Page 110 of Hard to Love
Greer took his prophecy boots from his hands and placed them on the ground. Somehow, standing there in his sock feet was the most intimate, most nakedly vulnerable thing he’d ever done. He took a deep breath of clean, small-town air and linked one hand with Greer’s.
When he stepped into the first boot, it was like a religious experience. Like slipping into a lake full of holy, cleansing water. The leather hugged his foot like a mamá’sarms. He glanced up at Greer to find her biting her bottom lip. “You okay with this?”
“I’m so okay with it that I’m shaking with the need to push you down on your butt and shove that boot on your foot.”
“I don’t think it’s supposed to work that way.” So he drew her to the ground, pulling her into the vee of his outstretched legs. He held out the boot to her, and she hooked her fingers in the pull straps. Then he covered her hands with his and, together, they pulled the boot onto his left foot. “I think it’s supposed to work this way.”
Greer twisted in his arms and flung herself against him, shoving him to the ground so they lay in the grass in one big heap of twined arms, legs, and prophecy boots. “Do you feel any different?”
“No, I feel exactly the way I have since I met you, Greer Maddox—like I’ve found the woman who makes me a whole man.”
Her kiss, when it came, tasted like sweet redemption.
