Page 18 of Hard to Love
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 alefty, 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.”
