Chapter 5 #2
Alex wasn’t a fan of the universe’s odds. They always favored the house, and the house that screwed you out of your money was just as likely to screw you out of your life. “So you’re heading to Vegas?”
She reached out and tugged on his shirt sleeve. “Nope, we’re going to my dad’s barn.”
Greer needed to stop touching this man. She’s known him for half a day and couldn’t seem to keep her hands off him. But there was more to him than she’d originally given him credit for. Secrets and pain and ambitions.
He might try to keep them hidden from the world, but he’d never met someone like her before. Someone who could see past the surface, even if she couldn’t always decipher what was lurking beneath.
And that made him irresistible to her.
“Going where?” Alex looked down at her grip on his arm as though she had poisonous fingertips. Not exactly a boost to a girl’s ego. “And why am I going with you?”
“Are Raylene’s Bunco buddies still at Sweetwater?”
He grimaced, reminding Greer of a six-year-old facing a plate of cooked spinach. “Probably.”
“Then you’re safer with me.” She tapped her chin as if a thought had just occurred to her, as if the idea hadn’t bloomed in her brain the minute she realized he wanted to be at Raylene’s about as much as she wanted to wear six-inch heels and pearls every day.
“Besides, the barn has a little office and bathroom in it. If you’re not comfortable at the B&B, I bet we could get you set up out there.
No internet, but there’s running water and electricity, and you seem like a pretty simple guy. ”
His lips tipped up at the corners, and the damn things were like magnets. She actually leaned closer to him before she caught herself. What did she plan to do—lay a kiss on him right here in the middle of Guadalupe Street?
“Four-poster beds with slick duvets and fluffy pillows definitely aren’t my scene.”
“Oh, she put you in the Thelma and Louise room, didn’t she?”
“So we’re going to some barn so I don’t have any more satin suffocation nightmares?”
“Not completely. I’m pretty sure that’s the place where I’m supposed to roll the dice.”
Before Alex could shut her down, Greer told him to stay put, and she ran up to her apartment above her small studio to grab her car keys. She bounded back down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk, half-convinced he would be gone by the time she returned.
But he was just standing there, his sketch pad tucked under his arm, staring down Guadalupe.
And oh Lord, the look on his face. How could she have ever believed he was in any way simple?
She might think she could read people, but it would take a room full of psychologists—and a couple of priests for good measure—to pick all the individual emotions out of Alex’s expression.
But what was most clear to her was his sad sort of longing.
What could such a tough man be missing so intensely?
This time, it wasn’t her ovaries pulsing. It was her heart.
He’s not a stray, Greer. He’s a grown man.
A grown man alone in some elemental way she’d never experienced in her own life because she had a great family, talented hands, and a sharp mind. She glanced down at her feet.
And she had a damn powerful secret weapon. Her best possible future.
A jolt streaked through her chest. Your life, your love, your prophecy.
Your love. Alex Villanueva had shown up on the very day she’d received her prophecy boots. Could that mean…
Uh-uh. That wasn’t the way it worked. The boots weren’t some potion that caused the nearest person to fall head over heels with you. Surely Alex being in Prophecy was just a coincidence. He certainly didn’t strike her as soul mate material.
Before she had time to chew further on that piece of psychological and emotional gristle, he turned and spotted her standing in the middle of the sidewalk as though she’d been playing freeze tag.
“Something wrong?” he said.
She had no idea how to answer that question. One quick bolstering breath, and she slapped a smile on her face. “I’m parked down this way.”
Once they were inside her Datsun, Greer’s mistake became clear. Alex Villanueva was big, filling up her car with his body, his presence, and his scent. Self-preservation mandated Greer crank the engine and lower her window. “Fresh air is so much nicer than air conditioning, don’t you think?”
“Since my car doesn’t have AC, I’m always a fresh air guy.”
Greer purposefully headed the opposite direction from her dad’s house.
Even though she’d been the one to offer up the barn, she needed a few minutes.
Since his death, she’d only been out there a handful of times.
It still hurt too damn much to walk into his small log-sided cabin and realize he wasn’t there. Would never be there again.
That wasn’t possible with the boot shop, but some days she could barely stand to walk inside, because each time she expected to see him skiving a piece of leather, sketching a new design, or taking a client’s foot measurement. When his absence hit her, fresh every time, Greer’s heart hurt.
Then his voice would echo in her mind, saying something like, “Girl, don’t you get all down in the mouth about something you cain’t rightly change.”
So today she might make a change that she could control, a change that could help the town she loved. She smiled at Alex. “Have you taken any time to look around Prophecy?”
“Not much of a tourist.”
“I’ll give you the nickel tour.” She waved a hand toward the opposite side of Guadalupe. “Pilar at Riudosa’s is known for her migas and carne guisada. Everything from that kitchen is a taste-gasm, but those two are multi-gasmic.”
The sound Alex made was a strangled, wheezing laugh. “Did you just compare Tex-Mex to…”
“Sex?” She glanced at him to find a hint of red creeping up from his buttoned-up collar. “In my book, anything crazy-delicious gets compared to sex. You’re a big boy, Villanueva. Surely you’re not terrified of the female orgasm.”
He avoided returning her gaze and shook his head as though she was a lost cause, but his lips were pointing in the right direction. “I’m pretty damn fond of them, if you want to know the truth.”
The hair on Greer’s arms prickled in awareness. She should’ve known not to bait an undomesticated animal.
“No comeback for that?”
Oh, she had plenty of them, but the day she met a man didn’t seem to be the time to blurt out things like “Bet I’d be pretty damn fond of the orgasms you could give me.” Delaney needed this guy to carve boot designs, not scratch Greer’s sudden itch.
An itch that was getting itchier every minute she spent in this man’s immediate vicinity.
“If you haven’t strolled by Bostick’s, you should.”
“The general store place?”
“That’s it.”
“Yeah, someone’s kinda twisted,” he said, his tone amused.
“The displays change several times a week. Sometimes daily.”
“That because nothing else goes on in town?”
“Prophecy’s a happening place.”
Alex made a show of glancing out the window, where admittedly there wasn’t much foot traffic downtown today. His left brow lifted. Damn the man. Not only was he a lefty, but he could do the one-brow-raise thing.
“Can you wiggle your ears?”
That sent both eyebrows up. “Huh?”
“You can do the eyebrow thing. Just wondering what else you can do.”
And oh holy Grandma Moses, the smile that spread across Alex’s tan face was so wicked, so full of baby-I-can-do-you-right that Greer would now need to slather her itchy feeling with some anti-Alex cream to get rid of it.
“I’ve got a hidden talent or two.”
“Like what?”
“I can cook.”
She cut her eyes toward the sky and gave a little head shake. “Let me guess, you’ve got one special dinner menu and killer pancakes for the morning after.”
“I can do those too, but my specialties are chile rellenos, shrimp scampi, and traditional flan. I also make a pretty mean menudo.”
“You were reeling me in up until the menudo.”
“It’s an acquired taste among non-Latinos.”
“So who taught you—your mom?”
Most of that thigh-loosening smile disappeared. “She was an amazing cook.”
“Was? I thought you said she lived in Georgia.”
“Don’t see her much.”
The idea of being out of touch with her family was so foreign to Greer, she didn’t know what to say. “Did you have a falling out?”
“Something like that.” By this time, they were driving past the middle school, and Alex asked, “Have much trouble around here?”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Kids getting together and doing stuff they shouldn’t.”
She inclined her head in the sprawling brick building’s direction. “Those kids are still having sleepovers and playing with Nerf guns, but I’m sure the high schoolers have their share of secret parties down by the river.”
Silence filled the car until Alex said, “So tell me about more about this risk you’re thinking of taking.”
Greer took the turn down Beulah Caldwell Road heading to her dad’s place.
“Well, I haven’t thought it all the way through yet, but I’m playing with an idea.
I run a small artists’ co-op now, but I’m considering something much bigger.
Lots of different artisans, crafting their wares in a way that visitors can observe the process. ”
“Painters?”
“Way more than that. Painters, sculptors, book makers, woodworkers, the best I can get my hands on. It would be amazing if I could recruit a graffiti artist, someone like that Jefe Mejor from San Antonio everyone’s been talking about lately.
People would love watching that kind of unbridled creativity. ”
“A lot of artists requires a lot of space. And that sounds like a big investment.” His dry tone made it clear he didn’t think her picnic included a fully loaded basket.
“Haven’t you ever done something risky because it could change your whole life?”
He turned to look at her, his dark eyes serious. “What do you think I’m doing by making this trip to Prophecy?”