by Carly Bloom
“So, it’s a date?”
“Well, not a date date.”
“I know how dates end for you, Beau.”
“Think of me as her escort.”
Bryce cocked an eyebrow. “If you Google escort service, you’ll see that you’re not exactly digging yourself out of this hole.”
“Remember when you and I escorted Nonnie to the church’s Sweetheart Banquet for Valentine’s Day? It’s like that.”
Bryce crossed his arms over his chest. “If you say so.”
Alice frantically ran a lint roller over her royal blue chair and then ripped the little sticky sheet off in disgust. There was still a layer of hair on the chair, and she’d used at least six sheets already.
Woof!
“Hush,” Alice said. “Or I’ll make a rug out of you. Although maybe not, since you’re apparently going bald.”
As if she’d recognized the word bald, Sultana jumped up on the love seat, her eyes trained on Gaston’s wagging tail like she was watching a tennis match.
“Oh my God! Sully, you’re covered in dog hair, too.”
Alice used three more sticky sheets on the chair before starting on the love seat. She sniffed the room and wrinkled her nose. Dang it. It was definitely eau de hound.
She lit a lavender-scented candle while giving stinky Gaston the side-eye. Then she went into the kitchen to set out some snacks. Beau wasn’t company, but he was still a guest in her home. Chips, salsa, and a package of Oreos. They’d been Beau’s favorite when he was a kid.
She only had a few minutes to get dressed, and Gaston followed her to the bedroom, where he immediately jumped onto her bed. There was no time to fight with him, so she ignored it and slipped into a pale pink sundress and white sandals. She redid her ponytail, applied a little lip gloss, and she was done.
By the time she got back in the kitchen, it was only five minutes until Beau was supposed to arrive. She snagged the bag of Oreos, ripped into it, and ate two before she’d even realized she’d done it. Then she put the rest on a plate.
Tonight, she’d try to discover what kind of a learner Beau was. They’d do a few sample tests that would give her a better idea of which program to start with.
Dyslexia didn’t have a one-size-fits-all solution. But there was almost always a solution if you didn’t give up. Her heart ached to think of how misunderstood Beau had probably been his entire life. Heck, she’d misunderstood him. Even though Mrs. Montgomery had told her that Beau had a hard time in school, Alice had been too young and inexperienced to connect the dots. She’d been impatient and frustrated, thinking Beau was just lazy. All the acting up he’d done was typical behavior for some kids with learning disabilities. They often misbehaved as a distraction from their challenges.
Having a twin had probably been both a curse and a blessing. She thought about Cowboy Story Time. Bryce was still covering for Beau.
Woof! Woof!
Gaston ran to the back door, and two seconds later, somebody tapped on it. She hadn’t expected Beau to come through the kitchen.
She straightened her ponytail and opened the door.
Oh! It was just Dolly from next door. Ever since she’d given Alice the cat, Dolly had started doing pop-ins to check on Sultana. Alice didn’t usually mind visiting with Dolly, but she preferred some advance warning.
“Hi, Dolly. Now is not really a good—”
Woof!
Gaston ran out of the kitchen and to the front window, where he nosed the curtains open.
Woof!
Dolly looked surprised, and possibly a little incensed that someone else had the nerve to visit Alice. “Who’s here?”
“Nobody,” Alice said. “I mean, obviously it’s somebody. I’m expecting someone, actually. But it’s just a person.”
“Well, goodness,” Dolly said, marching to the front door. “Let’s let them in.”
“Oh, wait. Let me get the dog—”
Too late. Dolly opened the door, and Gaston made a run for it. He didn’t get far, though, because Beau grabbed him by the collar.
Alice ran over and wrenched Gaston’s collar from Beau’s hand. “Hi, Beau. Sorry about this. Come on in.” She pulled Gaston inside and Beau followed, but the dog broke free just as Beau shut the door. He ran straight to Beau and sniffed hysterically, especially at the boots. And then he began to hump Beau’s leg.
Alice had not anticipated the possibility of leg-humping. She’d never seen Gaston do such a thing, but then again, Gaston had never seen Beau, and on a certain level, Alice understood the reaction. “Oh God. Gaston! Stop it.”
Beau shook Gaston off. Then he looked at Alice with a shell-shocked expression. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”
“It’s not mine,” Alice said, dragging Gaston through the kitchen to the back door as Beau and Dolly followed. “My parents are on vacation for a whole month, and I’m dog sitting.”
She huffed and puffed and grunted, but Gaston had decided to sit, and it was like tugging on a boulder.
Beau opened the door and whistled. “Out, boy.”
Gaston hopped right up and ran out the door. Beau shut it behind him with a grin. “You’re not used to being around animals much, are you? You’ve got to be kind, but firm. Show them who’s boss.”
At that moment, Sultana sauntered in to gloat over Gaston’s expulsion from the premises.
“Shit,” Beau said, backing into the counter. “What the holy hell is that?”
Dolly walked through the doorway and picked up Sultana. “This is my cat.”
“Actually,” Alice said. “It’s my ca—”
“I have seen cats before,” Beau said. “That is not a cat. I don’t know where you got it, but you should take it back. Before something bad happens.”
Dolly waved him off. “She’s a rare breed.”
“Of what?” Beau asked.
Dolly narrowed her eyes. “Aren’t you a Montgomery boy?”
Beau tilted his hat. “Yes ma’am. I’m Beau.”
Dolly looked at the snacks on the table. Then she looked through the doorway into the living room where the candle was lit.
Uh-oh. Conclusions were being drawn. Incorrect conclusions.
“I guess three’s a crowd, isn’t it?” Dolly said with a huge smile, eyes darting back and forth between Alice and Beau. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.”
Yep. Definitely the incorrect conclusion. “No, Dolly. Beau and I are just—”
Beau drew in a sudden breath, big blue eyes wide and frantic.
This was his deep, dark secret.
Alice desperately tried to come up with a reason Beau Montgomery would be at her house . . . Think. Think. Think.
Suddenly, she felt the weight of Beau’s arm around her shoulder. He gave her a little squeeze, pulling her against him. And boy, oh boy. It sparked something weird. Something fizzy and electric and not entirely unpleasant that started at her toes and raced to her throat, where it tingled and prevented her from saying what she wanted to say, which was that Beau had come to work on the plumbing. Even though he wasn’t a plumber and they all knew it.
Dolly put Sultana down and went to the back door. “You kids have fun,” she said with a wink. “I’ve got to head to my Catholic Daughters meeting anyway.”
Oh no. Not the Catholic Daughters. The only bigger gossip mill in town was the Lutheran Quilting Club.
Chapter
Nine
This was awful! Dolly thought she and Beau were dating. In approximately ten minutes, the Catholic Daughters would think so, too. Alice would have to work overtime to prevent an engagement announcement from making its way to the front page of the Big Verde News.
She frowned and chewed on her lip. This was a complication she hadn’t foreseen.
Beau looked at his right leg, which was covered in white dog hair. “At least somebody was happy to see me. I think your mom’s dog found me quite charming.”
Alice rolled her eyes. “Gaston was just trying to assert his dominance over you.
Dogs do that.”
Beau laughed. “Maybe he just found me attractive. Because I’m definitely not submissive.” He leaned against the counter, crossing one boot over the other, tilting his chin, and hooking a thumb in his belt loop.
It was like watching a male peacock pop his tail feathers out at the sight of another male peacock. Alice didn’t know how a male peacock would react to the show, but she was suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. “Can I take your hat?”
Beau removed his hat and ran his hand through his dark blond hair. He and Bryce had been nearly white-headed when they were little. Their mom had said the Texas sun kept their skin tanned and their heads bleached. “Do you have a hat rack?”
“No. I don’t even have a hat. But you can put it on the table by the front door.”
Beau went to the table and put his hat down, eyes sweeping the room. They paused on Alice’s Buddha statue, yoga mat, and candles. He picked up a small bronze bowl.
Alice snatched it out of his hand. “That’s a Tibetan singing bowl.”
“It sings?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“You strike it with the mallet.”
“Why?”
“It’s relaxing.”
“To you maybe. It doesn’t sound so relaxing for the bowl. Maybe that’s why it screams.”
“It sings. And it is very relaxing.”
“You don’t look very relaxed, Allie Cat.”
She didn’t feel very relaxed. For one thing, Beau was standing so close she could smell his aftershave.
He’d worn aftershave.
“Maybe you should beat your bowl,” Beau said with a smirk.
Alice set the bowl and its mallet down exactly where it belonged. Had Beau meant that to sound dirty? Because it had. She looked at him closely—she wasn’t great at reading people.
He shrugged. “What?”
“Aren’t you bothered that Dolly thinks we’re dating?”
“Dating?”
“What else could she think?”
“Maybe she thinks we’re just hooking up.”
Alice gasped. And then she noticed that her fingers had somehow worked their way to her throat, where she would no doubt be clutching her pearls if she had any. She dropped her hands to her sides.
Beau laughed. “Relax, Allie Cat. Folks are going to think what they’re going to think. There’s not much we can do about it. And in a way, this will make it easier for the wedding, right? It won’t come totally out of left field when we show up together.”
Oh, dear God. She’d been so focused on avoiding Brittany’s uncle—and on seeing Brittany’s face when she showed up with Beau in tow—that she hadn’t even considered what literally everyone else would think. She suddenly had a sinking feeling. “Are you friends with Brittany?”
“Not really,” Beau said with his ridiculous blue eyes twinkling. “But I guess you could say we’ve met.”
“Oh. My. God.”
“What?”
“Have you gone out with Brittany? Because I swear to God, Beau. I am not showing up to the wedding on your arm if you’ve gone out with the bride.”
“Settle down.”
“Don’t ever tell a woman to settle down.”
Beau opened his mouth. Shut it. Opened it again. “Can I tell a woman to calm down?”
“That’s even worse.”
“But women are often prone to hy—”
“Don’t say it.”
“—steria”
Alice clenched her jaw. “Did you know that hysterectomies were the cure at one time for so-called hysteria? Women were punished for showing emotion by having their uteruses removed.”
“We went to a dark place pretty quickly there, Allie Cat. I was just kidding.”
“Did you date Brittany?”
“Nope. Just her cousin.”
Alice sighed in relief.
“And her aunt. But not the aunt who is the mother of the cousin. That would be weird.”
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. What had she been thinking? She’d asked the town’s biggest playboy cowboy, possibly a gigolo in chaps, to be her plus-one!
They should definitely hash out some details. The wedding was out of town. Surely, Beau wouldn’t expect them to share a hotel room. But what, exactly, did he consider the obligations of a plus-one to entail?
“Before we get started,” she said. “We need to establish some ground rules for our deal.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Alice went to her desk in the corner. “Let’s type up a contract.”
Beau laughed. “I don’t think we need anything that formal. But listen, Allie. I’m just going to come out with it. This date for the wedding? That’s all it is. I’m not looking for a girlfriend. I have no interest in relationships. You need an escort to an event. And I need some tutoring. That’s all this is.”
How dare he beat her to the I don’t do relationships line?
“Everybody knows you don’t do relationships. That’s why I asked you. Because guess what? Neither do I. Believe it or not, I have no desire for a boyfriend. Not now, and not ever. I’m happily self-partnered.”
Beau cocked an eyebrow. “Self-partnered?”
“Yep. Me and Emma Watson.”
“You’re dating someone named Emma? Why don’t you just take her to the wedding?”
“You’re exasperating.”
“Not even trying.”
“Emma Watson coined the term self-partnered. It means you’re happy being single. That you’re a whole and complete human without a partner. I’m even in a women’s group. We meet in Austin, and we talk about how to be good partners to ourselves.”
“My mom is in a women’s group. They exchange recipes and knit slippers for the residents at the old folks’ home. It’s local, and I’m sure they’d be happy to have you. It would save you a drive.”
Alice narrowed her eyes and glared at Beau, but then she saw it. The twinkle. Right there in the eyes. And the little dimple next to his mouth on the right side. “You’re teasing me.”
“You’re too easy, Allie Cat.”
“I’ve noticed, over the years, that I’m not exceptionally skilled at picking up on humor. I’m quite a literal person. So, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tease me.”
Beau seemed surprised. After a few seconds of silence, which Alice desperately wanted to fill, he said, “Nonnie says teasing is my love language, but I’ll try to rein it in.”
“Thank you.”
“And Allie, I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. I didn’t realize it was happening. So maybe I have a few blind spots, too.”
As far as Alice could tell, he was being one hundred percent sincere. Or heck, maybe he was teasing. She couldn’t tell. And that was the problem.
Beau couldn’t believe they were actually typing up a contract.
“The wedding is on June twelfth, which is five weeks away,” Alice said. “So, I think our contract should officially end at midnight the night of the wedding.”
“What if we’re still on the dance floor at one minute past midnight. Do we explode?”
Not teasing Alice was going to be harder than he’d thought.
“No. We turn into pumpkins,” Alice said with a little smile. And then she added, “We’re going to the wedding. We’re going to make an appearance at the reception. And then we’re going to get out of there.”
“Can I at least eat first?”
“If you’re quick about it.”
The alien creature Alice pretended was a cat jumped in his lap. He choked down a scream and attempted to pet it. It felt like a plucked chicken, but it started purring loudly, as if it were, indeed, a cat.
“Aw, she likes you.”
“It’s a she? What’s her name?”
“Sultana.”
“It fits.”
“Claire wanted me to call her Brazilian. But the breed originates from Canada.”
Beau tried to hold in his laughter and
failed.
“What?”
“I think Claire was making a joke.”
“About what?”
Surely, Allie knew what a Brazilian wax was, but it was probably best to let it go. The hairless cat jumped off his lap. “Are you actually going to print up that contract? If so, we’d better go ahead and sign it.”
Alice typed some more. “Hold on. I’m making it clear that my commitment to you ends when the contract expires. You should have all the tools you’ll need for your reading toolbox by then. You might not be speed-reading Homer, but you’ll have strategies in place. Our deal—all of it—ends at midnight.”
Wow. Was that possible? If so, this was the first glimmer of hope he’d felt in a long time. He was scared to fan it into a flame, because he’d been disappointed before. All the tricks they’d tried in elementary school—red plastic films over pages that were supposed to make the letters stop moving around, sight-word flash cards, phonics games—had failed. And then there’d been the testing at the tutoring center in Austin, followed by more phonics and memorization.
He swallowed. He didn’t want to stutter and stammer and struggle in front of anybody, and he especially didn’t want to do it in front of Alice.
“And just so we’re crystal clear,” Alice continued. “No sex.”
“Got it.”
Alice read the contract to him—midnight blah blah no sex blah blah—and printed it up. Then they both signed it—as if it were something that needed signing—and went back into the kitchen.
“Would you like some tea? Or hold on . . .” She went to the refrigerator and grabbed a carton of milk. “How about milk? Are Oreos still your favorite?”
“Are you seriously offering me milk and cookies?”
“Yes.”
He eyed the plate of Oreos. They were absolutely still his favorite. He grinned and reached for one.
“Still a dipper?” she asked.
Beau dunked his cookie in the milk. “Lickers are losers . . .” He looked up to see that Allie had twisted her cookie apart and was in the process of licking the filling. “Sorry.”
Alice shrugged it off. “Before we get started on our lesson, it’s very important that you understand something.”
“I said I got it, Allie. Absolutely no sex.”