Must Love Cowboys: This steamy and heart-warming cowboy rom-com is a must-read! (Once Upon A Time In Texas)

by Carly Bloom

  “I’ve got to run and do like a million and one things,” Brittany said. “Don’t forget about the bachelorette party!”

  “Bachelorette party?”

  “You’re invited since you’re a bridesmaid. There are going to be strippers. Woot!”

  Crap. Strippers always gravitated to Alice at these types of events. Claire said the mortified expression on her face was irresistible to them.

  “Yay,” Alice said, swallowing a lump of dread. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Okay,” Brittany said, giving her a hug. “You’re the best. Oh, and I already told the other bridesmaids that they can just call you Alice.”

  “What else would they call me?”

  “Well, usually they refer to you as Miss Martin because you’re so much older than us.”

  Claire made a noise that sounded like an old man choking on a chicken bone.

  “Yes, I much prefer they just call me Alice. I’m not a card-carrying member of AARP yet.”

  “You’re kind of a cougar, though,” Brittany said. She formed her hands into claws and made a growling sound.

  This was too much for Claire, who had moved past the chicken bone noise to general goose-honking.

  “Well, I’m off,” Brittany said. “I can see myself out.”

  As soon as Brittany had limped away, Alice turned her back to Claire. “Get me out of this thing.”

  “Okeydokey, Miss Martin. And then maybe you should take a little nap so you can keep up with that young whippersnapper you’re dating.”

  Chapter

  Twenty-Seven

  Beau put his bag in the corner of the room and hung his cowboy costume on the back of the closet door. Then he looked around.

  The rooms at the Rockin’ H were really nice, even if they were a little over the top with the cowhide theme. Normally he’d be in the employee quarters or the bunkhouse. But since he hoped to spend some private time with Alice—it might be their last weekend together—he’d gone ahead and booked the room.

  He and Bryce had gone into town for supper. They’d waited for a table for forty-five minutes at a crowded steak place where the entire staff came out to sing “Happy Birthday” every three minutes. It was so noisy they could barely have a conversation, and the steaks were tough. But Bryce hadn’t seemed to mind (well, he’d bitched about the steaks) and had even suggested taking in a movie before heading back to the ranch. But Beau had begged off. He had some work to do on his laptop, and also, he’d gotten the fourth Jax Angle book and was dying to get after it. He’d been following Alice’s suggestion to alternate reading with listening, and damn if the reading wasn’t actually getting a whole lot easier. He might try to forgo the listening altogether for the fifth book.

  He stretched and cracked his neck as he opened up his laptop. The ranch program icon stared up at him, and he felt the familiar surge of agitation at the sight of it. But then he heard Alice’s voice, calm and reassuring, in his head.

  Just click on it—I promise it won’t bite.

  He clicked on it, and then he opened the folder he’d brought with him. It had all the tag numbers of the cattle they’d hauled in from Big Verde. He was surprised by how easily he was able to identify the spreadsheet for the Rockin’ H. But there it was, and it was as clear as a bell.

  Rancho Cañada Verde looked very different from Rockin’ H, but he didn’t even have to rely on the tricks he and Alice had devised. Because he was actually reading it. And he could hear the words in his head, which was something he’d never been able to do before.

  It was kind of cool the way the program automatically removed the tag numbers from one database when he entered them into another. And tomorrow, when they hauled the Rockin’ H bulls to auction, he’d be able to record that into the database, as well, along with how much they weighed, how much they brought in dollars, and who had bought them. And everyone—Gerome, Ford, and Bryce—could see it with a touch of a button or the swipe of a phone. Cool.

  He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. His belly was pleasantly full, and all he needed was a shower and then he was going to crawl in bed with Jax Angle.

  That sounded wrong. He still couldn’t wait, though.

  He closed his laptop and peeled off his shirt. Tomorrow morning would come early. This might be a dude ranch, but it was still a ranch, and Bryce would no doubt have him up at the ass crack of dawn.

  He went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, then came back out to grab a fresh pair of underwear while the water heated up. His phone battery was low, so he plugged it into the charger.

  Five minutes later he was lathered up. The soap smelled nice. Kind of fancy for a cowboy, but whatever. He ran his head under the spray to rinse the shampoo out of his hair.

  The heat eased his sore muscles, and he touched a cheek to each shoulder, loosening up some tightness there. He squeezed the taut ridge extending from his neck. Rubbing your own muscles never felt as good as when someone else did it, but he worked out some knots, anyway.

  Alice had melted at his touch when he’d rubbed her neck in the truck. She’d actually moaned, and that’s when he’d known how easy it would be to make her fall apart. And damn, had she fallen apart. He licked his lower lip as if maybe he could still actually taste her . . .

  It made him hard.

  He rolled his head and dropped his chin to his chest as trails of lather and foam cascaded down his belly and around his cock, which was now throbbing. That sucker was going to need some attention, or he’d never be able to concentrate on his book, much less get any sleep.

  He closed his eyes, thinking about Allie walking out of her bedroom in that frilly, sheer get-up. She’d looked so fucking cute. And shy. And then she’d proceeded to spread her legs and brazenly give him an anatomy lesson.

  Vulva

  Labia

  Clitoris

  Latin was hot.

  He stroked himself, long and slow, because he wanted to drag out the memory. The way she’d dipped her finger into her—

  His phone rang from the other room.

  He scrunched his eyes shut tighter, determined to ignore it. Whoever it was could leave a message. Unless it was Nonnie. He had assumed the responsibility of keeping an eye on her when his folks moved to the coast. And whenever she tried to leave him a voice mail, she talked before the beep and all he ever heard was okay, bye now, see you then, or, best of all, but don’t worry . . .

  Fuck. He turned the water off, and he and his raging boner hopped out of the shower and ran into the other room. He took a running leap for the phone; certain it was going to stop the minute he touched it.

  Without really registering who was calling, he hit the slider on the screen.

  Alice’s face popped up.

  He was on FaceTime.

  Beau looked shocked to hear from her. Maybe she shouldn’t have called. “Is this a bad time?”

  Beau’s mouth opened and closed. And his eyes were absolutely huge, as if she’d just jumped out from a closet and yelled Boo!

  “Um . . .”

  There were fumbling sounds, and she got a bit dizzy as Beau moved the phone around. There was a picture on the wall, a desk, the floor . . .

  “Beau?”

  His face came back into view. “Sorry. I didn’t realize we were on FaceTime until I’d already answered.”

  He appeared somewhat calmer, but his eyes glanced around as if he were looking for something. He was shirtless. And wet.

  “You caught me getting out of the shower,” he said with a dimpled grin. “Let me grab a towel.”

  “I have the worst timing,” she said. “I hope you didn’t get out just for me.”

  A mirror came into sight, and for a brief second, Alice caught Beau’s reflection in it. And he wasn’t just shirtless. He was naked.

  Her pulse started racing. Part of it was the surprise. But the other part was the sheer perfection of those muscular butt cheeks.

  “You have perfect
timing,” Beau said, walking into the bedroom. “I’m glad you called.”

  Her eyes searched the tiny screen, just in case she’d get another mirror image of Beau’s backside, but no such luck. Beau sat on the bed and smiled, and it set her heart to thumping even more than the sight of his butt cheeks had.

  “I can call back if you want to get dressed,” Alice said.

  Beau leaned back against the headboard. “Nah. I’m good.”

  There was that twinkle. He was torturing her on purpose.

  “I have a reason for FaceTiming,” she said, as if he hadn’t just leaned back naked on a bed right in front of her.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “I want you to see what I’m wearing.” She’d put the yellow dress back on, just so he wouldn’t be shocked by her outfit when it came time for their “date.”

  Beau’s smile slipped away. “Is it crotchless?”

  Alice rolled her eyes. “No. Hold on. I’ll show you.”

  She reversed the image so Beau could see her in the full-length mirror in all her jaundiced, ruffled glory. “What do you think?” She flipped the image back so she could see his face. He was probably laughing—

  Nope. Not laughing. “Oh my God, Allie. You look so beautiful.”

  Was he joking? Because she looked like a school bus.

  “It reminds me of that princess dress you wore to Anna’s Halloween party a few years ago.”

  Oh, dear God. She’d gone as Belle from Beauty and the Beast. And he was right. Did Brittany realize that her bridesmaids’ dresses were Disney princess gowns? Also, Beau remembered what she wore to a Halloween party four years ago? They hadn’t spoken. In fact, she hadn’t even known he was there.

  “You look pretty,” Beau said. “You always look pretty. Even when you’re wearing a bloodstained dress and yelling at me about noise ordinances.”

  “It wasn’t blood. It was Carmen’s energy drink. And you and your lady friend were being totally obnoxious.”

  Beau laughed. “Allie Cat, you had the wrong room. I was all by my lonesome that night. Nobody was with me.”

  “Why didn’t you say so?”

  “Because you’d have left. I’m sorry I’ve always annoyed you so, but it’s the only way I can get your attention.”

  “You can have my attention any time you want. All you have to do is talk to me.”

  “About what? Cows?”

  “Well, sure. Or any number of things. I like talking to you, Beau.”

  A slight blush crept across his cheeks. “I like talking to you, too, Allie.”

  “You don’t have to go to any great lengths to get my attention,” she said.

  Beau grinned, and the devilish glint came back. “So, let’s say, if a cowboy wanted to get your attention, he wouldn’t have to do anything so extreme as this . . .”

  Beau’s face disappeared from the screen, and suddenly she was looking at his shoulders, dotted with water.

  “What are you—”

  And now it was his glistening chest. Had he lost control of his phone? Maybe he was resettling himself, or reaching for something, or . . .

  The phone moved lower, to Beau’s ripped abs. His hand made an appearance, lightly brushing over the delicious landscape, like a gameshow host showing off the big prize.

  Silently, Alice urged Beau’s phone to go lower, and it did. But the man was covered in a towel. What a tease!

  Beau’s face reappeared in the phone—lopsided grin—so apparently, the tour was over.

  “Do I have your attention, Miss Martin?”

  Alice nodded, because, boy, did he ever.

  “You know,” he said, with a bashful little gaze that was what Claire would call sin on a stick. “I was thinking about you in the shower.”

  “You were?”

  “Yeah. I was thinking about you real hard.”

  Real hard. Maybe he meant it had taken a lot of concentration. Maybe hard didn’t refer to an erection. Maybe she just had a dirty mind and . . . Dang it! She’d been trying really hard not to think of sex in those terms.

  “And then I was um, interrupted by my phone. So, I didn’t get to . . .” He raised his eyebrow. “Finish.”

  So, they were being dirty. And holy guacamole, dirty was fun. But was Beau admitting to masturbating in the shower? Not that there was anything wrong with masturbating or admitting to it. But he was clearly flirting. She should say something sexy back. “I hope you were able to rinse all the soap off.”

  She winced. What a stupid thing to say!

  Awkward silence, followed by a sigh. “You’re going to make me spell it out, aren’t you?”

  Actually, if Beau could spell masturbation that would be awesome.

  “H-A-R-D . . .”

  Oh. He wasn’t going to spell masturbation.

  “C-O-C-K.”

  Alice fanned her face. She was getting heated, no doubt the result of synthetic yellow fibers and the talk of a hard cock.

  “That’s what thinking about you does to me, Allie. Do you want to see it? I don’t send unsolicited dick pics. So, you’ll have to ask for it.”

  Things were crystal clear now. Which was actually how Alice preferred it. Still, she should probably try to be a little playful. “I’ve shown you mine, so yes, I think it’s your turn to show me yours.”

  Beau raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to have to do better than that. What, specifically, do you want me to show you?”

  Alice bit her lip. Beau clearly wanted her to talk dirty (there was that word again), and she wasn’t very good at it. “I want to see you,” she said. “All of you.”

  “Like, my shins? My toes? My elbow? Can you be more specific?”

  Beau was exasperating. “You know dang well what I’m talking about.”

  “I’m a little dense, darlin’.”

  “No, you’re not, Beau Montgomery. And I would like you to show me your chest, followed by your abdomen, followed by your”—she lowered her voice to a whisper—“erect penis.”

  “That’s assumptive.”

  “How?”

  “We’ve been talking so long. How do you know it’s still erect?”

  Oh no!

  Beau laughed. “I’m just kidding, Allie. I’m as hard as a rock.”

  Whew. Good. “You can show me now. I’m ready.”

  Beau smiled. “Here we go. Feel free to take screenshots if you see anything you like.”

  She wasn’t going to do that. At least she didn’t think she was.

  Beau’s face left the screen, and it was quickly replaced by the sun-kissed skin of his muscular chest, and Alice licked her lips. Slowly, the camera went lower, down to his abdomen and its clearly defined six-pack.

  Alice broke out in a light sweat. She liked to think she was attracted to men for their minds (and she was—Beau was super smart!), but she was only human. And humans were biologically and evolutionally programmed to be attracted to strong physical specimens for the perpetuation of the species. Beau was a strong physical specimen. And even though she was not interested in ever having kids, her cells twerked and shouted, This one looks good! Make babies with this one!

  She clenched her thighs. Science could be super irritating and uncomfortable. Especially when it made you want to lick someone’s skin. Which is what she wanted to do right now, because Beau looked tasty.

  White terrycloth came into view, along with Beau’s fingers, which tauntingly toyed with the knot in the towel. And even though it wouldn’t be the first time Alice had seen a penis—she could label a diagram—she’d never seen Beau’s. Not clearly anyway (underwater at the river didn’t count). And she’d certainly never seen one via FaceTime. It was playful. Sexy. Delicious.

  He pushed the towel down to below his tan line, and Alice’s mouth watered. But then he moved, and all she saw was his grinning face again. “You’ve got a bit of drool on your lower lip there, girl.”

  Alice rolled her eyes. Because she was absolutely not drooling. Much. And also, he’d called her gir
l.

  Beau laughed. “So, do you want the towel to come off?”

  Inside her head, Alice hysterically screamed Yes! But what came out of her mouth was: “If you’re comfortable with it, then I’m comfortable with it.”

  “So you’re saying . . .”

  “Drop the towel, Beau.”

  Beau’s smiled slipped away. “Yes ma’am,” he said. And then he lowered his voice and added, “I like it when you tell me what to do.”

  Beau’s chest and abdomen once again filled her screen, and then he opened the towel, revealing his very hard penis resting against his belly. It was slightly lighter in color than his tanned flesh, and maybe it was the screen’s tiny size, but it looked . . . large.

  The view tilted, and Beau’s face came into focus in the distance. “Stunned speechless?”

  “Yes, actually.”

  “Are you saying I’ve finally found something that will shut you up? And that it’s been in my pants this entire time?”

  Alice couldn’t think of a single thing to say. So apparently, the answer to his question was yes. Her eyes were glued to her phone, and his penis came back into view, along with Beau’s hand. He stroked himself. Just once.

  “Is this okay with you?” he asked. “I mean, I don’t know if you’ve ever messed around on the phone . . .”

  “Does Candy Crush count?”

  “Not even a little.”

  “Then no. I’ll have to add it to my bucket list.”

  “Do you want to see me finish what I started in the shower? Because that’s the kind of messing around I have in mind.”

  “Okay,” she squeaked.

  His hand continued stroking. And Alice watched closely, because she wanted to know just how it was done.

  “You can talk to me if you want to,” he said. “And I know you want to.”

  She did have a few questions. “Well, the glans is supposed to be the most sensitive part of the penis. So why aren’t you touching it?”

  Beau laughed. “So much for dirty talk. And I don’t usually start out touching the head of my dick. Too sensitive in the beginning.”

  That made sense. Alice couldn’t usually handle direct clitoral stimulation unless she was really aroused. “Some people are embarrassed over masturbation,” she said. “But did you know it can decrease your risk of prostate cancer?”