Page 135 of Once Upon a Holidate
“Still, good information,” he teased. “I can probably use it onJeopardy.”
“Is that game show still on?”
“It is. Are you a fan?”
“The theme gets in my head for days at a time,” she admitted. “Anyway, back to your sister. She seems really nice.”
“She is.”
Beth hesitated for a second. “She invited me to Thanksgiving dinner. Is that okay?”
“That depends. I have a big, loud family and my mother is weird. If you can handle it, you’re more than welcome.”
“Will I be in the way?”
“Do you plan to eat over six pounds of turkey, because unless it’s that, you’ll be fine.”
She unfastened Rida’s saddle and lifted it off him as if it weighed nothing. “I am unlikely to eat more than five pounds of turkey. I was thinking more about your personal life. Will your girlfriend mind me tagging along?”
He reached for the saddle, but she shook her head. “I’m good. I do this all the time.” She carried it into the tack room, leaving him to ponder the girlfriend question.
For a second he allowed himself to pretend she was fishing for information rather than being polite. Then he reminded himself his luck wasn’t that good. He’d had his share of women, but very few of them had been as beautiful as the curvy horsewoman walking Rida’s saddle blanket into the tack room.
“No girlfriend,” he said when she returned. “No wife, either.”
“I kind of assumed that last one,” she admitted, setting several brushes on the table by the door. “Seeing as I haven’t seen one lurking around the house.”
“Why would I marry someone who lurks? What are you saying?”
She grinned. “I take that back. You would never marry a lurker.”
As they spoke, she patted Rida’s front shoulder, then gently nudged him. The huge stallion politely shifted his weight to his other three legs, then raised his front hoof for her to inspect. Beth used a small brush to clean the outside of his hoof, then pulled a hoof pick out of her back pocket.
It was the kind of grunt work they all did every day, but he had to admit on Beth it looked sexy as hell. Which made him an idiot. Or possibly something worse.
Chapter Four
“What are you going to wear?” Queen Liana asked, her face showing worry on their Skype call.
“Mo-om, seriously? I’m not five. I know how to dress.”
“I know you knowhowto dress, Bethany. What I’m asking instead is do you have anything that isn’t a T-shirt and jeans? I saw your luggage. I would be thrilled to think you actually packed two duffels worth of clothes, but we both know the second duffel held a sleeping bag and pillow, don’t we?”
Bethany suddenly felt like that five-year-old. “How come you know me so well?”
“I love you and you’re my favorite daughter.”
“I’m your only daughter.”
Her mother laughed. “Then you don’t have to question my sincerity, do you?”
“I have one nice shirt,” Bethany said with a sigh. “And a pair of dark wash jeans. And flats.” Not exactly her mother’s elegant style but hopefully it was good enough for a family Thanksgiving. “Did you have a nice dinner?” Because while it was still late morning in Happily Inc, it was after ten at night in El Bahar.
“We did. We had a delicious turkey dinner with all the trimmings. Louis outdid himself. I had him freeze leftovers for when you get home, darling.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Louis was the family’s French chef and a master at both the fancy and the simple. The man made a grilled cheese sandwich that could reduce Bethany to whimpering.
