by Carly Bloom
“So?” Alice asked. “You? Or me?”
“I’ll go first. That way I can help you out if you need it.” He headed for the bank, and as he went to pass Allie, his inner fifteen-year-old came out, giving him the idea to play a tried-and-true Texas river prank. How could Alice have the full skinny-dippingat-the-dam experience without it?
With a sideways glance at Allie, Beau faked being startled with a little jump. “What was that?” he asked.
Alice shrieked and scanned the water with eyes as big as saucers. Beau was just about to clue her in to the prank by humming the theme from Jaws—no need to drag it out too long—when, with no warning at all, Alice screamed, “Snake!” and headed straight for him.
He was pretty sure he was getting a dose of his own medicine, but water moccasins were both venomous and aggressive. “Where?”
The next thing he knew, Alice was climbing him like a tree.
“Alice—”
His face was suddenly pressed between her breasts, as she was doing her best to shimmy up to his shoulders. He somehow caught himself from tumbling over and grabbed Alice by the waist. “Whoa there, Nellie.”
Alice glanced all around, and then after a moment, Beau felt her muscles relax. “Beau?”
“Yes, darlin’?”
“I think it might have been a stick.”
Beau stifled a grin. “Confession time. I was just pulling your leg. Playing a little prank.”
Allie slid down his body until they were face-to-face, and she wasn’t smiling.
“Are you mad?” he asked.
He liked holding her this way. Especially the part where her legs were wrapped around his waist.
“No,” she said. “I don’t think I am anyway. I feel kind of—”
He lifted her a little higher, because he was in the danger zone of having his dick rub up against her ass. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, and her . . . Well, there wasn’t an inch between them.
“Weird,” she said, eyes dipping down to his lips. “I feel kind of weird.”
The world tilted. He was naked and holding Alice in his arms. And she was staring at his lips. It was a teenage fantasy, only fantasies were blurry things with soft edges.
And this felt sharp and crystal clear.
Her legs were wrapped around a naked man. Holy guacamole, how many things could she check off her bucket list in one day? Not that she would have ever thought to add this to a bucket list. Like it wasn’t even in Alice’s bucket list universe.
But maybe it should be.
Her body tingled. In fact, it tingled so much that maybe she shouldn’t even be in the water. What if she started to sizzle and spark and short out?
Very slowly, Beau let go of her, and as she drifted down, she bumped into something firm and oh! Beau’s face turned scarlet. And the heat invading her cheeks indicated they were doing the same.
Right. He was naked.
Alice stepped back immediately, and then she covered her saggy, waterlogged bra with her arms. The water was just below Beau’s hips, and his hands were cupped, hiding what she’d just felt bump against her inner thigh.
“Well, that was exciting,” Beau said.
Alice tried to reply with a casual yeah, but only a squeaky croak came out. Beau had nothing to be embarrassed about. Men often got erections at surprisingly inconvenient times, and her legs suddenly wrapping around his naked body had probably been both surprising and inconvenient.
“I’m going to get out now,” he said casually. “You might want to turn around. I’ll give a holler when I’ve got some pants on.”
Alice quickly turned.
There was splashing. There were a few muttered curses as Beau presumably stepped on sharp stones. There was rustling and then . . . a zipper.
“Okay, Allie Cat. It’s safe to turn around.”
Beau was shirtless and balancing on one leg while trying to get a wet foot into a sock. So, he was fairly occupied as Alice started for the bank, stepping gingerly on slippery rocks.
She didn’t want to slide her T-shirt over a squishy bra, so she slipped the bra off and pulled the shirt over her damp skin. Next, she stepped into the overalls, only bothering with one strap, and slid into her sandals.
It was time to get down to business. They’d come here for a tutoring session.
Beau, still shirtless but now wearing his cowboy hat, stared at the rock, acorn, and twig. He picked up the twig and replaced it with a leaf. His lips formed the word cat.
“Hey,” he said, looking up. “I think I get what you’re trying to accomplish with this.”
“Good! And I have a computer program I want you to work with that kind of does the same thing. We’re going to slowly replace those objects with letters.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Don’t tell your brain, but we’re going to trick it.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard,” Beau muttered.
Alice watched as he fiddled with the acorn. During the times he wasn’t laughing, grinning, pranking, or flexing a set of muscles, it was easier to get a glimpse of the real Beau. He was happy, but he wasn’t necessarily carefree.
School had been so easy for Bryce. It had to have made Beau’s struggle with dyslexia even harder.
His cowboy hat shaded his eyes, but they still peeked out, blue and brilliant and ringed with lashes. They traveled her body, probably taking in her clingy, damp T-shirt and the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. She quickly buckled the other strap of her overalls.
“I think we need to add an amendment to our contract,” Beau said.
“Oh?”
“Yep. Every time we have a reading lesson, we’ll add something to your bucket list.”
Today had been a blast. And she could probably count all of the blasts she’d ever had on both hands. “Okay. But I’m never going hang gliding.”
Beau laughed. “Darlin’, that makes you and me both. Open up your little book of lists, and we’ll come up with something that requires less of a death wish.”
Alice reached into her bag and took out her journal with the bucket list. She started to write skinny-dipping, but then stopped. She wrote swimming without a swimsuit instead. She hadn’t technically skinny-dipped. She wanted to add with handsome naked man, but Beau was watching.
“Have you ever counted shooting stars?” Beau asked. “I imagine it’s not as much of an adrenaline rush as hang gliding, but it’s still a righteous bucket list item.”
“I once toured the McDonald Observatory in the Davis Mountains during the Perseid meteor shower, which is—”
“I’m talking from the bed of a pickup truck. It’ll be like our own private pasture party.”
Pasture parties, like skinny-dipping at the dam, were another thing Alice had never done as a teen growing up in Big Verde. She’d heard about them on Monday mornings. This person had gotten drunk. This person had backed his truck into so-and-so’s truck, and their dads were going to kill them. This person had kissed someone’s boyfriend.
So much drama. Alice had not understood the appeal, and yet, if she were being honest, she’d always felt a bit left out.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s do it.”
She wrote down Stargazing from the bed of a pickup truck and Pasture party to her list.
“How about next weekend?” Beau asked.
“I’ve got a library board meeting on Friday. And Saturday is book club . . .”
“Don’t you ever slow down? What time does your book club end?”
“Usually around five o’clock.”
Beau’s phone chimed with a text. He squinted at the screen.
“You can make that font bigger,” she said.
“I don’t need to,” Beau said, still squinting. “It’s from Ford, and I got the general idea. He just needs me to do some stuff while Bryce is at the dude ranch next week.”
“Is he leaving already?”
“Not for good. We still don’t know when or if that will happen.” He said it casually, but
she saw the tension around his eyes. Was she getting better at reading people?
“Anyway, how about you come over on Saturday after your book club ends? We can work for a couple of hours and then head out to stargaze.”
“That sounds perfect,” Alice said. “And Beau?”
“Yes, darlin’?”
Her tummy flopped. Why did it do that every time the man said darlin’? He called everyone darlin’. It didn’t mean anything, and in fact, the women in her self-partnered group would probably object—
Oh no! She’d forgotten, but she already had plans for Saturday night after book club. The self-partnered group was meeting at a Chili’s in San Marcos at seven.
“Something wrong?” Beau asked.
Alice looked into those blue eyes. Screw Chili’s. It wasn’t on her bucket list. “No,” she said. “I was just wondering if maybe it would be helpful to let Ford, and probably Gerome, know about your dyslexia. That way, they could simply leave you a voice mail instead of a text message—”
His cheeks had turned pink again. “Maybe. But I think I’ve got a handle on it.”
Alice just nodded. She hoped that was true.
Chapter
Sixteen
The book club members would be here any minute. Alice straightened the stack of napkins next to the tray of cheese and crackers on the coffee table. The teakettle whistled, and she rushed into the kitchen to make iced tea. Maggie was bringing wine, but Miss Mills didn’t drink alcohol.
She turned off the burner and poured the boiling water over the tea bags she’d dropped into her pewter pitcher. In another few minutes, she’d add sugar, ice, and cold water.
She walked back into the living room just in time to see Gaston finish off the cheese. “Gaston!”
The big doofus wagged his tail and barked.
Dang it. Luckily, the other women typically brought snacks. Nobody would starve. “You,” she said to the guilty cheese thief. “To the guest room.”
As soon as Gaston was settled in the guest room with his chew toy and a bowl of water, the doorbell rang. Alice peeked out the window to see Claire and Maggie. They were almost always the first ones to arrive.
She opened the door. Maggie held up a box of wine. “Let the festivities begin.”
Claire held a plastic container with a blue lid. “Lemon bars. I know I said I’d bring something healthy, but . . .”
“They have vitamin C,” Alice said with a grin. “Come on in.”
Just as Claire and Maggie were about to step through the door, a minivan pulled into the driveway and parked. The door opened and two juice boxes and a sippy cup fell out, followed by Trista Larson. She tossed the trash and cup back in the van just as the sliding door opened.
“Goodness,” Miss Mills said, holding the sippy cup. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Sorry,” Trista said. “I forgot you were back there. Why didn’t you just sit in the front seat?”
“I don’t trust the air bags in foreign-made vehicles,” Miss Mills said, huffing to get a leg out of the van.
Just as she’d finally extricated herself from the van, a stack of papers fluttered out on the wind.
“Oh no!” Trista said. “Grab those, Miss Mills. They’re Sammie’s homework!”
“Dear Lord,” Miss Mills said, grabbing for a sheet of paper and missing it.
Alice, Maggie, and Claire ran to help. Alice managed to step on a sheet of paper, while Maggie jumped after the airborne ones. Claire chased a page across the yard and then pounced, triumphantly impaling it with her stiletto heel.
“Woo-hoo! Teamwork!” Maggie said, carrying four sheets of paper to Trista.
Alice handed hers over, as did Claire. “Sorry about the hole.”
Beep! Beep! A bright red Porsche pulled up.
“Yay! I didn’t know Carmen was coming,” Maggie said.
“She’s in town for another couple of weeks,” Alice said. “I thought it would be nice to include her.”
Claire clapped her hands. “Great idea. She’s so fun.”
A silver Lexus pulled up and parked behind the Porsche. “And there’s Anna,” Alice said.
Nobody cheered, but Alice plastered on a smile. It was true that Anna was Big Verde’s version of Nellie Oleson. She was snooty, entitled, and generally unpleasant to be around. But she’d chaired the successful Boots and Ball Gowns gala that had allowed the library to be rebuilt after the flood. Alice would be forever grateful.
Carmen, decked out in peacock harem pants and a silky turquoise tank, held up a platter. “Fried brie!”
Everyone cheered, because it wasn’t every day that a celebrity chef brought her restaurant’s signature appetizer to book club.
Anna cut in front of Carmen and held a plastic container over her head. “Cheese puffs. My grandmother’s recipe.”
The Lexus’s passenger door opened, and a sparkly orthopedic boot popped out. “Oh, dear!” Alice said. “Anna, you left Brittany in the car!”
“I had my hands full. And anyway, she cried the whole way here. I needed a break.”
Alice and Maggie rushed over to help Brittany. Her face was red and her eyes were swollen. “What on earth is wrong?” Maggie asked. “Other than your stress fracture right before your wedding, I mean.”
“The caterer’s food truck blew up,” Brittany said. “My wedding is in two weeks, and I don’t have a caterer.”
“Oh, dear,” Alice said, helping Brittany limp to the front door. “I’m sure you can find another one.”
“No!” Brittany wailed. “Not at this late date!”
Everyone filed into the house, murmuring and fawning over Brittany.
“The wedding is in two weeks?” Carmen asked.
“Yes. Everything is ruined.”
“I’ll do it,” Carmen said. “I’ll cater the wedding.”
“Really?” Brittany asked.
Carmen nodded, and Brittany took a flying leap at her, dropping her crutches with a loud clatter. “Thank you! You’ve saved my wedding.”
Alice was confused. “I didn’t know you’d still be here two weeks from now. Jessica and Casey will be back from their honeymoon. Won’t you be heading out to film the next season of Funky Fusions?”
“I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure,” Carmen said, blowing a strand of Brittany’s hair out of her face. “But the show has been canceled. And even though I know it’s going to kill you guys, I really don’t want to talk about it.”
Everyone stood there, biting back overwhelming urges to comfort and spout useless platitudes.
“I’m sorry your show was canceled,” Brittany said, taking a step back. “Can I still tell people that a celebrity chef is catering my wedding?”
“I’ve got another few weeks before I’m officially a has-been, so I vote yes,” Carmen said.
“Are you going to be looking for a new venture?” Claire asked, eyes sparkling. “Maybe a shiny new project?”
“Absolutely,” Carmen said.
Claire winked. “We’ll talk later, then.”
“I’m intrigued,” Carmen said. “But I guess right now we talk about books? I’ve never been in a book club before, and I hope I don’t get kicked out for not having read the book.”
Everyone settled around Alice’s living room with their snacks and beverages, and Maggie patted Carmen on the shoulder. “No worries. I didn’t read it, either.”
“I only read the dirty parts,” Claire said.
Trista shrugged. “I read half of it.”
Miss Mills pulled out her copy of Breaking the Cowboy. “I read the entire book, except for the racy parts.”
“Seeing as how I only read the racy parts, together we have read the entire thing,” Claire said.
Brittany looked at the cover of Miss Mills’s book. “Wait a minute. That’s not the book I read.”
“It’s Breaking the Cowboy,” Miss Mills said. “Didn’t you get your copy?”
“No. I read The Bridal Wave, which is
the first book in the quintuplet wedding series.”
“That’s next month’s book,” Alice said.
Brittany sighed, leaned back, and plopped her booted foot up on Alice’s coffee table with a loud clunk. She held a hand out to Anna. “Cheese puff me.”
Claire also snagged a cheese puff. “My contribution to the discussion will be somewhat limited. But the sex scene with the ropes was super-hot. I might have read it out loud to Ford, and he might have liked it.”
“Ooh,” Maggie chimed in. “I got that far. And it was Travis’s favorite scene, too.”
“Goodness!” Miss Mills said. “You let your husbands read romance novels?”
“Travis loves them. They spice up our love life.”
“I have never heard of such a thing,” Miss Mills said, fanning herself with her daily devotional.
“I like this discussion,” Alice said. “I don’t think we’ve ever talked about how reading books together can bring couples closer. And I especially love that Travis and Ford don’t care about gender stereotypes in regard to their reading choices. I personally feel that romance sometimes gets a bad rap simply because it’s written primarily by and for women. And we’re in a patriarchal cul—”
Woof!
“When did you get a dog?” Maggie asked.
Woof!
Alice sighed. “It’s Gaston, my mom’s dog.”
“How does he get along with Sultana?” Maggie asked, as the cat glided exotically into the room.
Anna narrowed her eyes and made the sign of the cross.
“They’ve actually been getting along pretty well,” Alice said. “I think they like each other. Anyway, as I was saying—”
Brittany raised her hand.
“Yes, Brittany?”
“Since I’ll be on my honeymoon during the next book club meeting, can I share my thoughts on Bridal Wave if I don’t give spoilers? And can I do it right now and then mentally check out?”
Alice sighed, because Brittany was definitely going to give spoilers. But she kept her expression pleasant. “Sure.”
“First of all, it is a virgin trope.”