by Carly Bloom
And their privacy was sacrosanct.
She touched the glass with her fingers. These were her people. And this was her town, where everything predictably happened the same as it had the day before. So why did she always feel as if she were on the other side of the glass?
Her muscles tensed as she thought about the job in Austin. Was she nervous? Or excited? Both, maybe.
“Who’s volunteering today?” Janie asked.
Alice blinked and tried to think. “I’m not sure, actually,” she said, unlocking the door.
A white Ford Escort pulled into the library’s parking lot. A bumper sticker proclaimed you can follow the crowd. i’ll follow jesus! “Never mind. It’s Miss Mills. And she just arrived, so make sure your vices are all tucked in.”
Janie laughed. “I no longer bother with tucking anything in.”
Alice went to the desk, and Miss Mills entered a short time later.
“Good morning, ladies. Did you hear about Brittany?”
“Sure did,” Alice said. “Such a shame. I hope she’s all healed up in time for the big day.”
“If you ask me, this was the Lord’s way of telling that girl to slow down.”
Alice doubted that. “You can get started on the drop box books, Miss Mills. We had quite a few returns overnight.”
Miss Mills fanned her face and sat down behind the circulation desk. “Maybe in a minute. Let me catch my breath first.”
Miss Mills was a big fan of catching her breath. She reached into her enormous bag and pulled out a copy of Breaking the Cowboy. “I’ve got some catching up to do on my book.”
“Ooh, that one looks steamy,” Janie said. “Is it good?”
“It’s not my cup of tea, but I’ll read it—minus the racy parts—because it’s the type of book Alice keeps choosing for book club.”
Alice smirked. Miss Mills read every page, especially the racy parts. “Nobody came to book club regularly until we switched to romance.”
“I did,” Miss Mills said. “Religiously.”
Alice had struggled for years to promote the book club. She’d tried choosing classics for back-to-school season. She’d tried horror at Halloween. Mysteries. Suspense. Nothing had built interest. But when she chose a romance novel—Boom! Six women showed up. And they’d been showing up ever since.
Romance was a huge genre with an inexhaustible number of themes and tropes to explore. There was literally something for everyone, and who didn’t love a happy ending?
Their book club conversations might not be as sophisticated as the Self-Partnered Women meetings she attended in Austin, but they were always entertaining. More importantly, what was discussed in book club stayed in book club. And sometimes, they even talked about the book.
“Here comes our first patron of the day,” Janie said. “A white Rancho Cañada Verde pickup just parked outside.”
“It’s Monday,” Miss Mills said. “It must be one of the Montgomery boys coming to get their grandmother’s books.”
Alice nearly dropped the stack of books she’d just picked up. Hopefully, it was Bryce. Because she didn’t really want to see Beau’s chest saunter in. Dang it! She meant she didn’t want to see Beau saunter in, with or without his chest. He was super annoying. He always loitered about, looking at books and mindlessly flirting with Janie and the volunteers. Heck, he would flirt with a tree stump if he happened to trip over it.
He did not flirt with Alice. And that was just fine. Why would she want him to? And what did flirting even mean? Besides, when you said it five times in a row, it started to sound weird. Flirt, flirt, flirt, flirt, flirt.
The door opened, and she was awash in irritation. Her Beau-dar had gone off, making her skin flush and her pulse pound.
“Alice, are you okay?” Miss Mills asked. “You’re too young for a hot flash.”
Asking Allie Cat Martin to tutor him in reading under the best of circumstances would be utterly humiliating. But doing it after she’d stood in his doorway lecturing him about noise ordinances while he was half naked was downright unbearable.
She’d probably say no, and then what was he going to do?
Deep down, Beau didn’t really believe he could overcome dyslexia. He was an adult. Didn’t that mean that his neural pathways were already set in stone? No matter. He had to try, because if he lost his job as foreman of Rancho Cañada Verde because he couldn’t accurately use the new software program or analyze reports or correctly fill out forms . . . Well, he’d fucking die. The job and the ranch were his life.
He inhaled deeply while staring at the bulletin board by the door. It always smelled good in the library. Even though he didn’t like to read them, he couldn’t pretend he didn’t like the smell of books. Also, he was procrastinating. Postponing the inevitable. And that wasn’t going to get him anywhere. So, he squared his shoulders and cracked his neck. This was going to be awkward.
The first person to greet him was Miss Mills. “Good morning, Bryce. Are you out running errands for your grandmother?”
Alice snorted from behind the counter. Probably because she knew he wasn’t Bryce.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, not bothering to correct Miss Mills. Between the two of them, he’d rather be Bryce anyway.
Alice came around the counter. “I haven’t gathered her books yet.”
She consulted a list as she went about collecting books from the stacks. “Her usual cozy mystery series,” she said, snatching a book. “And she asked for something inspirational, so let’s see . . .”
Alice put a finger to her lip, wrinkled her brow, and stared at a table of books marked new. She wasn’t wearing cutoffs today, but she still looked pretty damn cute in a swirly kind of skirt with bright colors and a little white blouse. The skirt was knee-length, but thanks to the cutoffs, Beau knew exactly what her thighs looked like. Toned. Fit. Smooth. Longer than you’d expect.
Having apparently made a decision, Alice nodded her head once, bouncing her ponytail, and grabbed a hardcover off the table. “And she asked for a romance . . .”
There was always a romance novel in Nonnie’s stack. Beau shook his head and grinned as Alice marched around behind the counter.
“This one will do,” she said, picking up a book with a shirtless man on the cover. “We’re reading it for book club.”
“Not proud of it,” Miss Mills said. “But I don’t make the rules.”
“Oh?” Beau said. “Who picks out the dirty books?”
He knew the answer, but he enjoyed the way Alice turned her little nose up and raised a single eyebrow before saying, “I object to the word dirty in regard to literature and sexuality. And I choose the books. Good ones.”
Beau looked at the book. “That might be a matter of opinion.”
He pretended to read the back of the book while watching Alice out of the corner of his eye. He’d love to rile her up to foot-stomping mode.
“Well, you’re welcome to read it and form one. You can even join us at book club,” Alice said.
“Goodness,” Miss Mills said. “I’m not about to discuss a book where a man gets spanked like there’s no tomorrow if Bryce Montgomery is in the room.”
Holy shit.
“I thought you didn’t read those parts,” Alice said with a grin. “Also, that’s Beau.”
“Oh, sorry,” Miss Mills said. “And if I don’t at least skim those parts, how will I know to skip them?”
Typically, Beau would take that as a cue to try to get a rise out of Miss Mills, which wasn’t hard, but he was here on a mission. And it was making him nervous.
Alice gave him a once-over that reminded him of the way she’d stared at his chest when he’d answered the door at the Village Chateau. Then she briskly began scanning Nonnie’s books. “Hot outside? You’re sweating.”
He yanked on his shirt collar. “It’s a bit warm.”
How was he supposed to ask Alice for help right on the heels of a conversation involving Miss Mills and spanking? Especially when Miss Mills and Janie wer
e both within earshot.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Beau Montgomery,” Alice said.
Why did his heart speed up like he was being called into the principal’s office? “About what?”
“You’re on the schedule for Cowboy Story Time next month.”
“I am?”
She handed him Nonnie’s bag of books, and then slid a piece of paper across the desk, tapping it with her finger. “Yep. It’s your turn to read to the kiddos.”
Beau looked at the Cowboy Story Time schedule. The library held the event once a month, and cowboys from local ranches showed up in full cowboy attire to read picture books to kids. Alice said it gave folks pride in their community.
“Okay, well, I’ll be here then.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Pardon?”
She leaned over the counter, giving him a quick peek at a lacy pink bra. He averted his eyes, because Allie Cat definitely wasn’t flashing him on purpose.
“I know it’s not you,” she whispered.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Allie,” he said with all the innocence he could muster, even though he knew Alice could tell him and Bryce apart.
“It’s Bryce,” she said. “He’s the one who comes in here and reads when it’s supposed to be you.”
Beau could read a picture book with no trouble at all . . . if he was by himself. Doing it in front of an audience, even if they were drooling and picking their noses, was another story entirely.
“Not that I’m admitting to anything, but why would it matter if Bryce took my turn? Maybe he enjoys it.”
That might be a stretch.
“I guess it doesn’t matter at all. I just wonder what it says about a man when he can’t be bothered to read a book to children on a Saturday morning.”
Well, it didn’t say what she thought it said. That was for damn sure.
She thinks you’re an asshole.
“Goodbye,” she said, dismissing him. “I guess I’ll see you”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“at Cowboy Story Time.”
He took the bag of books, the story time schedule, and once again slunk away from Alice Martin with his tail between his legs. Just like he had on New Year’s Eve all those years ago.
Chapter
Seven
The Corner Café was hopping. And it had been hopping steadily since early morning. However, things would wind down by midafternoon. It mostly drew a lunch crowd.
Sally Larson was behind the lunch counter, where she’d been since she and her husband bought the place thirty-nine years ago. “Hey there, Alice. Do you need a menu today? The specials are on the board.”
Alice knew the weekly specials by heart. “No thanks, Sally.”
There was a vacant booth in the back corner, and Alice headed for it, although she stopped constantly to acknowledge greetings and answer questions.
Did your folks get off okay?
I lost a library book. Can I just give you some cash?
Did you hear about Brittany?
By the time Alice plopped down in the bench seat, Carmen had walked through the door in electric blue pleather pants and a tight white T-shirt—sleeves rolled up to show off the ink. An excited murmur traveled through the café. Folks in Big Verde would never get used to being in the presence of a bona fide celebrity chef.
Carmen performed the part well with a red-carpet strut that was part runway model and part Captain Jack Sparrow. As soon as she sat down, Sally rushed over with a menu.
“I’ll just have the special, Sally,” Carmen said. “Whatever it is, I know it’ll be good.”
Carmen ate at the Corner Café every time she came to Big Verde, and Sally floated on air for an entire week after.
“Yes, ma’am,” Sally replied formally. Because Carmen’s celebrity status trumped the fact that Sally was her elder. “And would you care for iced sweet tea? It’s freshly made.”
“Sounds divine,” Carmen said.
Sally smiled and hurried off as Carmen fixed her eyes on Alice. “Have you asked Beau out yet?”
Alice rolled her eyes. “We’ve been over this.”
“Yep. And you couldn’t give me one good reason why you shouldn’t ask him.”
“I gave you plenty. What I couldn’t give you was one good reason why he’d say yes, even if I wanted to ask him. Which I don’t.”
Carmen held up a finger. “Reason number one is that you’re super cute. Reason number two is that you’re funny—”
“Ha! Since when?”
“It’s not always intentional, but believe me, you’re extremely entertaining. Reason number three—”
Sally set their tea on the table. “I’ll be right back with your soup and sandwiches.”
As soon as she walked off, Alice said, “No more reasons, please. I’m not going to ask Beau. It would be weird.”
“Why?” Carmen asked, bringing the glass of tea to her lips.
“For one thing, I used to be his babysitter.”
Carmen did a spit take, spraying tea across the table. “Oh my God! How is it that you’ve withheld this juicy nugget from me? Like, are you fucking kidding me?”
Alice looked around. A few people were glancing their way, but most were trying very hard to act normal. “I’m only about four years older than him. It wouldn’t be that scandalous. Not that I’m going to ask him.”
“It’s not the age difference. It’s the circumstances. Totally adorable. Also hot and slightly porny.”
Alice put a finger to her lips. “Shh, Carmen.”
“How was he as a kid?”
“A hellion spawned from demon seed.”
“And Bryce?”
“An angelic partner in crime.”
“Now you have to ask Beau out. I mean, do it for me, would you?”
Sally set their lunch in front of them. And then she lingered, wringing her hands and nervously waiting for Carmen to try it.
Carmen inhaled the steamy aroma of the soup. “Split pea,” she said with a dreamy smile. Because nothing made Carmen happier than food. “Do I smell tarragon?”
“Yes,” Sally said, eyes glowing with excitement.
Carmen put her napkin in her lap and dipped her spoon into the soup. She took a sip and closed her eyes, swallowing slowly. “Oh, Sally. This is scrumptious.”
Sally looked like she might collapse. “Do you really think so?”
“I do. Have you tried adding fennel? With the tarragon, it would be . . .” Carmen brought her fingers to her lips and performed a classic Italian chef’s kiss.
“I’m not sure I can find fennel at the Tex Best Grocer.”
“You could do bok choy instead.”
Sally shook her head.
“Belgian endive?”
Sally’s face went blank.
“Celery!” Carmen said, snapping her fingers. “That will do just fine.”
“Celery!” Sally screeched. “Yes! I have that. I can do celery. Yes, yes, thank you, Carmen.”
Sally backed up with what could only be described as a series of small bows, until she bumped into Bubba. “What the heck, Mom?”
“Sorry, honey.”
Bubba waved at Alice and Carmen before giving his mom a kiss and following her to the register. He was probably picking up sack lunches for his construction crew. He did that most days.
Alice looked at Carmen, who had now moved on to chowing down on the chicken salad sandwich. “You are such a kind soul.”
“Who, me?” Carmen said, wiping her mouth on her napkin. “Every word was sincere. I don’t think Sally knows what a great cook she is. And anyway, the folks of Big Verde are the ones who are kind. They’ve been nothing but welcoming to me whenever I come to town. Even if they do stare at my blue hair.”
“They secretly love your hair. Lisa’s Locks now stocks a very similar shade.”
Carmen beamed and looked around the café. “I can’t even imagine what it must feel like to belong here,” she said. “I wa
s an army brat and never stayed in one place for too long.”
Alice took a bite of her sandwich. It was the same thing she ate nearly every Monday, but Carmen was right. It was delicious. “That’s kind of funny, because I’ve never really felt like I belong.”
“Seriously? But you know everybody. And you do all the things with all the people. You go to the weddings. You go with Claire and Maggie to Tony’s honky-tonk—”
“Actually, the honky-tonking is a pretty recent development. I’d never been until Claire invited me. It was on the day the library was demolished after the flood, and I’d desperately needed a pick-me-up.”
The flooding of the town and rebuilding of the library had definitely brought her closer to folks.
“I love Tony’s,” Carmen said. “We should go while I’m in town.”
“That sounds fun.”
“So, you really don’t feel like you belong here? How come?”
Alice toyed with a potato chip on her plate. “I moved away from Big Verde with my parents just before first grade, and I didn’t come back until the middle of eighth.”
“Why did you move?”
“My dad was accepted to medical school in Houston. It’s where I went to school. My junior high was huge, with a debate team and a literary club—”
Carmen snorted. “How’s the literary club in Big Verde?”
“Nonexistent. But I hear they have a debate team at the high school now. And of course, the library has its book club. Anyway, I didn’t really spend my formative years here. I’ve always wondered if maybe that’s why I don’t fit in.”
“My mind is blown,” Carmen said. “I would have thought you were everybody’s hometown girl.”
Alice laughed. “That would be Claire. And she was my best friend in kindergarten. But by the time we moved back, everyone had changed. You know how it is at that age. Claire had emerged from her cocoon with big boobs and naturally wavy hair and clear skin, and I had emerged from mine with braces, glasses, acne, and a training bra bought just for the hell of it.”
Carmen laughed. “See? You’re funny.”
Alice had never shared any of this with anyone, because she feared hurting their feelings. But she didn’t have to worry about that with Carmen. “Everyone already had their friends. Their cliques. And even though I’m technically related to half the folks in town, I didn’t really know them, and I kind of hovered on the perimeter. I finally stuck my head in a book and left it there until I graduated from high school.”