Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
When Greer begged her brother for details on the guy-date she’d set up for Alex, Cal had gone completely tightlipped other than saying, “I’m still deciding.”
Men.
Women made up their minds about one another in the time it took them to scan from shoes to handbag. Why couldn’t her brother see Alex was a good guy? He just had a thing about opening up to people.
Well, Alex could just get over himself today because he was helping her check in all the competition registrants whether he liked it or not.
Hearing the shower running through the wall of his apartment, she didn’t bother knocking on the door, just let herself in and wandered through the small space.
On a side table, she found a stack of magazines—a couple on leather working, a copy of Cowboys & Indians, a Smithsonian, and a high-end women’s fashion edition.
She was still flipping through it, glaring at the emaciated models when she heard the bathroom door click open. “Should I be worried that you have a copy of ELLE?”
“Dammit, Greer. Ever heard of that social courtesy called a knock?”
“You were in the—” She glanced up at him, and the rest of her sentence dropped like a cinder block.
She hadn’t really considered his state of dress or undress when she’d strolled into his place.
Big mistake.
Or not.
She’d obviously failed miserably—or scored majorly—when she’d bought those bath towels.
Around Alex’s hips and thick thighs, the brown terrycloth looked like a hand towel.
Possibly one of those fingertip deals mothers put out in the powder room around the holidays.
As much as she wanted to look her fill of what that fabric was stretched taut across, her gaze dropped to his left leg.
A map, so detailed it stole her breath, wrapped Alex’s calf.
The compass inked on top of the map had somehow been designed so the hands looked as if they were spinning.
Her inner thighs clenched together without her consent, but she could’ve crossed them like a pretzel knot and it wouldn’t have soothed the ache between them. Because Alex was tattooed from the ankle up, and the sight of that beautiful ink hit Greer straight in the panties.
“I’m…uh…” Her brain and her mouth were playing that old string-and-can game. And not very well. Neither seemed to be able to understand what the other was saying.
“The word you’re looking for is sorry.”
Oh, no it wasn’t. Replace that S with an H and that second R with an N, and they might have a winner.
And if she could play Scrabble, her brain was obviously working on some levels.
“You really should let me sketch you.”
“What would you be willing to give me in return?”
A world-rocking few hours in this bed. Yeah, but whose world would actually be rocked—his or hers? “Are we playing the give-to-get game again?”
The slight smile around his lips tightened into an expression different from his normal scowl. Hurt, maybe? “Want me to take off the towel?”
God, did she.
But his words weren’t a teasing question. Weren’t even a dispassionate acceptance of her obsession with his body. They sounded like a bitter souvenir from other women who’d wanted to see him exposed.
Greer jumped off the bed, and the magazine fell to sprawl on the rug.
“Alex, I am sorry. I didn’t think. I mean, I thought we were friends, and this is pretty much what I do with any of my friends.
” The door was only five steps away. If she could get to it, they could both forget this.
“I’ll just wait outside.” One. Two. Three. Four. Fi—
Her head-down progress came to an abrupt stop.
Alex’s hand around her upper arm burned her skin in a decadently delicious way.
“We are friends.” His voice was low, rough, and if she wasn’t completely oblivious, somewhat turned on.
“I’m not used to all this. People popping into my space whenever they want. Blind dates with other men.”
She rubbed her lips together to hold in a bubble of laughter. “It wasn’t a blind date. You damn well knew you were going to my brother’s house.”
“You set me up with four guys, Greer.”
Yeah, her lips weren’t nearly strong enough to withstand this. “I wasn’t sure which you’d like best.”
He drew her—slowly, gently—toward him, until the front of her shirt brushed his bare chest. “I met Cooper Crowe.”
“Oh.” Coop had recently come home after his physical therapy rehab, but if Alex wanted the scoop, she wasn’t his girl. “Look, Coop’s story isn’t mine to tell, so if—”
“I’ve lost shit in my life.” His tone was even rougher than before, not with lust this time, but with pain. “Lost pieces of myself. Not physical pieces. But pieces I thought would kill me.”
“Oh, Alex.” She cupped his shoulders in her palms, slid them up his neck to soothe his tension-filled muscles.
“I’ve been feeling sorry for myself for a long fucking time. Then I see a guy who’s lost his leg. And you know what? He sat there laughing and drinking and bullshitting just like nothing was wrong. Like he wasn’t fighting those crutches. Fighting that leg.”
She ran her thumbs along his jaw, used her other fingers to massage his neck. “What did you lose?”
“Not a what.”
A who then. “You don’t have to say anything else—”
“My brother Javier.”
God, as many times as she’d threatened to kill her brother, just the thought of something happening to Cal made her stomach feel the size of a lentil.
She closed her eyes, leaned her forehead against Alex’s shoulder as though she were the one who needed comfort.
“I’m sorry. Sorry I was in here. Sorry I keep pressing you.
Sorry I keep shoving Prophecy down your throat. ”
“Did you mean it?”
When she opened her eyes again, Alex’s dark gaze was intent on her face. “I wouldn’t say I’m sorry if I didn’t mean it.”
“No, did you mean it about wanting me to stay? Wanting me to be your resident artist?”
She ran her fingertips along his jawline, skimmed them across his warm lips. She wanted that and so much more. “I never ask for anything I don’t want.”
Since he’d left San Antonio, Alex had never mentioned his brother’s death to another soul.
But somehow he’d known that Greer would understand.
Understand how he felt when he’d seen Cooper Crowe.
Understand that even though he was disgusted with himself, that he still felt the pain of his brother’s loss as if Javi had been gunned down yesterday.
She hadn’t asked for the details. She’d known he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.
Alex kissed her fingertips, still lingering on his lips. If he was sticking around Prophecy for a little while—at least until he won the competition—there was no reason he should deny himself. He wanted her. She wanted him.
And even if her brother wasn’t president of the Alex Villanueva fan club, Cal was at least friendly now.
Alex sucked her middle finger into his mouth, twirled his tongue around it, tickling the underside with a quick stroke. Greer’s eyes clouded, and she sagged against him, just a little. Giving, but still strong.
He released her finger and drew her hand around to the back of his neck as though they were dancing to a slow song. And then he took her mouth.
She sighed, and he pulled her breath into his body. He would’ve bet everything he had in the bank that his and Greer’s first time would be a frantic clash of teeth. Not this gentle ebb and flow of lips and tongue.
God knew, his dick was on point regardless, pressing against the excuse for a towel he had wrapped around him, trying to get closer to Greer. He wanted to feel the rub of her skin, of her hair, of her mouth against him. He wanted the clench of her body around him.
This wasn’t his plan. He wasn’t looking for a woman. Sure as hell wasn’t looking for something that was starting to feel like a relationship. But Greer, with her wild hair, her impulsive ways, and her giving nature—it was hard to turn away from something so damn good. So strangely right.
Slowly, so fucking slowly he died a hundred times, Alex slid his hand up to cup her breast, full and just right in his palm. He flicked his thumb over her nipple, and she moaned.
Suddenly desperate, he grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and yanked it out of her pants.
The first touch of his hand against her stomach, softly rounded and warm, did a number on his knees, yanked the bones right out of his legs.
God, the power this woman had over him should’ve had him packing his shit in his car.
She pushed away, her breath uneven and her eyes dilated. He hit the catch on her bra, popping it open so he could cover her entire breast. He was going to get his mouth on those and—
“Alex,” she said, her voice husky in that way a woman sounded just before she pulled you inside her body. “We can’t…uh…we can’t do this now.”
Her skin was soft and warm in his palm. “Yes, we can.”
“Can’t you hear that?”
All he could hear was his heart thumping in his ears and the sound of that bed saying “Get her naked and lay her out on me.”
“Alex.” She caught his earlobe and twisted, reminding him of his abuela, an immediate dick-softening turnoff.
“What the hell was that?” Reluctantly, he pulled his hand from under her shirt and she went to work on her bra, doing that special shimmy women had for getting back into their underwear.
“Don’t you hear the people in the barn?”
Now that she mentioned it, he heard some low voices and shuffling feet coming from downstairs. Dammit, the competition registration. “What time is it?”
“Five minutes past the time I was supposed to start checking people in.”
After Greer hit his door at a dead run, shoving her shirt into her jeans, Alex dropped down on his bed and rested his head in his hands. How in the hell was he supposed to win this damn competition when he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off the woman running it?
Because even if he agreed to stick around and be a part of this village concept for a little while, he couldn’t commit long-term.
Not with what was still hanging over him here in Texas.
Besides, it wasn’t smart for Greer to rely on him in any way.
His failure was one thing, but taking someone down with him, he’d done that once.
Would never do it again.
And a man who relied only on himself was a fuckload safer in this world.
Too many people around, and you didn’t have a clue who you could trust and who you couldn’t. People you thought you knew betrayed you in the most gut-ripping way possible. And you betrayed them back.
Javier.
Alex could never make amends for his brother’s death, but he could try by getting his ass out there and registering for Greer’s competition.
Then he could not only kick every other tooler’s ass but the rest of the entrants too.
Getting PBC’s business wasn’t enough anymore.
Now he wanted the contract, the money, and the win.
And while he was at it, he’d take a little of Greer Maddox too.