Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Greer walked out of the workroom in time to hear her brother say “That’s the kind of guy who looks like he just knocked over a convenience store. Trouble written all over him.”
By the melty consistency of Greer’s legs and the pointy state of her nipples, there was no damn question about Alex Villanueva’s kind of trouble. Her body had been in a state of sexual alertness since she spotted him on the side of the road.
“His sketches are genius,” Delaney shot a sly look at Greer. “And the way your sister molested his leather samples, I’m pretty sure she almost—”
Cal jerked up a hand to make the age-old stop sign. “Don’t want to know.”
“I needed to get a feel for his work. Even though Delaney believes the right tooler can actually help her make prophecy boots, I haven’t been convinced.” She shrugged an apology toward Delaney.
“Are you saying you read something in those boot tops?”
She’d always had a special talent for interpreting the prophecy boots her dad made. Sometimes, she could also envision the matching pair, the boots of a person’s soul mate.
“Besides the fact that he’s crazy talented?
No, not really. And you don’t need me to tell you how good his work is.
” Lord, a man who looked like he did and had the talent to craft something as detailed and gorgeous at those designs?
A dangerously seductive combo that still made Greer’s knees so shaky that she propped a hip against the counter to keep her brother and Delaney from seeing how much Alex had affected her.
Delaney shifted from one foot to the other, pulling Greer’s attention to the bright red boots peeking out from her jeans.
Greer saw her in those boots almost every day, but she still wanted to pull up the leg of Delaney’s jeans and run her hands over the leather.
Tiny hearts, inlaid in turquoise and stitched in yellow, arced up from a field of flowers near the heel counter.
The hearts fluttered and flew around the shaft, up into the sky, looping around again to light on a daffodil, a Christmas cactus, a hibiscus.
Most people would just see a pretty design.
They wouldn’t understand the design represented Delaney’s journey to find her true place in the world.
“He didn’t seem to believe in the power of prophecy boots. ”
Cal grabbed her hand, drew her close to his side. “You struggled with it yourself, so I don’t think you can hold that against him. If anyone can convince him, you and Greer can. My bigger concern is the man looks like he doesn’t play nice with others.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice the shaved head, the flat eyes, and the hoop earrings thin enough to slice a man’s throat.”
“For laying eyes on him for all of thirty seconds, someone sure is observant,” Delaney mused.
Cal might not have been as observant as Greer when it came to Alex Villanueva.
Even though Alex had been wearing a long-sleeved shirt, she’d caught a peek of black ink under his cuff when he unzipped his portfolio.
The thought of ink on that man’s body made her want to crank up the ceiling fan to cool-off-the-hormones.
“Hey.” Delaney grabbed Cal’s arm and squeezed, giving him a wide-eyed look that Greer couldn’t quite interpret. “It’s a slow appointment day today, so why don’t we all play hooky and go have lunch at Sawyer’s place?”
“I just came by to—” he started. Delaney’s knee connected with his shin, and he let out an “Oof.”
Greer looked between them, found Cal’s expression confused and Delaney’s determined.
“Surely you have time for lunch,” Delaney said, her words very deliberate.
“Oh, lunch.” His quick triple nod reminded Greer of cuckoo clock, something she’d never seen him do before. “Sure, I could eat.”
Greer slipped into the workshop and grabbed a couple of file folders from the desk. When she returned, she said to Delaney, “If you don’t mind, I’m taking the invoices back to my place after lunch. That way I can work on the shop’s books from the comfort of my couch.”
“Works for me.” But the grin on Delaney’s face seemed a little too cheerful, definitely wider than it should be when she knew Greer paid bills any time she worked on PBC’s finances.
“Did the shop get a windfall that I don’t know about?”
“Not yet.” Delaney waved them out the front door, turned a sign saying the bootmaker was out, and locked up. “Isn’t it a beautiful day?” She walked a few steps in front of Greer and Cal, almost skipping her way down the sidewalk.
Greer looked up at her brother. “I can’t believe she’s the same woman who wanted nothing to do with Prophecy a few months ago, and now you two are happier than two pigs in a trough full of slop.”
“That’s the power of prophecy boots.”
Yes, and the power of true love.
When they made it to the Sandstone, their friend Sawyer Gunn’s restaurant, Cal held the door for Delaney and Greer. Compared to the bright sunlight outside, the dining room was dim, so it took a few seconds for Greer’s vision to adjust.
She spotted Ty Metcalf and a dark-haired little girl sitting at two tables pushed together.
That man had the soul of a saint, running his family’s ranch and raising his niece Georgia while his selfish sister chased acting jobs in New York.
How Mary Jo could stand to live so far away from her daughter, Greer had no idea.
“Ty expecting a group?” she asked Sawyer.
“Yep, us.” Behind the bar, Sawyer slapped his part-time bartender on the back. “She’s all yours. I’m breaking for lunch with the Maddox crew.”
What? Sawyer normally lorded over everything until the last customer was gone.
Yet here he was, that steady grin on his too-handsome face, rounding the bar and heading toward Ty’s table.
She followed him and found her brother and Delaney already seated.
Everyone—Sawyer, her brother, Delaney, Ty, and even his niece Georgia—all wore that we-know-something-y’all-don’t-know smile.
“What’s going on here?” She pulled out her chair and sat.
Cal held out his hand toward her and flat in his palm lay a heavy cream-colored envelope.
Greer’s breath simply stalled out. All the colors around her—the maroon tablecloth, the white bread plates, the blue napkins—seemed to pulse brighter, and the scent of something spicy swirled, making her dizzy.
Although she’d mentioned it to no one, since shortly after her dad’s death she’d had a feeling under her skin.
Little pinpricks telling her a chance was coming.
Maybe she’d subconsciously known she was about to get her prophecy boots.
She gently took the envelope from Cal and slowly—so slowly he bumped her shoulder with his—opened the flap.
No ripping, because this was the most important card she’d ever received.
The single piece of card stock slid easily from the envelope. And on it were printed the words she’d waited her entire life to read: Your life, your love, your prophecy.
“Oh my God. Where are they?”
Cal reached toward the chair on his other side.
It was like an old movie, flicking by shot by shot. Cal picking up a box. Gently setting it on the table. Slowly sliding it to rest in front of her.
No hurrying this moment.
Greer traced her fingers over the edges of the silver metal boot box. Other than a stitched leather medallion carved with the initials PBC in the center, a matching pull strap on one side and two intricate hinges on the other, it was just a box. A box with her future inside.
The table was silent, and every other noise in the place seemed muted. Or maybe that was just the blood booming in Greer’s ears.
She looped a finger into the pull tab and hesitated.
“Greer,” her brother finally said. “You’re taking as long as you did that Christmas Mom and Dad bought you a Barbie head.”
She laughed at the memory. She’d wanted one of those mannequin heads so bad. Wanted to learn to apply makeup and fix hair. After all, Barbie’s golden ’do had been perfect, a direct contrast to Greer’s dark, wavy mess.
“This only happens once in a girl’s life.”
“Well,” Sawyer drawled in his smart-ass way, “I’ve heard of other first times that were over faster than this.”
She shot him a raised-brow look.
He hurried to add, “Not that I would know anything about that. I like to take my time.”
Ty nodded toward his niece. “Do I have to remind y’all that little elephants have big ears?”
Sawyer held up his hands. “Boots, I was talking about boots.”
Greer and Sawyer had been buddies since he moved to Prophecy.
Friends only, even though he was a charmer of the first water.
People around town had often asked her why she and Sawyer weren’t dating.
After all, they were around the same age, and the man was as attractively golden as the sunshine after three weeks of thunderstorms.
Her mind wandered back to Alex Villanueva and his dark, broody sensuality, and her excitable parts revved up in a way they never had when she thought about Sawyer.
Apparently, she just wasn’t a fair-weather gal.
But some woman would come along eventually and turn Sawyer into a mess of shuffling feet and tangled tongue.
And she was procrastinating by thinking about Sawyer’s future love life.
With a deep breath, she lifted the box’s lid.
What was inside was obscured by PBC’s trademark metallic tissue paper.
When she peeled it back, her heart expanded inside her chest so that it was pressing almost painfully against her ribs.
Her prophecy boots were made of three colors only—black, white, and red.
This was it, her chance to touch them, interpret them, interpret her future.
She lifted the right boot from the nest of tissue paper and felt…
Nothing.
Where was the jolt of energy that normally streamed through her when she touched a prophecy boot?
Today, with her boot cradled between her palms, all she felt was quality leather.