This was interesting.
He let the full weight of his arm pull the waistband even lower—he hadn’t bothered with underwear either—and flexed his abs.
Alice’s chest rose and fell, and she brought a hand up to fan her face.
This was very interesting. Was it possible that Miss Martin was worked up? Turned on? By him?
“Cool your jets, Allie. The amorous activities are over.”
He sure as hell hoped that was true. The noisy couple next door had quieted down about thirty seconds before Alice knocked on his door. But Alice didn’t need to know that. Not while her cheeks were such a lovely shade of scarlet from irritation and . . .
Whatever it was that was making her pupils dilate.
“My jets don’t need cooling, thank you very much.”
“Well, you look pretty heated. Are you feeling okay?”
He loved ruffling her feathers. He’d been doing it since the age of nine, when his parents’ list of babysitters for him and Bryce had dwindled down to one incredibly polite hard-ass thirteen-year-old named Alice Ann Martin.
“I feel fine except for being extremely tired and unable to sleep.”
“Have you tried reading a book?” Beau asked. Because reading books was all Alice ever did.
Actually, that wasn’t quite true. She also apparently stalked hotel hallways, hoping to make a citizen’s arrest if folks were having too much fun.
Alice rolled her eyes. “Yes, and it was hard to concentrate because of all the moaning.”
She turned her little nose up, as if she knew of a specific ordinance against orgasms.
Allie loved rules. And she’d had plenty for him and Bryce when she’d been their babysitter. Luckily, once he and Bryce finished eighth grade, their parents finally decided they could be left alone without burning the house down. It was right before Alice had gone away to college. Obviously, he and Bryce had changed a lot since then. Their cotton-top heads had turned sandy blond. They were tall—he had a good foot on Alice—and hard work kept them fit.
Hell, they were buff. And until now, he hadn’t known Alice had noticed.
Her pulse pounded frantically at that sweet spot at the base of her neck.
She’d noticed, all right.
“Beau Montgomery, it’s past midnight. You’ve been disrespectful to all the guests in the hotel. You’d better keep it down, or I’ll—”
“Spank me?”
Alice pursed her lips and flared her cute little bunny nostrils. He hoped she’d go for the foot stomp. It was especially entertaining when she did that.
Her right foot—bare, with painted pink toenails—quivered. She was fighting the foot stomp. “I don’t believe in corporal punishment.”
“That’s probably a shame,” Beau said.
Alice rolled her eyes before spinning on her heel and heading for the stairs at the end of the hall. Was she really going to let him have the last word?
She stopped and turned around.
Nope.
“Beau Montgomery,” she said. “Don’t make me come back up here.”
He laughed. He should probably ’fess up about Allie having the wrong room, but she was already halfway down the stairs. Which was fine, because Alice was going to think whatever she wanted to think, which was always the worst where he was concerned.
He went back into his room, shaking his head. He should have gone home after the reception, but Jessica and Casey had paid for rooms for everyone who’d helped out with the wedding. It was a nice room, and he’d anticipated having someone to share it with. Especially since his job had been to entertain all of Jessica’s single out-of-town friends.
Just swing them around the dance floor and call them darlin’. They’re not used to real cowboys, and they’ll be thrilled!
As one of the foremen of Rancho Cañada Verde—Bryce was the other—Beau was definitely a “real” cowboy. And since he loved to dance and charm the ladies, it had seemed like the perfect assignment.
He stripped off his jeans and climbed back into bed, stretching and yawning. The night had been a total bust. He’d danced with every bridesmaid, cousin, and business associate of Jessica’s. He’d two-stepped, boot-scooted, and even whipped and nae-naed. He’d fetched drinks and paid compliments. But after all that, here he was, sprawled out in a double bed all by himself.
He’d thought things had started looking up when Jessica’s old college roommate began making some serious moves late in the evening. To put it politely, she’d been an enthusiastic dance partner. She’d probably be able to pick him out of a lineup if she was allowed to do it with her pelvis. But while her body had been all over him, her eyes kept landing on a sullen guy sitting all by himself in the corner.
“Old boyfriend?” he’d asked.
The poor woman had wilted in embarrassment. Beau could have been a dick about it, but it wasn’t the first time he’d been used to make someone jealous. He’d even helped her out by making sure the guy had a clear line of sight while he pretended to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. And judging by the sounds that had come from next door, the couple was definitely back together.
Beau rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. He had to be up early to take his grandmother to church in the morning. He’d been sinning on Saturday and praying on Sunday ever since he was thirteen, which was when he’d sneaked his first cigarette, tossed back his first shot of whiskey, and started having all kinds of conflicting and inappropriate thoughts about the babysitter.
Chapter
Two
Sundays were busy at Chateau Bleu. Tourists visiting the Texas Hill Country’s many wineries, shops, and swimming holes liked to drop in for brunch, and they were often joined by locals after the churches let out. Because of the wedding guests staying in the hotel, the restaurant was buzzing this morning. Luckily, Alice managed to snag a small table in the corner.
She tugged at the unfamiliar shirt riding up her midriff. When she’d woken up this morning, both her dress and Carmen were gone. A note explained that Carmen had taken the dress to have it cleaned. In its
