Page 10 of Eighteen Bowties and Counting

Now, the kids finished their ice cream, and Beau still hadn’t called. Charlotte had half a mind to go into the kitchen and demand Mason give her his number. She’d call him herself if he wasn’t going to tell her about the job tonight.

Just when her desperation had started to choke her, her phone rang. She nearly threw Alice off her lap in her hurry to get the device out of her pocket. “Please, Lord,” she begged when she saw the number didn’t belong to anyone she had saved in her phone. “Let this be Beau.”

“Who’s Beau?” Garrett asked.

“No one,” she said, which was about as far from the truth as possible. If he was no one, why had she been thinking about him all day? And not only about the job and potentially working for him.

It seemed like all her fifteen-year-old fantasies had only been lying dormant, and the human memory was a very powerful thing. It had conjured up everything she’d once felt for him, but in a new, more mature way.

She tapped on the call. “Hello?”

“Miss Wisenhouer?”

She knew Beau’s voice instantly. Relief rushed through her. “I have been waiting for you to call,” she said. “You’ve been driving me nuts.”

He chuckled in that deep, throaty, rich voice that tickled her attraction. “Sorry, Miss Wisenhouer.”

“You don’t need to call me that.”

“Oh? So a first-name basis is okay?”

Charlotte took a moment, because it sure seemed like he was flirting with her. Flirting. “Yes,” she said. “In fact, sometimes I’m called Char or even Char-Char.”

He laughed, the sound delicious and robust. “I don’t think I’ll be using that last one.”

She grinned too, and she paced down the hall toward the bedrooms. “So? What’s the news?” Please let it be good, she prayed. Please, please, please.

Beau cleared his throat, which so wasn’t good. Charlotte pressed her eyes closed and tried to will her pulse to stay steady. She didn’t need to get all excited, or depressed, or worried, or scared before he’d even said anything.

But clearing his throat? Never a good sign.

Maybe he’s getting a cold, she thought.

“Let me explain,” Beau said.

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“Depends on your definition of that word.”

“Go on then.”

“I want you as the Stable Manager. You’re the best candidate, and I think you’d do a real good job.”

Charlotte let his words sink into her ears, and as they did, she grinned and grinned. “All right,” she said. “I accept.”

“You didn’t let me explain.”

“What’s to explain?” She couldn’t even imagine moving onto that ranch. Into a place of her own. Of course, she’d have to share with someone. Maybe two people. But it wouldn’t be her brother and sister-in-law.

“Charlotte, we’re full-up here at Three Rivers.”

She took a breath, her mouth opening to say something. But what, she didn’t know. A puff of air came out of her mouth, and she promptly closed it again.

“We have three cowgirls here,” he said. “Their cabin is full. We just went through this whole restructuring—you know what? None of this is important. Here’s the situation: You got the job, but if you take it, you’ll have to live with me.”

Silence flooded the line. “Live…with you.” She wasn’t asking. She was simply trying to make the words understandable.

“Yes.” Beau cleared his throat again. “The foreman’s cabin is bigger than the others. I currently live alone, and I have three bedrooms, two baths, and a loft. I talked to Squire, and we figure it’s enough room for the two of us.”

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