The Care and Feeding of an Alpha Male

by Jessica Clare

  “Um.” Beth Ann curled another long strand. “Same way you did.”

  Miranda wiggled in the seat. “Tell me everything. I’m your best friend. You know all my secrets.”

  She was pretty sure she didn’t know all of Miranda’s secrets, but this one was bound to get out. “He caught us. On one of the desks at the school. After a Halloween committee meeting.”

  Miranda gave another scandalized gasp. “Oh my God. Beth Ann! On a desk? In the school? That is so not like you!”

  For some reason, that made Beth Ann’s mouth curl up in a smile. “I know.”

  “I’m thinking he’s a bad influence on you,” Miranda said darkly. Her arms crossed over her chest.

  “I’m thinking I like that bad influence, honey,” Beth Ann said with a smile. “I like it a lot.”

  To Beth Ann’s surprise, Miranda reached backward and took Beth Ann’s free hand. She squeezed it. “I want you to be happy, girl. I’m tired of seeing you get hurt.”

  Tears pricked Beth Ann’s eyes, and she resisted the urge to drop the curling iron and hug the pants off of her best friend. “Me, too, honey. Me, too.”

  “You realize I have to tell Dane this.”

  “Oh, I know.”

  “Man, he is going to flip out. He thought you guys hated each other.”

  “We did,” Beth Ann mused. “Until we got stranded together.”

  Miranda released Beth Ann’s hand and gestured at her hair. “You keep curling. And tell me all the gory details. Well, most of the gory details. I don’t want to know the nasty stuff.”

  “You don’t want to know how big and thick his man parts are, then?” Beth Ann drawled, teasing.

  “Ugh! God no. I have to look him in the eye, you know. I don’t want to imagine anyone’s man parts but Dane’s.”

  Beth Ann told her the story of their weekend together, skipping over the details of their physical relationship. Miranda made sympathetic noises at all the rain and mud, and gasped with horror at the Louboutins being destroyed. “I loved those shoes!”

  “I didn’t,” Beth Ann said dryly. “I have two more pairs sitting in my closet that Allan gave me. You want them?”

  “Heck yes. They’re a little out of a librarian’s salary, you know.”

  “A beautician’s salary, too,” Beth Ann said with a grin.

  Miranda turned to look back at her again. “Won’t Allan be mad that you gave them to me?”

  She didn’t care if he was. “Allan—and everyone else in this town—needs to learn that he doesn’t own me.”

  Now that Miranda knew about Colt and Beth Ann, it was just a matter of time before Grant and Dane descended on him with questions.

  He’d managed to avoid both of them so far, thanks to a three-day beginner class in survival. He’d taken them deep into the woods to his favorite spot, and kept the focus on teaching them how to make fires and fish with few to no supplies. He most definitely was not thinking about Beth Ann or if Allan was harassing her. Or if Dane and Grant were trying to squeeze details from her. Or if she laid on that sad air mattress in the back of her little salon and thought about him. Did she masturbate thinking about him? Touch herself because she needed him? Or did she just go blissfully about her day?

  Brenna had called his satellite phone repeatedly, making kissy noises, so he’d turned the damn thing off so he could concentrate. But when he took his class in for their graduation, Grant was there to take their pictures, and he wore a knowing smile.

  Brenna saw him and immediately started singing a nursery rhyme under her breath. “Colt and Beth Ann sitting in a tree…F-U-C-K-I-N-G—”

  “Both of you can go to hell,” he said, as soon as the class was sent on their way.

  Brenna’s green eyes widened. “Someone’s a little touchy.”

  He should have guessed they’d be so childish about the whole damn thing. They knew Beth Ann. Had laughed and commented on how they didn’t get along. And now they were laughing and commenting about how much they were getting along.

  “Laugh it up, you two jackasses,” he said, pointing at Brenna and Grant. “Just a matter of time.”

  Grant scowled at him, while Brenna looked confused. “Matter of time for what?”

  Before you two start fucking, Colt wanted to say, but it’d drive them crazier to wonder, so he simply smiled and headed back to the main lodge to log his class records.

  Dane was sitting at their desk when he came in, feet kicked up on the desk, hands behind his head. “Just the man I wanted to see.”

  Colt ripped the log book out from under Dane’s feet. “Not you, too.”

  But Dane grinned, all boyish enthusiasm. “You’re nailing Beth Ann Williamson? She’s so sweet and proper. I didn’t take her for your type.”

  “And what is my type?” he drawled, moving to Grant’s desk and sitting down.

  Dane shrugged, turning his chair so he could continue his conversation with Colt. “Little trashy. Little easy. One fuck and gone.”

  Great. So Beth Ann wasn’t his type because she wasn’t trash? That crawled under his skin. Did not even his friends think that he deserved someone classy like her? “Just fuck off about it, man.”

  Dane looked surprised at Colt’s irritation. “I’m just trying to warn you, bro. She’s bad news. She may sleep with you now, but she’s going to run right back to Allan the moment she feels like he’s suffered enough. She can’t stay away from him. They’ve been together since high school. Remember?”

  Oh, he remembered all right. She’d been laughing and popular and completely dismissive of him back in high school. He hadn’t existed for her—her tiny world had included Allan, Allan’s friends, and her friends. Colt hadn’t even been a blip on her radar, even in a graduating class of only fifty students. He’d been a loner, kept to himself. Hadn’t touched a girl until he got in the military. Then, they’d been falling all over the uniform. He’d been nobody in Bluebonnet.

  And Allan had had everything. Fuck Allan. Colt had Beth Ann now. “She’s not going back to him.”

  Dane shrugged. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Miranda says she keeps going back to him over and over again. She hopes that Beth Ann’s kicked him for good, but I think Miranda’s worried that she’ll go back again. I’m supposed to tell you not to break Beth Ann’s heart, or my girl will come after you with a knife.” And he grinned like that was adorable.

  Colt rolled his eyes and bent low over the books. Goddamn it. He wished they’d all quit asking like he was doomed to somehow screw this up. He wasn’t aware that by dating Beth Ann, he was somehow ruining the American dream for the whole fucking town.

  Well, okay, maybe he’d known that a little. It just gave him a bit of added pleasure.

  The door to the lodge opened and Colt glanced up, then groaned.

  His younger brother, Berry, stood there. He wore a dirty T-shirt that hung from his lanky frame, and jeans that were so ripped and stained that they should have been tossed out. Unkempt, shaggy hair stuck out from under the John Deere cap on his head.

  Colt threw down the pencil in his hand. He was tired, annoyed, and the last thing he needed was one of his brothers showing up and starting shit.

  “Hey, Berry,” Dane said easily. “How you doing? Long time no see.”

  “Howdy, Dane. Good to see you here.” Berry leaned over and clapped hands with Dane, his expression easy. “I should be asking for your autograph.”

  Dane grinned. “Nah, man. It’s all good. I’m old and retired now.”

  Brenna entered a moment later, and Berry’s gaze turned to her as she sat down at her desk. She wore a short, hot pink skirt that he could have sworn she’d worn as a tube top last week, and had tied a flannel T-shirt at her waist. Her curling, crazy hair was loose around her shoulders. He was pretty sure she was wearing bunny slippers, too. Brenna was odd, but cute enough. “Grant’ll be back in a minute, guys. He’s taking a few final pictures to update the brochures.”

  “Well, hello,” Berry said, movi
ng to Brenna’s desk.

  She gave him a cheerful, oblivious smile. “Hello.”

  “I’m Berry.”

  She looked up and tilted her head, her smile confused. “Like…the flavor?”

  “It’s short for Beretta,” Dane said cheerfully. “Go on, ask what his other brother’s names are.”

  Colt gritted his teeth. “Do we really—”

  “You know Colt,” Berry said. “Got another brother named Winchester. We all call him Chester. Got a brother Marlin, and another brother named Browning.”

  Brenna gave him a confused look. “And…those are all guns?”

  “All guns,” he said proudly.

  She couldn’t stifle her giggle. “Well, that’s—um—interesting.”

  “You want to see the kind of heat I’m packin’?”

  Brenna’s face squished up in distaste.

  “Berry,” Colt barked, standing up. “Get out of here if you’re going to harass our employees.”

  Berry straightened and gave Brenna a wink that made her roll her eyes. “Actually,” he said, swaggering over to where Colt sat. “I came to see you. Dad’s looking for you.”

  “He knows where I’m at,” Colt said, voice clipped. He picked up the pencil again, trying to look busy. “I have no interest in seeing him.”

  Berry frowned, adjusting his cap. “It ain’t right that you don’t want to visit your family, Colt. Dad keeps asking about you. You should go see him.”

  “If I wanted to see him, I’d go visit,” Colt bit out. “I don’t need you coming over here to try and shame me into visiting.”

  “We’re your family.”

  He looked at Berry’s dirty clothes and ragged hair. Like he could forget where he’d come from. White-trash Waggoners. “I know,” he said in a flat voice.

  Berry scowled at him. “Asshole. The old man just wants to see you. But I guess you’re too good for everyone now.” He turned to the door.

  Colt said nothing, turning his attention back to the log sheets in front of him until the lodge door slammed shut.

  He’d known that moving back to Bluebonnet meant his family trying to get in touch with him. That didn’t mean that he had to play along.

  “What was that all about?” Brenna asked, her voice full of wonder.

  “Just family drama,” Dane said easily. “Nothing that Colt wants to talk about.”

  Damn right he didn’t.

  “Lucy, sit up straight,” Jeanette said for the third time that hour. She smiled out to the others at their table, while poor Lucy fidgeted again. Lucy wore a demure, white-ruffled dress that made her look twelve instead of seventeen, and Jeanette had made Lucy remove all earrings before they’d headed to the country club. As part of her punishment, Beth Ann had to cover all the colorful streaks in Lucy’s hair, and she was blond once more.

  Today, her father had thrown a fund-raising party for his friend, a local republican senator. The entire family was on display, including Beth Ann. The “save me” looks Lucy kept throwing in her direction were useless, considering that Beth Ann couldn’t save herself.

  “I cannot believe you are wearing white shoes after Labor Day, Beth Ann,” her mother hissed, and then gave a smiling wave to a friend that passed by their table. “What about those pretty shoes Allan gave you? It went perfectly with your pink dress.”

  Her mother had loved the Louboutins. And she was right, the pink and yellow Louboutins had matched her light pink sheath with yellow piping perfectly, but she’d given the shoes to Miranda two days ago. She’d paired the dress with white heels and a white shrug instead. “They’re white shoes, Jeanette. It’s not like I showed up barefoot.”

  Though Colt would have smiled if she had. She flushed with warmth just thinking about him. She hadn’t talked to him in three days—his latest overnight trip. She missed him. He should be coming in soon. Maybe he’d call her and they could get together.

  Or maybe he was done with her after that scene with Allan and didn’t want to bother anymore? Her heart twinged painfully at the thought. He’d invited her to sleep over tonight, but that invite had gone out days ago. What if he’d had a change of heart after being away from her for a few days? He didn’t like drama, and her life seemed to be full of it.

  “I’m so disappointed Allan won’t make it today,” Jeanette murmured to her.

  Beth Ann wasn’t. It was the only reason she’d agreed to come to the luncheon.

  “Do you know anything about that?” her mother asked, turning to her.

  Two black eyes, Beth Ann wanted to say. He won’t show his face until he looks handsome again. She knew Allan all too well.

  “I heard that one of the Waggoners trashed his face,” Lucy said slyly, and shot a look at her sister.

  Beth Ann froze, her hands squeezing her napkin in her lap.

  “Oh, those awful Waggoners.” Her mother shook her head. “The town would be better off if they all just dropped off the face of the planet.”

  Beth Ann bit her lip. Great, now she was going to have to endure this for the rest of lunch.

  “I haven’t heard a thing about this. Beth Ann, do you know what’s going on?” Her mother turned her gaze to Beth Ann.

  “Yeah, Beth Ann. You know what the deal is?” Lucy’s eyes gleamed.

  What had her rotten little sister heard? “I haven’t heard a thing,” she said innocently, and gave Lucy a hard look. If she wanted to play this game, Beth Ann had ammo, too. She raised her water glass deliberately and took a sip. “So, Lucy, honey, how is Colossus? You—”

  “I bet it’s over a woman,” her mother interrupted, and Beth Ann choked on her water. “Allan probably sold her a car that was too expensive. You know those trashy Waggoners don’t have two nickels to rub together. One of them likely got mad at all the money spent and went after him with his fists. Disgraceful.”

  God, this was unendurable.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Lucy said. “Colt’s kind of hot.”

  Great, now Lucy was baiting both of them.

  “Lucinda Janelle Williamson,” her mother scolded. “If you show up with one of those Waggoner boys, your father is going to have a heart attack.”

  Beth Ann stood up. “Gosh, look at the time. I just realized that I have a meeting with a Realtor this afternoon.”

  “A Realtor?” Her mother’s mouth fell open. “Right now?”

  “Right now,” Beth Ann confirmed. She was going to call the Realtor and insist on seeing a few apartments ASAP, just to get away from this awful mess.

  “But, honey,” Jeanette said. “You know you can stay with your father and me for as long as you need to. We know you can’t afford both an apartment and your cute little business.”

  Beth Ann’s teeth gritted. Cute?

  Lucy grinned. “Run while you can, Beth Ann. I’m out of here as soon as I graduate.”

  Her mother gave Lucy a fierce look. “What did you just say, young lady?”

  Oh, thank God for Lucy. A distraction. Beth Ann leaned in and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Gotta go. Love you. See you soon.” She moved around the table and hugged Lucy’s shoulders, too. “Thank you,” she whispered in her sister’s ear. “I owe you.”

  “I want pink streaks in my hair,” Lucy whispered back.

  Beth Ann gave her a thumbs-up and scanned the room for her father. He was deep in conversation with the congressman and wouldn’t like to be interrupted. Well, she’d catch him some other time. Pulling her keys from her purse—thank heavens she and Lucy hadn’t ridden here with their mother—Beth Ann slipped into the parking lot and pulled out her phone. She dialed the Realtor. “Hey, Georgia? It’s Beth Ann. Can we look at some apartments today?”

  “This duplex is a little on the high side of your price range, but it’s so cute that I just had to show it to you,” Georgia gushed with a smile. She waved Beth Ann forward. “Come on.”

  High end of her price range. Beth Ann stifled a sigh. Georgia was so excited to show her the houses that she couldn’t real
ly point out that she desperately needed low end rather than high end. “Of course. Hey, what about that little bungalow Miranda was renting?”

  “Snapped up right away,” Georgia said with a grin, twisting the key in the lock. “The good ones always are. Now,” she said, pushing the door open. “There’s new carpet, and brand-new countertops in the kitchen. Isn’t it cute?”

  Not really. The duplex was small—which was fine with her—but looked hard used. The backyard was overgrown, the fence falling down, and the appliances in the kitchen were from the seventies. The walls were patched over, as if rambunctious prior owners hadn’t been mindful of the drywall at all, and the new carpet was a hideous shade of yellow. The only good thing about the place was the location—five minutes from work. Bluebonnet was low on rentals, though, and she’d prefer to stay in Bluebonnet. She stepped inside, peeking in the rooms. Two small bedrooms, and a rather dim bathroom. The kitchen adjoined to the living room, and the back door was a big, cracked sliding-glass door. Her mother would have wrinkled her nose in horror. Allan would have sneered at it—it was half the size of the house they’d rented together—a pink gingerbread Victorian that was a centerpiece in town. Naturally.

  This was small and plain in comparison. But it was clean, and it’d be hers. “How much is it a month?”

  Georgia consulted her printout, and then quoted Beth Ann.

  She winced at the price. It was tight, but maybe she could up the price on her tanning bed that she’d rented, bring in a little extra. Work an extra day out of the week to bring in some cash. “Okay.”

  “And all you have to do is put down a deposit of three months’ rent up front,” Georgia said cheerfully.

  Beth Ann’s heart sank. Three months’ rent? Up front? She gave Georgia a faint smile. “What if I don’t have that?”

  Georgia frowned. “Two months’ up front might be a tough sell.”

  “I don’t have any to put up front, honey,” Beth Ann admitted, glancing around at the duplex so she wouldn’t have to look Georgia in the eye. It stung, admitting she didn’t have savings. Between the loans for her business start-up and the shop rent, she had only a few hundred in the bank. She refused to ask anyone for the money.