistful of ragweed when she heard a phone ring. Standing up, she dusted her hands off and listened. It was coming from inside the house. She trudged up the steps and pushed through the screen door, the hinges squeaking on their axis, protesting a century of openings and closings.
    The ringing came from an old rotary phone, which sat on a table next to the front door. Pushing the hair out of her eyes, she picked it up and gave a tentative, “Hello?”
    The only response she got was the rustling of pearls in the background.
    Josephina closed her eyes and sighed. “Hey, Mom.”
    If this conversation went anything like the one she’d had a few days ago while driving to Georgia, she’d need a seat—and a strong shot. Which was why she picked up the phone, dragging the extra-long cord outside, and plopped down on the porch swing.
    “How was Paris?” Josephina tried again, this time forcing a smile into her voice.
    “You would know if you had bothered to come. Rosalie said you didn’t even want to stop by the house before you took off.”
    “I needed time to think.” To figure