“Women, in general, are too nice,” Alice said.
“We should rebel,” Claire said. “We should just stop being nice. Kind of like when you broke the habit of mindlessly saying you’re sorry—”
“Which is something all women do,” Alice added.
Claire nodded her head. “Sorry. You’re right.”
Alice raised an eyebrow.
“Dang it! I said it, didn’t I?”
“It’s so hard to stop,” Alice said. “But if I did it, anybody can.”
Claire gave her a thumbs-up. “So, are you and Beau sharing a room?”
Holy guacamole. Alice hadn’t thought about that. When they’d struck their bargain, she’d planned on doing a pop-in at the wedding reception and then driving back to Big Verde that night. But so much had changed. For one thing, she was a bridesmaid now and couldn’t do a pop-in. And then there was the fact that her fake relationship didn’t feel fake anymore. The prospect of sharing a room didn’t freak her out at all. But she didn’t want to make assumptions. Even if she and Beau had sex—and she was pretty sure they would—that didn’t necessarily mean he’d want her in his bed all night. “Brittany says I can have her cousin’s room.”
Brittany limped back in. “Found the earrings!”
Oh dear. Big yellow sunflowers. Brittany handed them to Alice. “I think you have everything you need. Oh wait! Do you have a pair of cowboy boots? All the bridesmaids are wearing them.”
“Yes,” Alice said, faking cheerfulness. “A brand-new pair. Beau helped me pick them out.”
Brittany sighed in relief. “Thanks, Alice. For everything. Also, your boyfriend is so cute! I always thought I’d end up with a cowboy. But here I am with a computer geek.”
The glowing smile on Brittany’s face indicated she didn’t mind a bit.
“Thanks,” Alice said, even though she wasn’t sure if that was the appropriate response to someone complimenting your boyfriend.
“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
