Page 6 of Hard to Love
With a quick smile, Delaney said, “My Aunt Raylene owns a great bed-and-breakfast right here in town.”
Shit. Those were fancy places that cost out the ass. Besides, the toothpick furniture in them made him feel like a water buffalo at a tea party. “I’m sure she doesn’t have room—”
Delaney grabbed her phone off the table and punched a button. “Aunt Ray? You have space for another person for afew days?”
A few days meant they weren’t planning to hurry this decision. Dammit, coming here had been a risk in the first place. Being this close to San Antonio, this close to his past, made him twitchy.
“Great, I’ll send Alex Villanueva right over. How will you know him?” She scanned Alex from his shirt collar to the top of his head. “Oh, I’m pretty sure you’ll recognize him when he shows.” She hung up and smiled at him. “You’re all set.”
He fought against the need to close his eyes and wince. Damned if he wanted to ask this question, but he had to know. “Do you know how much she charges for—”
Delaney’s response was a dismissive hand wave. “Don’t worry about it. You’re here for the boot shop. We’ll pick up the expense.”
One thing the Villanuevas had never done was take charity, and he wouldn’t start now. His parents, unlike those of many of his childhood friends back in the old neighborhood, had always held jobs. His mamá as a teacher, and his papá as the owner of a one-truck fill dirt company. Even after his papá had been killed when his dump truck rolled, they’d done okay.
Until Alex fucked all that up.
So hell if he’d let these two women pay his way now.
“You’ll like Raylene,” Greer said. “In fact, if you give it a chance, I think you’ll like everything about Prophecy.”
He didn’t bother to tell her he couldn’t afford to like Prophecy or anyone in it. “I appreciate the hospitality.”
Delaney stood and he followed suit, nodding toward the papers he’d brought. “Want to keep those for now?”
“Sure, but what I’d really like is for you to work up a couple of designs, something that would be exclusive toPBC. Do you have another sketch pad?”
“Don’t go anywhere without two.”
“You know what, Alex?” Delaney smiled and escorted him toward the front door. “I think you and I are going to get along great.”
He was reaching for the doorknob when another man walked in and gave Alex the what-the-fuck? eyeball. The guy was a little taller than him, but not quite as broad in the shoulders. Alex knew another ass-kicker when he saw one, and his body immediately primed for some down-and-dirty street fighting, muscles tensing and adrenaline flowing.
Then Delaney broke away from him to wrap her arms around the other guy and stare up at him with obvious love. “Cal, this is Alex Villanueva. The tooler I mentioned to you. He’s headed over to Raylene’s place to stay a few days while we make the decision.”
The tension around the guy’s eyes eased a little, and he did the man-chin-raise that saidwhat’s up. “Cal Maddox.”
“Nice place your family has here. Look forward to hearing back about the contract.” Alex stepped around the couple and out onto the sidewalk, finally able to fill his lungs again for the first time since he’d spotted Greer Maddox smiling and waving that fan belt.
What he’d thought would be a simple business meeting had suddenly turned more complicated. His intuition, which had kept him out of a hole in the ground more than once, whispered that Prophecy and the people here could either help him turn his life around or finish fucking it up.
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.
