Page 74 of Hard to Love
“The PTO is hosting a community potluck fundraiser this weekend,” Lily chimed in. “Why don’t you bring him to that?”
Greer tried to picture Alex at an event with people milling around everywhere. Hard to imagine, but she had to try. “What if he says no?”
“Seriously, when have you ever let a littlenostop you before?” Delaney asked. “If you care about him—not only his talent and what he can do for Wild Card—but him as a man, then you owe him the opportunity to fall in love with Prophecy.”
Only problem was whether or not she could get him to fall in love with her.
The next timeAlex saw Greer she acted as though she’d forgotten their argument at the church, like neither of them had been out of sorts. This, in combination with the please-please-please smile she flashed him, threw Alex so off balance that he agreed to go to some damn potluck with her.
He should’ve said no. He needed to rest. Needed to sketch more designs because he wasn’t happy with a damn thing he’d tooled so far. And there were only two days left until the project submission and final judging.
But here he was, staring out her front windshield at a park pavilion crammed with what looked like every resident of Prophecy and the surrounding counties. Kids were chasing one another, cracking confetti eggs over oneanother’s heads.
Greer reached over and squeezed his arm. “It’s a picnic, not an execution.”
Most of his mamá’s side of the family lived in San Antonio, so back when he was a kid, they’d often had gatherings at public parks. But that was before his papá died and everything changed in the Villanueva household. “You know I’m not good with people.”
She looked at him from the corner of her eye and batted her lashes like a cartoon bombshell. “I can testify that you’re excellent with some people.”
“So you want me to get personal and naked with your neighbors?”
“That’s fine with me,” she said sweetly, “as long as you can be happy without your testicles.”
His hand automatically shot to his crotch, and she laughed, a low, wicked sound that made him want to get personally naked with her right here in the car.
“C’mon. If it’s too painful, we can leave in an hour.” She hopped out of the car and pulled something from the backseat. Something that looked like the platter that had been sitting on his fridge’s top shelf this morning. She hadn’t run back inside to use his bathroom. She’d ripped him off. She caught his look over the car’s roof. “Hey, it’s a potluck. I had to bring something.”
He followed her to the covered area, trailing behind her a step to appreciate the way her hips swayed when she walked. Greer moved through the crowd of people with ease, smiling and waving, and he slipped through in her wake.
Until he happened upon Cal Maddox. “Villanueva.” He pointed to a nearby table. “Why don’t we sit a spell?”
They sat and Cal scooted a red plastic cup toward him. “Good news is Henry McCormick always brings a keg in the back of his truck. Usually some cheap, weak shit, but beer’s beer.”
Alex had never been so happy for a cup full of what looked like watered-down piss in his life. He took a long swallow, hoping it would unstick his dry tongue from the top of his mouth.
“So,” Cal said, looking down into his own cup, “I think it’s time we talked about exactly what you’re doing with my little sister.”
Alex’s fist clenched around his cup, making a popping sound with the plastic. “She’s an amazing woman.”
“And are you an amazing man? Because that’s what my sister deserves. Someone who will treasure her. Take care of her.”
Greer could more than take care of herself, but Alex understood what Cal was saying, that his sister deserved a man entirely different—better—than him. But that didn’t mean he’d give the guy the satisfaction of agreeing with him. “My papá used to say that a self-made man was worth a hundred who’d been given a leg up in this world.”
“And do you consider yourself a self-made man, Villanueva?”
“I’m working on it.”
Cal made a gesture toward the others at the picnic. “Prophecy is Greer’s home. You can’t even think of having one without the other.”
“I think…” Alex sat back and considered before continuing. “I think Prophecy is the kind of place where history means something to people. Where intention is often the measure of a man or woman. The kind of place where a parent is happy to see his children come back and settle down to raise their own families. The kind of place where folks will give their own the benefit of the doubt but make an outsider prove himself.”
“And what about Wild Card?”
“Greer is insanely smart, doing something for this town it hasn’t been completely able to do for itself. Yes, in part, she’s creating that village for herself and for the artists, because she believes in the power of art.” Alex sat back, stared at his cup, turning it in restless circles. Then he lifted his gaze to pin it on his lover’s brother. “But she feels like she needs to prove something to you. And to the entire town of Prophecy.”
“She doesn’t need to prove a damn thing to me.”
“You do realize she’s been trying, all her life, to create something that’s as important as what she believes PBC does.”
