by Carly Bloom
Bryce tried to push his way in anyway. “I’m a little early,” he said. “And Carmen said we shouldn’t arrive too soon or we’ll ruin the surprise.”
Beau held his ground. “What do you say we head to JD and Gabe’s room and pop open some beers?”
“Sure thing,” Bryce said. “And damn, brother. Do I look as good as you do?”
Beau rolled his eyes. They both looked like idiots in chaps and hats with no shirts. “Nah. I look way better, as usual.”
He started to pull the door closed behind him, but Bryce stuck his boot in it. “Hold up. I need to take a leak.”
Before Beau could stop him, Bryce was in the room. “Don’t get excited,” he said. “None of this is for you.”
“How about one of those strawberries?”
“Nope.”
Bryce turned to face him. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble here.”
Beau just kind of shrugged.
“So, when you asked me about that social construct thing. What was that in regard to?”
Had he given it away with all the excess? It didn’t matter, because he wasn’t going to discuss it. “It’s private.”
Bryce sighed. “If this is about what I think it is, you should be careful. Make sure everybody is on the same page. You don’t break hearts, remember? So, don’t hurt Alice.”
“Bryce, it’s not Alice’s heart you should be worried about. It’s mine.”
Bryce raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been crushing a long time. But once you’ve scratched an itch, you don’t tend to mess with it again, if you know what I mean.”
“It’s more than an itch. I think I’m in love.”
“Oh. Wow. Well, how does Alice feel?”
“I know she likes me a lot. But beyond that . . . Do you think she could fall for a dumbass cowboy like me?”
“You’re a damn good cowboy. And a fine man. Alice Martin would be lucky to have you. Now move out of my way, I drank a lot of iced tea with dinner.”
By the time Bryce came out of the bathroom, someone else was pounding on the door. “That must be the rest of our dance team,” Bryce said, rolling his eyes. “You ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Beau yanked the door open to a ridiculous sight. Bubba stood there wearing chaps, jeans, and a grin. Behind him were JD and Travis. And only two out of the three had the sense to look embarrassed.
“Pretty cool, huh?” Bubba said, flexing his biceps.
Beau and Bryce pulled the door—didn’t want anybody peeking in the room—just as Carmen pulled up in her fancy car, tattooed arm hanging out of the window.
“Which one of you is willing to jump out of the huge cake I just rented?”
“A cake? Are you kidding me?” Travis asked.
“I’ll do it,” Bubba said. “Do I get the first piece?”
“It’s not the kind of cake you eat, dummy,” JD said. “And anyway, you won’t fit in it.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Bubba said. “Carmen said it’s huge.”
“I’m sure there’s a label on it that says if you’ve won the Apple Festival beer belly contest five years in a row, you shouldn’t attempt to get in the damn cake,” JD said.
“Hey, I was only runner-up last year—”
“Boys!” Carmen shouted. “The cake is gigantic. Probably big enough for Bubba. And let’s be honest. Even though a couple of you look good enough to eat, everybody tells me Bubba is the best dancer in Big Verde.”
Bubba crossed his arms over his chest and grinned.
All of this was going to make Alice extremely uncomfortable. She’d squirm and blush, possibly while quoting a study of some sort or another, and Beau was going to love every minute of it.
JD squinted across the parking lot. “Oh, hell no.”
Gabriel and Ford were headed their way. And they weren’t alone. Ford carried little Rosa, Gabriel had Brianna in the backpack, and Henry pulled his sister Maisy in a wagon. “Hey!” Maisy called. “Where’s your shirts?”
Maisy couldn’t make the r sound very well, and it was fucking adorable.
“We lost them,” Travis said, bending over to pick up his kid.
Brianna looked down at JD from the baby backpack. Then she grabbed one of Gabriel’s ears and leaned around to shout in it. “Daddy lost his shirt, Papa.”
“I know,” Gabriel said, wincing. “Don’t worry. We’ll help him find it later.”
“Why are y’all here?” Travis asked. “You’re supposed to be babysitting the kids.”
“You didn’t think we were missing the show, did you?” Gabriel asked with a dimpled grin.
“This is entirely inappropriate,” Carmen said. “But I guess you can’t make anything worse than it already is. When I left the party, Brittany’s uncle was tuning his ukulele, and I just bumped into Miss Mills, who’s headed that way with her Bible. So, you might as well bring toddlers. But you’d better hurry, or you’ll miss the whole dang thing. I can tell when a party’s going to end early.”
Ford shifted Rosa from one arm to the next, but she seemed particularly taken with Bubba. She reached for him, and Bubba took her from Ford without any hesitation. With four daughters, he was no stranger to girl babies.
“You’d better cover them titties,” Ford said, nodding at Bubba’s chest. “She’s hungry.”
Alice sipped her cocktail—it had an actual cock in it, hardy har-har—and waited for her team member to pass the cucumber. They were taking turns sculpting them with pumpkin-carving tools. They each had just a few seconds to whittle before passing the cucumber on to the next person. At the end of the game, they’d compare cucumbers to see which team’s sculpture most resembled a penis. And at the end of it all, the prize would be . . . a penis-shaped flashlight! . . . to go along with the penis necklaces and the penis unicorn horn headbands.
“Alice,” Claire said. “What’s the plural form of penis? Is it peni?”
“No,” Alice said. “It’s penises.”
“I figured it might be like octopi or hippopotami,” Maggie said.
Claire gave Maggie a poke. “Stop talking and start carving.” Then she leaned over and whispered, “This party blows.”
“Oops!” Maggie said. “I just decapitated our penis.”
The young women at the next table giggled and whispered as the timer buzzed, and Maggie passed the cucumber to Alice. “Here. Fix it.”
“I heard them refer to our table as the senior citizen section,” Claire said, nodding at their competition.
“I’m a proud senior citizen,” Miss Mills said. “Alice, it looks like you’re carving the Washington Monument. Have you never seen a penis?”
Nobody knew who had invited Miss Mills, but she’d dutifully shown up and insisted on leading an opening prayer before the penis unicorn horn headbands were passed out.
Alice felt badly for the pointy penis. Maybe she could save it, but it would be hard to carve a glans into it. Maybe she’d forgo the glans entirely and try to carve the dorsal vein.
Beau’s rather large penis popped into her head—Boing!—and she momentarily forgot where she was or what she was doing. The result was another large chunk taken out of the cucumber.
“Oh my God,” Maggie said.
Alice examined it. “It’s not that bad. Maybe I can—”
“Henry is here.”
“Hi, Mama!” Henry said, running up and giving Maggie a big hug. “What’cha doing?”
Maggie gasped and ripped the penis horn off of her head. “Nothing. What are you doing here?”
“I’m only nine. It’s not like I can stay in the motel room by myself.”
Someone at the next table stood up. “Um, Brittany? More elderlies have shown up, and they’ve brought kids.”
Alice turned to see Ford and Gabriel standing at the door. Ford was carrying Rosa and pulling Maisy in a wagon, and Gabriel had Brianna in a backpack.
There was a flurry of activity as everyone began shoving penises into the
ir purses and underneath tablecloths and, in some awkward cases, sitting on them.
Brittany looked like she might start crying again, so her uncle—the same one she’d been trying to fix Alice up with—started strumming his ukulele in an attempt to soothe her.
“We’re just here for the show,” Gabriel said. “You ladies can just carry on with whatever you were doing.”
Ford swatted at the penis horn on Claire’s head and said, “And what was it you were doing?”
Claire pulled the headband off. “What the heck, Ford? Y’all are a bunch of party crashers.”
Ford shrugged and whispered, “It doesn’t look like much of a party.”
“There is no show,” Brittany said. “The strippers aren’t coming.”
Alice had been the only person at the party who wasn’t disappointed about it. She had a problem with the objectification of women or men. And also, with all the needless thrusting, she was afraid someone could get hurt.
Carmen walked onto the stage and cleared her throat. “May I have your attention? I know we’re all bitterly disappointed that the Mount ’Em Cowboys had to cancel, but I’m excited to announce that we have a plan B. So, everyone, please raise your voices and lower your expectations for the Just Buckin’ Around Boys!”
A few people clapped, but not enough to cover the sounds of Brittany crying.
Ford dragged a chair over, and he and Rosa sat next to Claire as Carmen wheeled a cake onto the stage. This generated some excitement, and when the music began and the top of the cake burst open, the women clapped and whistled with vigor.
After a small struggle, Bubba popped out, wearing a grin as big as his hat. Then, as the intro to “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy” rang out, Travis, JD, Beau, and Bryce strutted onto the stage.
Alice covered her mouth with her hand, and then she burst out laughing.
“They lost them’s shirts,” Maisy said with a tiny shrug. When she spotted Travis, she shouted, “Hi, Daddy! Daddy, over here!”
Travis smiled and made a heart sign with his hands, and the women went nuts.
“That was the sound of about twenty pairs of ovaries exploding,” Claire said.
“Yeah,” Maggie sighed. “I’m pretty sure Travis just made me pregnant again.”
“I think he might have even made me pregnant,” Miss Mills said. “And I no longer have a uterus.”
Little Brianna bounced in her backpack. “Let me out, Papa!”
Gabriel turned so that Ford could extract Brianna. She ran straight to JD, who picked her up and put her on his shoulders.
By now, all of the men were line dancing, just like they did on Saturday nights at Tony’s, only shirtless. And they were pretty dang good at it. Bubba served as their front man, wowing the crowd with his unexpectedly agile—and sexy—moves.
“Come on, Ford,” Claire said, rising. “Let’s go join them.”
“Dammit,” Ford said, following Claire with Rosa in his arms. “I thought I dodged the plan B bullet.”
Maggie and Travis followed with Henry and Maisy, leaving Alice sitting at the table with Miss Mills. Someone tapped her on the shoulder and she looked up to see Beau. In all the commotion, she hadn’t even noticed he’d left the stage. “Come on, darlin’. And you, too, Miss Mills.”
“Beau, I don’t know the steps. Believe it or not, I’ve never line danced.”
Miss Mills stood up. “Oh, heavens. I’ll teach you.”
By the time they got to the stage, everyone in the room was dancing. And with the help of Beau and Miss Mills, Alice picked up the steps quickly. She laughed and turned, hands on her hips, and belted out the ridiculous lyrics with everyone else.
She was having the time of her life. In fact, she’d been having the time of her life for the past five weeks—ever since she’d signed the contract with Beau. What if it didn’t have to end?
Chapter
Thirty-One
Alice was a ball of nerves as Beau pushed the door to his room open.
“Allie, you should know that I kind of, erm . . .”
“What?”
“Decorated.”
He flipped the light on and Alice gasped. Roses were everywhere. Along with candles, which Beau proceeded to light.
“I hope this is okay,” he said.
Okay? He hoped it was okay? She’d never seen anything so romantic in her life. It was perfect.
“I hope you don’t think I’m being too forward. If you’re not into it, we can sweep all the rose petals off the bed, blow out the candles, and eat chocolate-covered strawberries while we watch TV.”
She squinted at him. “Are you seriously worried about being too forward? You sent me a dick pic just a couple of hours ago.”
“It was technically not a dick pic. I didn’t actually let the horse out of the barn.”
Alice laughed. “I think all of this is lovely. And we’re on the same page. I want . . . Well, Beau, I want to make love.”
Beau sighed. “Thank God. Oh, and I got you something. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.” He pointed at a gorgeous silk nightgown. “I saved the receipt. I can take it back. It’s all good. Whatever you want. Like I didn’t buy it for me . . .” He started laughing. “Sorry. Can you tell I’m nervous?”
Beau was nervous?
She picked up the nightgown. And wow. “Is this silk?”
“I think so,” Beau said. “I thought it felt nice.”
This had to be expensive. Surely, he didn’t buy gifts like this for all of his lovers. None of this felt fake. Not Beau. Not the silk. And not their feelings. “It looks like a perfect fit. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Do you want to, you know, put it on?”
“Yes.”
Beau sighed and took his hat off. He’d been nervous! God, it was charming and sweet. And also unbelievably sexy.
“What you guys did for Brittany tonight was pretty special.”
Beau laughed. “Poor girl. She seemed to finally be having a good time though.”
“It was way better than a typical stripper show. And at least Brittany didn’t have to sit in the dreadful chair while some guy sweated all over her.”
There was a light sheen of sweat still covering Beau’s chest.
“So, ladies get lap dances, too? I didn’t know that. I’m not a big lap dance guy myself. If a woman is going to rub herself all over me, I’d prefer she do it because she wants to.”
“I bet plenty want to,” Alice said.
Beau grinned and didn’t deny it. “Want to sit in the chair?” He grabbed one from the little desk and set it in front of her.
“Like, for a—”
“Lap dance,” Beau said with a wink.
“From you?”
“Who else?”
Holy guacamole. She suddenly couldn’t remember a single thing she didn’t like about lap dances, and she was trying really hard. Beau leaned over and kissed her on the nose. “Why don’t you go put that fancy nightie on, darlin’? Me and this chair will be waiting for you.”
Alice made a split-second decision. “Okay.”
She went into the bathroom and slipped on the gown. Definitely silk. Definitely expensive. She turned this way and that, appreciating the way it felt on her skin, hugged her curves, and dipped low in the back. This was way better than the itchy little number with the crotchless panties.
She shook out her hair, squared her shoulders, and walked out of the bathroom.
Beau was leaning against the desk, his hand on the back of the chair. He’d put his hat back on. His thumb was hooked in the pocket of his jeans, one boot was kicked back, and boy, was he hot. He licked his bottom lip as his eyes traveled up and down her body.
“Damn, woman,” he finally said. “You just knocked the air out of me. I can hardly breathe.”
She was experiencing a similar reaction. And when Beau hit a button on his phone and Dierks Bentley’s “Come a Little Closer” floated out, it was all she could do to continue standing.
>
“I believe this is your chair,” Beau said. “So, have a seat. And hold on.”
She sat down and took a deep breath as Beau began moving his hips to the music in a way that made his abdominal muscles do all kinds of wonderful things. He was a good gyrator.
She somehow managed to land her eyeballs on his face, and he was grinning from ear to ear. “You doing okay, darlin’? I’m not making you uncomfortable now, am I?” He tilted her head up with his hands. Ran a thumb across her lower lip.
She was dreadfully uncomfortable, but not in the way she’d expected. Instead of being embarrassed and mortified, she was just . . . horny. Unbearably horny.
“I’m fine,” she squeaked. “You’re very good at this.”
“Oh yeah? I’ve never done it before.”
“I never would have guessed.”
“You know,” Beau said, reaching down for her hands. “Some places have a no-touching policy. But not this one. You can touch all you want.”
He placed her hands on his warm, rock-hard belly, and wow. She’d known that each fingertip had more than three thousand nerve endings, but she hadn’t known they were connected to her clitoris. She squirmed in her seat as Beau slid her hands up his sculpted abs to press one of her palms against his chest, just over his heart.
She’d been fantasizing about touching his chest in this way ever since the night he opened the door at the Village Chateau. And the reality was even better. She ran her hands over his pecs, feeling his nipples harden beneath her touch. Brazenly, she brushed them with her fingertips until Beau groaned.
He lowered himself until he was practically sitting on her lap, all the while continuing to move to the sensuous melody of “Come a Little Closer.” Then he dipped his head until Alice’s face was shadowed by the brim of his hat. He brushed his lips over her ear and whispered, “You make me crazy.”
Alice shivered. She was the one going crazy.
Slowly, Beau stood up, dragging his chest and belly so close to Alice’s lips that she could feel his heat. She wanted to taste him, so she brushed her lips against his skin. Beau shivered, and Alice kissed his flesh, sucking and licking as if he were a juicy peach.
