Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Before he could find Greer, Alex was waylaid by Raylene. She reached out and snagged him as though her hand were one of those vaudeville shepherd hooks. “Alex, were your ears burning?”
He rubbed his ear, and Raylene’s hearty laugh rang out. “Burning good or burning bad?” he asked.
“Do you think I would tell you if it was bad?” She pulled him into a circle with a handful of other people.
“Dennie Crowe, Laurellen Smitherman, and Paula Svorchek, this is Alex Villanueva. Delaney says he does the most amazing leather tooling and design work you ever did see. And—” she drew the word out to four syllables, “—he’s a frontrunner in Greer Maddox’s art competition. ”
“The entrants haven’t even submitted their final piece yet, and then—” Alex started.
One of the ladies moved closer, looked from side to side and lowered her voice. “Honey, let me give you a little advice, okay?”
Alex shut up and simply nodded.
“You could be that guy who painted the Sistine Chapel, but since you’re not from around these parts, you need to get out and glad-hand people.
They support people they know and like—doesn’t matter if they’re judging 4-H projects, voting for a new mayor, or choosing which piece of art they like best.” She looked him over, spending a little extra time on his ears and freshly shaved head.
“Now don’t get me wrong, you’re a…what do they call it, Raylene? ”
“I think the word you’re looking for is hottie,” Raylene supplied.
“Yes, sir. You’re a hottie all right. And that might work with the female half of the population. But let’s be honest, honey, to the male persuasion, you look like more of a threat than ten miles of ungraded gravel road in a snowstorm.”
“Look, I appreciate the advice, but I’m not—”
“Tell us about Greer,” Raylene cut in.
Swear to God, he couldn’t get a complete sentence wedged between these women. “You’ve known her for a lot longer than I have.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” She slapped him on the arm. “You’re sweet on each other.”
Sweet wasn’t exactly how he’d describe most of their relationship. The sex was downright dirty, and the after-sex had been entirely too intimate and soul-baring to be considered sweet. “My…relationship…with Greer isn’t up for discussion.”
The ladies smiled and nodded. One of them said, “I bet your pair of prophecy boots will be comin’ any day now. She’ll make a beautiful bride. Got that sort of wild-child look about her. I can see her barefoot with wildflowers and all that.”
His stomach went on lockdown. Holy Jesus. Hadn’t they heard what he just said?
“Hey.” Greer appeared at his side and threaded her fingers with his.
Nothing had ever felt so damn right in his life, and pictures of cowboy boots matching Greer’s flashed in front of Alex’s eyes.
This town was slowly brainwashing him. “Where’d you disappear to?
One second you were behind me and the next, you were gone. ”
What exactly he’d done to win back her favor, he wasn’t sure. But he also wasn’t ready to give it up. In such a short time, she’d become the best thing in his life. “Oh, you know, just socializing like you told me to.”
Her eyebrows disappeared beneath her mass of wild hair. “You did something you were told to do? I should call the newspaper. That’ll make front-page news.”
“Greer,” the wedding-planning woman said. “What does Cal think of bringing Alex into the family?”
Now her brows scrunched together. “We haven’t made the final decision about the new tooler for PBC.”
“No, honey,” the woman said, “I mean what does he think of our Alex here as brother-in-law material? When do you think Delaney will be giving him a pair of prophecy boots?”
Greer’s mouth opened and out came an “Uh…uh…uh.” Alex squeezed her fingers, which must have traveled up and tickled the back of her throat because she began coughing as though a West Texas dust storm had suddenly blown through town. “I…ah…”
These women were as meddlesome as his tías, and he needed to divert this train wreck. “Ladies, everyone involved with PBC and Greer’s village is really focused on the competition right now, Cal included.” Yeah, he was mostly focused on kicking Alex’s ass if he didn’t treat his sister right.
A voice boomed over the loudspeakers in the pavilion. “The dessert judging will start in three minutes, y’all. The taste testers have taken their seats. If you want a front-row view of the best of the best, you need to get on over here now.”
The hunted look on Greer’s face lightened slightly. “That’s our cue, Alex.” She flashed a smile around the small group. “Can’t miss the judging since he has something in the contest.”
“Oh, what did you—” Raylene began.
“Later, y’all!” Greer said brightly and yanked Alex out of the circle.
He glanced back at the ladies one last time to find them chatting and smiling. Raylene sent him a little finger wave. Lord, he’d never seen such pleasant piranhas in his life. But with Greer leading him along like a donkey through the crowd, the women were soon out of sight.
Greer glanced back over her shoulder, her mouth tight.
“When I said you should socialize, I didn’t mean you should parade our private lives around.
Even though the other contest participants know I’m not the final judge of the art, it could throw a shadow over the whole thing.
Besides, you don’t even believe in the boots. ”
He stopped, dug in his heels, which brought her to a skidding halt.
Although he didn’t manhandle her the way she’d been dragging him through people, when he drew on her hand, there was no question who was in charge.
“Don’t tell me what I believe. And do you think I was the one over there picking out bouquets and cake flavors? ”
Suddenly, the angry look on her face melted to something softer and sadder. She was hurt. “No, because that would mean you wanted to be part of not only a relationship but a community. And we both know how you feel about that.”
He made a show of looking around the covered area at all the people. “I’m trying here, exactly what you wanted me to do.”
Her head dipped, and she shook it as though trying to shoo away a bug or a particularly disturbing thought. When she lifted it again, she said, “I don’t like it when other people start picking apart my plans, deciding they know better than I do.”
Alex pulled her closer, into a tight circle where they were the only two people who existed. He tilted back her chin and gazed into her eyes. “No one back there was deciding anything for you. Believe me, I’ve only known you a few weeks and I recognize that you’re a bulldozer.”
Her eyes went squinty, which lightened everything inside Alex’s chest.
“Okay, maybe just a front loader.” Squinty became decidedly mean, and that made him grin. “Fine, then you’re no more intimidating than a riding lawn mower.”
“How did this conversation go from weddings to mowing equipment?”
He leaned down, rubbed his cheek against her hair, and said close to her ear. “Because you’re mad and there’s no reason to be.”
Her entire body relaxed. “This was supposed to be an opportunity for you to meet people, for them to get to know you.”
“Believe me, you may not like the conversation topic back there, but Raylene has introduced me around to more people than I can remember names for.”
“Hmm…I guess it doesn’t matter why they like you as long as they do.”
God, he hated that this competition had essentially become a popularity contest, one he had to win so he could save his brother.
“One minute until the judging,” the voice over the speaker said. “If you want a chance at buying the winning desserts, come to the judging table now.”
Greer went on tiptoe, skimmed a quick kiss across his cheek. Innocent, but it made Alex’s skin flare. He tightened his grip on her hand and shot a look back in the direction of the car. They could be at the barn and in his bed in less than fifteen minutes.
“I know that look,” she said. “And it’s not happening when you have smiling and socializing to do.”
Dammit. She was right.
She turned and took off again, so Alex followed her to a line of long tables piled with what had to be—on quick calculation—three hundred dessert dishes.
People were hovering, eyeing the platters of cookies, meringue-topped pies, and thick chocolate cakes.
Alex’s stomach growled, and Greer snickered.
“Hey,” he said, “I haven’t even gotten food yet and people have already moved on to the sweets.”
“Haven’t you ever heard that life is short and you should eat dessert first?”
That brought back the stabbing memory of Javi sitting on the counter licking the beaters after their mamá made marranitos.
They’d always fought like hell for those pig-shaped gingerbread cookies.
God knew Alex should’ve let Javi have them all.
“Seems kind of cruel to only let people look at them while a measly—” he counted the people seated behind the middle table, “—five people get a chance to sample everything.”
“Believe me, with all this, the judges barely take half a bite.”
“What’s the whole point?”
She stared up at him. “Bragging rights, of course.”
“No money?”
“Notoriety can be its own reward.”
“Judges,” the overhead voice boomed out again, “do we have the winners’ list?”
From his place at mid-table, Greer’s brother walked over and handed the emcee a piece of paper.
“Oh, ho.” The guy laughed. “Looks like a bit of an upset this year.”
A chatter wave rolled through the crowd, while Greer clapped her hands and bounced on her toes. “C’mon. Announce it already.”
“The fifth place ribbon goes to Nanny Callahan for her Neiman Marcus bars,” the emcee announced. A tiny silver-haired woman boogied through the crowd and went to stand to the left of the announcer’s podium.
Greer whispered, “She always finishes in the money.”
“Thought you said there weren’t any prizes.”
“Expression, Villanueva. This currency is more important than dollar bills.”