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

by Carly Bloom

  Alice stood. Bubba was already clearing a table, and the one next to it could use clearing as well. She did a quick head count of the group at the door to see how many tables they’d need . . . six, seven, eight . . .

  Ugh! Her skin prickled with irritation. Beau Montgomery was holding the door open, nodding and smiling at all the church ladies like he was a freaking choirboy.

  “You okay, Alice?” Carmen asked.

  Alice crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes as Carmen followed her gaze to where Beau stood, surrounded by his silver-haired harem of senior citizens.

  “Aw,” Carmen said. “Jessica says he comes here with his grandmother nearly every Sunday. Isn’t that the sweetest thing ever?”

  “Ha!” Alice said. “Beau Montgomery is no angel, believe me.”

  “I know,” Carmen said, cheeks slightly flushed. “I hear he’s a beast in bed, and that he never sleeps with the same woman twice.”

  “Everybody in the hotel knows he’s a beast in bed,” Alice said. “It’s why we all have circles under our eyes this morning.”

  Carmen gasped. “That was Beau?”

  Alice slapped a hand over her mouth. Oops.

  Beau held his breath against the cloud of perfume fog and guided Nonnie to the hostess station, where Holly Vickers smiled brightly. “Hi, Mrs. Montgomery. That sure is some pretty turquoise you’re wearing.”

  “Thank you, dear,” Nonnie said, straightening the strand of blue beads. “It was a gift from Beau.”

  Holly raised an eyebrow at Beau. “Well, isn’t he sweet?”

  Beau returned the smile and removed his hat—white Stetson reserved for Sundays, weddings, and funerals—while watching Holly’s cheeks turn as pink as a honey-baked ham on Easter. “Hi, Holly.”

  All he’d done was say hi, but Nonnie applied pressure to the sensitive flesh of his inner arm in a way that said, Cut it out, Casanova.

  “Table for two?” Holly asked.

  “Three,” Beau said. “Bryce is joining us.”

  Holly looked into the dining room. “We’re really packed this morning. And short-staffed. You might have to wait a few minutes while we clear a table.”

  “We can head on over to the Corner Café,” Beau said to Nonnie. “I can text Bryce and let him know—”

  Nonnie shook her head. “Don’t be silly. We’re already here.”

  “It looks like a table is being cleared right now,” Holly said. “Just give us two minutes.”

  Beau followed Holly’s gaze to a corner table, where a woman in extremely short shorts leaned over to grab some plates.

  Damn. Very nice.

  “Goodness!” Nonnie said. “Is that Alice Martin?”

  Where?

  Beau scanned all the nearby tables, but saw no sign of Judgy McJudgypants. But then a perky brown ponytail caught his eye, and it was attached to the woman he’d been eyeing in the super-short shorts.

  “What is she doing clearing tables?” Nonnie asked.

  Alice turned around. The pink T-shirt was too tight and stretched across her chest, glittering with the word meow.

  Their eyes met, and Alice froze like a deer in the headlights. But after a few seconds, she seemed to decide to ignore him. She placed a tub of dishes on a cart and pushed it to the next dirty table without so much as a backward glance at him.

  Those shorts, though.

  Allie Cat had some nice, long legs.

  Beau swallowed. Apparently, he was still having conflicting and inappropriate thoughts about the babysitter.

  Chapter

  Three

  Beau held a chair out for Nonnie and took the seat across from her. They had a nice table by a window, but he couldn’t take advantage of the view. Not while there was a librarian loose in the restaurant.

  “Help yourselves to whatever you want,” Holly said, staring directly at Beau with a suggestive gaze that was probably not lost on his grandmother. “Hopefully, you’ll see something you like.”

  “I’m sure we will,” Nonnie said briskly. “There is plenty to choose from on the buffet.”

  Beau started to rise and head to the buffet bar, but his grandmother patted his hand. “We’ll wait for Bryce.”

  Beau rolled his eyes but stayed put. He looked around and spotted Alice darting in and out of tables on the other side of the dining room. She glanced up, their eyes met again, and he couldn’t help it. He smiled—nearly laughed out loud—remembering her shocked expression when he’d opened the door last night.

  “What are you grinning about?” Nonnie asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Nonnie gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him but also that she didn’t need to know everything. “I wonder why Alice Martin is clearing tables? She has a degree from a university and works at the library.”

  Actually, Alice had three degrees.

  Undergrad from Rice, and two master’s degrees from Texas Woman’s University.

  It had been hard to miss a big old photo of Alice Martin in the Big Verde News every time she’d hit a dean’s list or earned another degree. Folks acted like she was the smartest person in town, which she probably was.

  Carmen Foraccio, the blue-haired owner of the restaurant, stopped by their table. She said hello to Nonnie, and then she looked at Beau. “Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”

  She held a steaming coffeepot in her right hand, so Beau turned his cup over. “Good morning, Carmen. You’re looking chipper.”

  Carmen raised a skeptical eyebrow and poured hot coffee into his cup. “You’re either blind or being sarcastic, and I’m too hungover to care which.”

  Beau laughed. “I imagine you feel like you beat Worth Jarvis in a tequila shot contest last night.”

  Carmen’s mouth dropped open. “Is that a thing I actually did?”

  Beau nodded.

  “Hopefully that explains the fifty-dollar bill I found in my bra this morning.”

  “You literally drank the poor kid under the table.”

  Carmen set a little pitcher of cream next to his cup. “Speaking of last night, if you need any help burying the body, just let me know.”

  Alice breezed by with an armful of plates and snorted.

  Somebody had loose lips.

  “What body?” Nonnie asked, eyes wide with alarm.

  Carmen poured his grandmother a cup of coffee. “Everybody’s fine, Mrs. Montgomery. I’m just messing with your grandson.”

  Beau narrowed his eyes, hoping the conversation would end right here. Luckily, his brother walked into the restaurant. “Look,” he said. “There’s Bryce.”

  Saved by the twin.

  Nonnie accepted a kiss on the cheek from Bryce. “Carmen,” she said. “Have you recently hired some new weekend staff?”

  Carmen laughed. “I’m short on help today, so I’ve got some volunteers.”

  Ah. That explained it. Most of Chateau Bleu’s staff had been at Jessica and Casey’s wedding last night.

  “You need help?” Bryce asked, just as Beau stood up to offer.

  “No, no,” Carmen said. “Thank you for offering—I should have seen that coming—but, it’s totally under control. The group you came in with is the last wave. We’re all good. Just relax and enjoy your meal like normal people.”

  Beau sat down. “If you say so.”

  “I do. Enjoy your brunch.”

  Bryce jerked his head toward the buffet bar, and Beau responded with a nod.

  “I can see we’ve decided on the buffet,” Nonnie said.

  A few minutes later, Nonnie was daintily working her way through a pastry the size of her head while Beau and Bryce scraped their plates.

  “Going back in for round three?” Bryce asked, patting his stomach.

  Beau scooped up the last of his scrambled eggs. “I don’t think I have room. And besides, we’ve got to ride later today.”

  “Gerome has you boys working on a Sunday?” Nonnie asked.

  Beau shrugged. “Just a quick meeting.” />
  “And then we’re riding the fence lines,” Bryce added.

  They probably didn’t need to ride the fence lines. There hadn’t been any weak spots for months. But riding fence lines was enjoyable. Especially at sunset.

  Alice walked by, and Beau tried hard not to look at her.

  “Alice is not dressed very appropriately for working in a restaurant or a library,” their grandmother said.

  “Oh really?” Beau said. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  Worn spot on the left back pocket of those shorts. Small stain on the T-shirt, right above the w.

  Bryce cleared his throat, and Beau avoided eye contact. Bryce was the one person in Big Verde who knew about Beau’s prepubescent crush on Alice. Which had lingered just a bit into post-pubescence.

  What could he say? The teenage years were weird for everyone. Especially if you were fifteen years old with a raging boner for your nineteen-year-old former babysitter who was away at college, not thinking of you at all, because you were a baby, and a dumb baby, at that.

  Why can’t you pay attention like Bryce? and You’re not even trying! were messages that had played on repeat. He’d heard it from his teachers and his mother. And he’d heard it from Alice whenever babysitting had included helping them with their homework.

  By the time he was a senior, the crush had faded. Mostly. But then Alice, who’d already graduated from Rice—a year early and summa cum laude—had come home to Big Verde for the holidays. She was a grad student at TWU, and what the holy hell had made Beau think she’d want to dance with him on New Year’s Eve at the VFW hall?

  Jim Beam. He and the rest of his underage gang had been pouring it into their Cokes all night, and it had made him even cockier than usual.

  At eighteen, he’d already had more than a little experience with girls. They liked him and he liked them. But by then, Alice was a grown woman.

  It had taken courage (and cajoling from Bryce and their friends) to ask her if she wanted to dance. But he’d done it. He’d strutted over like a doofus, full of confidence he hadn’t deserved, and asked her to dance in front of his friends.

  She’d said no before reminding him of Big Verde’s eleven o’clock curfew for unattended minors. He’d started to slink off, too embarrassed to correct her (he hadn’t been a minor), when she’d grabbed his arm. For a brief moment, he’d thought she’d changed her mind. But no. She gave him a brief lecture on the dangers of underage drinking (he absolutely had been guilty of that) before offering to drive him home.

  He’d jerked his arm away, and Bryce and their buddies had howled with laughter as he crawled back with his hat in his hands and his tail between his legs.

  The server startled him out of his reverie by placing the check on the table, and in an effort to hide the blush spreading across his face, Beau grabbed it and stared at it.

  Dammit. The words blurred and vibrated and generally refused to cooperate. He squinted and reminded himself that he knew what it said, so he didn’t have to read it. They’d all had buffet plates and coffee.

  He focused on the total.

  Was that a nine or a six?

  His skin prickled, sweat dripped down his back, and his pulse sped up. Bryce leaned over to take a look, but Beau shook his head.

  Use logic. There are three people. The buffet is $21.95 per person. A nine doesn’t make sense. It has to be a six.

  He effortlessly calculated the tip for the bill, wrote it on the ticket, and handed a credit card to the server.

  Beau had been side-eyeing her all morning. Why? He hadn’t seemed upset over her knocking on his door. In fact, he’d seemed amused. Because of course he was. Everything was funny to Beau.

  Yep. Everything was just a big old hilarious joke.

  An old familiar hurt worked its way into her consciousness.

  New Year’s Eve.

  She’d been home from school for the holidays, and there was a dance at the VFW hall. Claire had been home for the holidays, too, and she’d asked Alice if she wanted to go. She and Claire hadn’t hung out in high school, but Alice had always liked her, so she’d nervously accepted.

  She was in her first year of grad school, but as she’d walked into the hall, she’d felt sixteen again. And sixteen had not been a very good year. She’d been dorky. Nerdy. On the outside looking in. All the clichés had applied.

  A band had played country music, and Claire was immediately whisked out onto the dance floor by someone they’d gone to school with. Alice had bought a beer—she’d needed something to hold—before assuming a position against the wall right between a fake tree and the American flag. A few folks smiled or said hello, but nobody stopped to talk.

  She’d spotted two identical cowboy hats among the crowd, and realized in stunned amazement that they belonged to the Montgomery twins. And boy, had they grown up.

  She’d spent five long years as the twins’ babysitter. They’d been hellions, and she’d survived countless pranks (including one that turned her skin orange), put out literal fires, and confiscated cigarettes, alcohol, and a magazine called Jugs. Their parents couldn’t leave them alone for more than ten minutes. No other babysitter ever came back a second time, but Alice survived out of sheer stubbornness and a consistent lack of anything else to do on a Saturday night. It hadn’t hurt that Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery were desperate and therefore paid her like she was the last living babysitter in Verde County, which she basically was as far as their boys were concerned.

  The twins had resented her, of course. So, she’d been pleasantly surprised when Bryce approached her at the VFW hall with a smile and an outheld hand. He’d inquired about school, and they’d made small talk for a few minutes before he wandered off, leaving her by the potted plant. Beau, on the other hand, had ignored her completely. He’d been surrounded by girls, and, like last night at Jessica and Casey’s wedding, he’d danced with every single one.

  By the end of the night, Alice had been more than ready to go home. And as the band announced the last song, the one that would usher in the New Year, Beau had sauntered over and asked her to dance. And behind him, his group of friends had been snickering and laughing.

  That would have been bad enough, but then Alice had noticed the money. The boys had been holding dollar bills.

  Beau had done it on a dare, making her the butt of his joke.

  She might have gotten a little snarky—she didn’t remember exactly what was said—and Beau had strutted off to howls of laughter.

  He’d grown up since then. But he obviously still liked to taunt her. Isn’t that what he’d been doing last night when he’d answered the door shirtless, with his jeans unbuttoned, smirking and oozing sex? He’d looked her up and down as if to say, What’s happening behind this door that’s keeping the entire hotel up is something you’ll never get.

  Which was fine.

  Because she didn’t want it.

  Her phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. She reached around to the extremely tight back pocket of Carmen’s cutoff shorts and yanked it out. It was her mother. Her parents were leaving for a month-long trip to Costa Rica today. It was the first vacation they’d taken in years, and they were probably just calling to say goodbye.

  “Hi, Mom. Are you guys headed out?”

  “Alice, we have a situation.”

  Scenarios began flashing through her mind. Had they been in a wreck? Were they at the emergency room? Maybe they’d just forgotten to unplug the coffeepot. She pulled her keys out of her pocket. “What’s wrong?”

  “We’re already halfway to the airport, and—”

  “Is it car trouble? Do you need me to come and get you?”

  “No, honey. We’re fine. But the doggie hotel called.”

  Oh great. The “doggie hotel” was where her parents usually boarded Gaston, their enormous Great Pyrenees. And he was a royal pain in the booty.

  “What did he do?”

  “Now, Alice. It isn’t always Gaston’s fault—”

  “Yes, it is.”


  “He’s being bullied.”

  “Bullied?”

  “He had a run-in with another dog. Honestly, who could get along with a Labrador?”

  “Pretty much anyone. Labradors are literally known for their cheerful dispositions.”

  “Can he stay with you? It’s only for a few weeks.”

  Alice sighed and squeezed the bridge of her nose. Gaston was huge. Spoiled. And he was a walking blizzard of hair and dander. But she didn’t want her parents’ vacation ruined.

  “Fine. But no matter how much he begs, he’s not getting into my bed.”

  Someone bumped into her, and she turned to see Beau Montgomery—eyes twinkling—putting his hat on. He’d clearly overheard that last statement. And now he was going to say something stu—

  “I’m sure there’s an ordinance against that, Allie.”

  Chapter

  Four

  Gerome Kowalski’s study in the ranch house was the official business office of Rancho Cañada Verde, even though Gerome sat behind the desk less and less. He and Miss Lilly had stepped back from running the ranch, and now their daughter, Claire, and her husband, Ford, were the ones operating things.

  Claire handled the marketing part of it, because Rancho Cañada Verde was more than just a ranch. It was also a brand, and its products were on shelves in grocery and department stores. They even had a ranch store in downtown Big Verde that sold everything from kitchenware to clothing and luggage.

  Ford managed the ranch itself, with the help of Beau and Bryce. As foremen of Rancho Cañada Verde, they’d stepped into their father’s boots. He’d been the foreman for twenty-seven years before retiring with their mom to a condo in Corpus Christi, where they spent their days fishing—bought a boat and everything—much like Gerome and Lilly spent theirs traveling around the country with a little travel trailer in tow.

  People moved on, sought new experiences. But Beau and Bryce weren’t like that. They were happy to stay right here on the ranch where they’d grown up, living in the very cabin where they’d been raised.

  Beau stared through the windshield at the Kowalskis’ big wraparound porch. How many Popsicles had he licked on those steps while his daddy and Gerome had talked business inside? Hell, he’d tried to steal his very first kiss right there beneath the windchimes.