by Carly Bloom
“So, what’s Travis up to tonight?” Claire asked Maggie.
“Dropping F-bombs all over Henry’s third grade math homework,” Maggie said. “And Maisy is potty training, so he’s probably also begging and bribing and singing ‘Itsy Bitsy Spider’ while she sits on the potty playing him like a finely tuned fiddle.”
Claire laughed. “I swear Rosa already has Ford wrapped around her little finger. And he loves it.”
Carmen came back to the table, followed by Tony himself. “It’s ladies’ night, and Tony is treating us to fried mushrooms!”
Tony’s was famous for its fried mushrooms.
“On the house,” Tony said, setting the mushrooms and two beers on the table.
Carmen set the other two drinks down, gave Tony a high-five, and plopped into her chair. “I fucking love this town. Now, Alice, tell us how your interview went.”
Maggie’s eyebrows disappeared into her blond bangs. “Interview?”
Claire frowned. “For, like, a job?”
Alice cleared her throat. “Please don’t tell anybody, but I interviewed for a library position in Austin.”
Instead of squealing with excitement, Maggie and Claire just stared, mouths agape. “It’s a much bigger library with a bigger staff, and”—she lowered her voice—“a bigger salary.”
“But it’s in Austin,” Maggie said.
Claire nodded. “Have you asked for a raise here? In Big Verde? Maybe—”
“It’s more than the money,” Alice said. “I’ve done all I can do here. There’s nothing else for me to achieve. There’s no way for me to advance. If I stay in Big Verde, I’ll be stuck doing the same thing forever.”
“But we thought you liked doing what you’re doing,” Claire said.
“I do. But . . .” But what?
“She doesn’t feel like she fits in here,” Carmen said.
Claire gasped. “Of course you fit in.”
Maggie, in her no-nonsense way, shrugged. “Maybe she doesn’t. What’s wrong with that? I certainly don’t. Small towns aren’t easy places for people who go against the grain. But when I decided to give folks a chance, they surprised me.” She poked Claire in the arm. “I mean, look at me now, sitting here with the former Queen Crispin of the Big Verde Apple Festival.”
“I’m not exactly known for blending in, myself,” Carmen said.
A popular Tejano song came on, and a few people whistled as Gabriel Castro and JD Mayes took to the dance floor. Claire waved at them. “JD says the folks of Big Verde have surprised them, too.”
Alice looked at their little table of misfits. “A beauty queen, a librarian, a celebrity chef, and a landscaper walk into a bar . . .”
They all laughed. “See?” Carmen said. “I told you you’re funny.”
Claire squeezed her hand. “If a job in Austin is what you want, then I hope you get it.”
Alice swallowed. She wanted the job significantly less than she had an hour ago, and that was saying something. “Thanks,” she said, fanning herself with a cocktail napkin. The air-conditioning in Tony’s was crappy.
“So, what’s Beau up to tonight?” Carmen asked brightly.
“He’s out with the boys. I haven’t seen him all week, actually. But last Saturday . . .”
Everyone leaned in.
“We made out.”
Claire squealed and clapped her hands. “I knew it! Also, what do you mean by made out?”
“You know,” Alice said. “Kissing and stuff.”
Carmen dropped her head to the table in feigned frustration. “No pressure. But you’ve only got a week before this arrangement of yours comes to an end.”
“I think you should just git ’er done,” Maggie said. “I mean, why not? Beau’s a nice guy, there are no strings attached, and I hear he knows what he’s doing where sex is concerned.”
Carmen looked over Alice’s shoulder. “This might literally be your lucky night. Because guess who just walked in?”
Alice’s Beau-dar went off. And for once, it was a rather pleasant sensation.
Like most of the cowboys in Verde County, Beau knew the layout of Tony’s like the back of his hand. He didn’t even need to let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting as he led the Rancho Cañada Verde ranch hands past the dance floor. It was Bryce’s last night, and they were going to live it up.
Molly Newsom yanked on his sleeve. “Dance with me, Beau!”
“And I’m next!” Vanessa Ramirez said.
It was ladies’ night. And normally, Beau would hit the dance floor the moment he walked through the door and stay there until it was time to go home—usually with a lady in tow. But as far as the town of Big Verde was concerned, he had a girlfriend. Also, he really didn’t feel like dancing, and even though it was Bryce’s last night in town, Beau would rather be with Alice.
He’d missed her.
“Sorry, ladies. I’m not hitting the dance floor tonight,” he said.
“Oh my God,” Vanessa said. “Is it true? You’re dating the librarian?”
Bryce slapped him on the back and laughed. “It’s true. He’s out of commission.”
Vanessa pouted, but then she smiled and grabbed Bryce’s hand. “Come on. You’ll do in a pinch.”
“I’m always picking up your slack,” Bryce said with a wink.
“It looks like quite a sacrifice.”
“Get me a beer,” Bryce hollered as he followed Vanessa onto the dance floor.
Two of the other guys also found dance partners, so Beau and Worth headed to the bar. “Let the single guys dance,” Worth said. “You and I are going to warm some barstools while our women warm our beds. And honestly, if it weren’t Bryce’s last night in Big Verde, I’d be in mine right now, snuggled up with Caroline.”
“I understand,” Beau said, surprised that he really did. And then he stopped in his tracks. A familiar brown ponytail was swinging this way and that on the other side of the bar.
The toes of his boots automatically rotated in that direction, and he forgot all about beer and Bryce and what he was doing here.
Worth grinned, following Beau’s gaze. “Oh. I see how it is.” He slapped Beau on the back. “I guess I’m on my own tonight.”
Alice looked up. And instead of wrinkling her brow, which is what she used to do whenever she saw him, her face broke out in a huge smile.
“Beau Montgomery,” Carmen said when he arrived at the table. “What are you doing at Tony’s on ladies’ night?”
“The more important question is, what is my girlfriend doing here?” Beau said, sitting next to Alice and giving her a kiss on the cheek.
“Being a lady, of course,” Maggie said with a mischievous grin.
Was it weird that none of this felt weird?
Carmen stood up. “Care for a beer?”
He’d forgotten he’d even wanted one. But before he could answer, a beer bottle appeared out of nowhere. He looked up to see Worth. “Figured you’d want one.”
The women immediately began fawning over Worth, calling him Baby, which was his rodeo name. He’d retired from bronc riding at the ripe old age of twenty-one in order to settle down and marry Caroline.
Alice, however, wasn’t fawning over the young cowboy. She was staring directly at Beau, and it damn near stopped his heart. For a moment, he thought he might have to pound on his own chest.
She leaned in. “Where on earth did you find that awful picture?”
“What awful picture?”
“The one of me when I was fourteen.”
“What was awful about it?”
Alice rolled her eyes, but what was so funny? He’d snapped that photo himself, at the ripe old age of ten, and then he’d stuck it in a birthday card that Alice had given him and Bryce for their tenth birthday. Congrats on reaching double digits, boys! It had been for them both, but Beau was the one who’d stuck it in a shoebox and kept it.
Even at ten years old, he’d known there was something special about Alice Ann Martin. She’d mad
e him laugh. Sometimes she’d made him mad. But she’d always made his heart beat like a bass drum. Just like it was doing right now.
Even if the relationship was fake, his feelings were real. And this could become a problem.
“Are you okay?” Alice asked, eyebrows drawn into a frown. “You don’t look so hot.”
“I’m fine,” he blurted, lifting his hat to wipe the sweat gathering on his forehead. “Would you like to dance?”
The last time he’d asked Allie to dance, she’d basically called him a child and sent him on his way. But he wasn’t a child anymore. He was a man, and Alice was the woman who held his heart.
Heck, she was the woman who’d always held it.
Chapter
Twenty-One
Oh God. Was he really asking her to dance? Right now? In front of everyone?
At least there were no snickering kids holding up dollar bills in the distance. Because Beau wasn’t that cocky teenager anymore. And she wasn’t the insecure girl in the photo. They were exactly what they’d been telling everyone they were: two people who enjoyed each other’s company. Why shouldn’t they share a dance?
“God, woman. You’re killing me. I can practically hear the Jeopardy! music playing. Give me your answer.”
“Are you wearing steel-toed boots?” She wasn’t really joking. Because, while she could do an adequate two-step if she concentrated, she had a feeling it would be difficult to concentrate while dancing with Beau.
Beau grinned and held out his hand. “I’m not worried about you stepping on my toes. I’m a good enough dancer for both of us.”
“And so modest,” Alice said. “Just don’t try to be fancy.”
“I don’t have to try. The fancy just leaks out naturally.”
Uh-oh. She was in trouble.
They went onto the dance floor, and Beau took her in his arms. Crisp, starched shirt. The woodsy scent of his aftershave. He placed a big warm hand at the center of her back and started moving without any fanfare at all.
Alice frantically began her silent chant (short, short, long . . . short, short, long), but holy guacamole, she hardly had to concentrate. Dancing with Beau was like gliding on ice. Were his feet even on the floor?
“Relax, darlin’. You’re awful tense.”
“Am I?”
“Do you want to lead? I feel like you’re trying to lead.”
“No. I don’t want to lead. Although, honestly, why do men always lead? Why can’t women do it?” This was a bit of patriarchal nonsense that had totally escaped her until now.
“I imagine it’s because women are typically shorter. It makes sense for the person moving forward to be the one who can see where he’s going.”
JD and Gabriel danced by, and JD, the taller of the two, was leading.
“Oh,” she said. “That makes sense.”
“But you can still be mad about it if you want.”
Alice grinned and didn’t feel mad at all.
“You ready to go for a ride?” Beau asked.
“What do you mean?”
“We’re going to do some turns.”
“Wait. I’ve never done turns before.”
“Good. You can add it to your bucket list and cross it off.”
“But I don’t know how—”
Suddenly they were turning. One turn. Two turns. Three turns. Alice’s tummy flopped. Then it flipped. She was a little dizzy, but there was a grin on her face—she could feel it—and before long, she was giggling uncontrollably. Actually, it was beyond giggling. She was laughing. And she hadn’t laughed like this since skinny-dipping in the Rio Verde.
Beau turned her into someone else. Someone fun and adventurous and—oh! He’d let go of her back and loosened his hold. “I’m going to spin you now.”
Alice gasped. “No. I don’t think—”
She was spinning! And then she was back in his arms as if nothing had happened.
“Again?” he asked. But before she could answer, she was spinning again. Spinning and giggling.
Then she was back in his arms. Closer than before. “You did that very well,” he said.
“I’m pretty sure that was you,” she said. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Must feel weird. You always seem to know what you’re doing.”
That wasn’t true, and Alice started to say so, but the song was nearly over and Beau apparently wanted to finish big, because they were turning again. Faster and faster, and then everyone was applauding. Whistles rang out. Some folks hollered a few good-natured compliments and jabs. Show her how it’s done, Beau! and Boy, you still got them two left feet!
The song ended, and Beau performed a polite bow before giving Alice one more twirl.
“That was beautiful, darlin’!” Bryce hollered, giving her a thumbs-up.
“Solid ten,” Worth shouted, holding up all ten fingers.
Alice’s heart was pounding. She was hot and sweaty. Who knew dancing could be such a workout? She didn’t think she’d ever had so much fun in her life. And to think, it wasn’t that long ago that she’d felt that she didn’t belong in a place like Tony’s. Not because she was too good for it, but because she just didn’t, well, belong. Period.
The jukebox started up again, and the lights dimmed—they did that for the slow songs. Beau pulled her close. Real close. She turned her head so that her cheek rested against his chest as if it were the most natural thing in the world. All of the other couples on the dance floor seemed to melt into each other, and seamlessly, she and Beau did the same.
The beautiful melody of a steel guitar rang out, and Alice recognized the song immediately. It was George Strait, or King George, as JD called him, singing his beautiful old classic “The Chair.”
Her breath hitched. This was the song that had been playing that night at the VFW hall. The night Beau had asked her to dance on a dare. She closed her eyes, but she could still see the boys laughing behind him, holding up dollar bills, watching to see if he’d go through with it.
Did he remember? She thought his body had tensed slightly at the first note, but maybe that was her imagination. The night had probably slipped from Beau’s memory years ago.
It was ridiculous to hold on to the hurt for so long. Especially now that she’d gotten to know Beau better. He was kind and patient and sweet. A bit of a playboy, for sure. But none of the women he’d been with spoke ill of him. Not that she knew of, anyway.
She thought of the meditative exercises she did to let go of the things that caused pain. Generally, she wasn’t especially good at it. But right now, in Beau’s arms, she had no trouble letting it go. The pain from that night floated up and away . . .
Beau led her slowly to the center of the dance floor, and it was so smooth and effortless that she forgot to do her silent chant. He let go of her hand and wrapped his arms around her waist, and without even thinking, she wrapped hers around his neck. He was so solid. So strong. Like an anchor.
The people swaying around them were like small waves on an ocean. Next to them, Malcolm Ojeda’s hand drifted down to Tina Wilson’s butt, where it slipped inside the back pocket of her rhinestone-studded jeans.
Surely, Beau wouldn’t try anything like—
His hand moved lower, and Alice’s tummy fluttered as if an entire kaleidoscope of butterflies—that’s what a group of butterflies was called—bounced around inside. She exhaled as his hand settled just above her back pocket. He didn’t try to slip his hand in, but she wouldn’t have stopped him if he had. She wanted his hands all over her. She was overcome with the same frantic need she’d felt when they’d made out in the back of his truck. Actually, need was an understatement.
She was starving. She wanted Beau to touch her in all the places she’d never been touched.
He tilted his head so that both their faces were shadowed by the brim of his Stetson, and as his warm breath brushed her cheek, he squeezed her even closer. What they were doing now could hardly be called dancing.
His
belt buckle pressed against her—right where her belly button was—and so did something else . . . Oh! Beau had an erection right out here in the middle of the dance floor. Should she put some distance between them? She didn’t want him to feel embarrassed.
He pressed himself against her.
Not embarrassed.
Her heart pounded. When had her fingers started raking his hair? And why had her chin lifted as if she wanted to kiss him right here in a flagrant display of public affection? They’d stopped moving entirely now. No more shuffling. The world had shrunk to just the two of them. Alice was frozen except for the beating of her heart, which seemed to have slowed. In fact, everything seemed to have slowed.
Beau’s lips parted, Alice rose on her toes, and then his mouth was on hers.
She was spinning again, even though they hadn’t moved an inch.
Not only had Allie not pulled away at the feel of his embarrassing amateur-hour-on-the-dance-floor boner—hadn’t had one of those since high school—she was kissing him. In front of people.
With tongue action.
This was the same song that the Baxter Brothers had so badly butchered on New Year’s Eve. He remembered it well, because it had been such a humiliating evening. But right now, while kissing the hell out of Alice Martin, the hurt he’d been carrying since that night felt just plain silly. He’d been a teenager. Why would she have wanted to dance with him? What had he been hoping would happen?
This. He’d hoped this would happen. He’d fantasized about kissing her.
It seemed so ridiculous now. This never ever in a million years would have happened then. It was happening now though. And he never wanted it to stop.
Alice broke the kiss. “You asked me to dance to this song once.” The words came out in a rush. “Do you remember?”
Jesus. She remembered the night, and she remembered the song. He hadn’t been expecting this. He swallowed a lump in his throat. Maybe she was going to apologize. He hoped not, because she didn’t need to. “How could I forget? I thought I was such a man that night.” He laughed. “Until you turned me down.”