“Are you catering that, too?”
“I’m showing up with a few trays of canapes and a margarita machine. But I’m staying for the strippers.”
Alice groaned as Carmen headed for the door. “Loosen up, buttercup! I hear they’re wearing chaps and not much else, so it’s going to be a good time.”
There was only one man that Alice wanted to see in chaps, and that was Beau.
She sighed. What did a person do when she’d developed very real feelings for her fake boyfriend? Every time her phone chimed, she hoped it was Beau. Every time she saw a cowboy hat, she hoped it was Beau. White ranch truck driving by? Maybe it was Beau.
When she was with him, she felt like herself, only more. She’d had a taste of Beau Montgomery, and now she wanted all of him.
Last night, Beau had shared his very essence in one of the most private and intimate human acts. And he hadn’t just invited her to watch. He’d invited her in. He’d held her with his eyes, breathed her name with his release.
She shivered at the memory.
Tonight would be their night. They were going to make love. And Alice had no intention of marking it off her bucket list. Because it wasn’t about that anymore. It was about being with Beau.
She stripped down to her undies, but before she slipped into the sundress, she removed her bra and covered a breast with her hand, letting the nipple peek out between her fingers. She snapped a pic, and then with a quick rush of adrenaline, she sent it to Beau.
She never thought she’d do something like that, but she never thought she’d fall in love—was that what this was?—with a cowboy, either.
With her heart still pounding, she got dressed. And Carmen knew what she was talking about, because the dress was absolutely darling. She took another picture and sent it to Beau, too. Then she brushed her hair. But instead of putting it up in her usual ponytail, she decided to leave it down. She felt different. So, why not look different?
Her phone chimed, sending a thrill coursing through her. What was Beau going to say about those pictures? Maybe he was sending one back—a quick peek at some delicious part of his body or just his gorgeous grin . . .
It wasn’t Beau. It was an email from the Austin Public Library.
Subject line: Congratulations
Holy guacamole. She got the job! She plopped onto the bed, staring at her phone. Had she read it wrong? Nope.
She felt . . . proud. Pleased. Valued. Accomplished. And . . . somehow, not the least bit interested.
How was it that only a few short weeks had passed since she’d thought there was nothing keeping her in Big Verde? How had she been so blind? Her family was in Big Verde. Her friends—because yes, she had friends—were there, too. Not to mention her pride and joy, the Big Verde Public Library, which she’d basically built from scratch.
Why did she feel like such a different person?
Beau Montgomery.
It was true that she was a good partner to herself. And that she’d worked tirelessly on self-improvement. But it was being with Beau that had freed her. She’d finally emerged from her cocoon! It had taken seeing herself through Beau’s eyes before she could fully appreciate her own uniqueness. She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. She was pretty. And you know what? She had a sense of humor. And she freaking loved to have fun! All in all, she was kind of cool.
Someone knocked on the door. Maybe it was Beau! She opened it and . . . It was Claire and Maggie.
“Wow,” Claire said. “I’ve never seen a more disappointed face.”
“Sorry—”
“Stop saying you’re sorry,” Maggie said. “I’d be disappointed, too, if I were expecting a hunky cowboy and got me instead.”
Alice laughed and stepped out of the doorway. “Well, I’m not disappointed. I’m delighted.”
“And cute!” Claire said. “Where did you get that dress?”
“It’s Carmen’s. She found the skirt I brought to be a bit dour.”
“Were we supposed to bring skirts or dresses for anything other than the wedding?” Maggie asked.
Although Claire wore one of those long maxi dresses, Maggie was distinctively more casual in a pair of shorts and a black T-shirt.
“Not unless you’re going to the rehearsal and the dinner,” Alice said.
“I’m invited to the dinner because I made all of the bridesmaids’ bouquets,” Claire said, sitting on the bed.
Maggie sat next to her. “We came a day early for a little getaway. Thank God I don’t have to suffer through the rehearsal. Everybody acts as if the world will stop spinning if someone heads down the aisle one second too soon. That’s why I didn’t have a rehearsal for my wedding.”
“Maybe if you had, you would have known not to walk down the aisle first,” Claire said.
“I was the bride,” Maggie said. “It made sense for me to go first. Also, Travis was standing at the end, and I was anxious to get the official part over with so I could rip his clothes off.”
“Well, I was your maid of honor, and that’s not how it was supposed to work,” Claire said with a grin. “But Travis looked super hot that day. I don’t really blame you.”
Maggie sighed. “Bless his heart. He was so nervous.” She seemed to lose herself for a moment, but then she snapped out of it. “What are they serving at the rehearsal dinner? Maybe I’ll come.”
“Brittany wanted a chuckwagon dinner,” Alice said. “Carmen wasn’t too thrilled about it at first, but once she started getting fancy with quail, venison, and baby back ribs—”
“I’m in,” Maggie said.
Claire looked at her. “You weren’t invited.”
Maggie shrugged and popped her gum. “I’ll pretend to pass out hors d’oeuvres or something.”
“And then after the dinner, there’s the bachelorette party to suffer through,” Alice said.
“There’s a bachelorette party?” Maggie asked, clapping her hands.
“How dare Brittany leave us off of that
