Page 16 of Hard to Love
An older gentleman in a beat-up pickup with the backend full of scruffy goats stopped to idle mid-street and called to her, “Greer, you doin’ okay?”
Translation:Is the scary-looking guy bothering you?
She gave him a casual wave. “Everything’s great. Thanks, Mr. McCormick.”
The man gave Alex a look that said he’d haul ass out of that truck and let his attack goats free on Alex’s ass if given the slightest reason. Finally, he nodded and touched a hand to his dirty baseball cap, then he drove on.
As soon as he was gone, Greer jumped to her feet, bracing one foot against the bench and wrestling the hem of her jeans up her calf. “Take a good look at what I got today. If prophecy boots are such a scam, what would you call these?”
A freaking masterpiece. Alex couldn’t help himself. Heleaned closer to inspect the detailed stitching and inlay, and the scent of quality leather drifted toward him. Better than the most expensive perfume in the world, the smell of leather was earthy and real.
And on Greer, real sexy.
Today, he felt its impact in his gut and in his groin.
Leather didn’t normally turn him on quite like this, but the scent of rich calfskin combined with Greer’s own warm beeswax fragrance went straight from his nose to his dick.
And the curve of her tanned calf peeking from above the boot’s collar didn’t help the situation. He wanted to reach out and trace the muscle with his fingers. Hell, with his tongue.
Instead, he tried to concentrate on the boots themselves. The dice were tiny works of art. He didn’t do inlay himself, but he knew how damn hard they must’ve been to pull off. “Delaney made these?”
“Yes.” Interesting. Her voice was more than a little husky. Was she feeling the same pull he was or had he asked an uncomfortable question?
“She’s incredibly talented.”
“It’s more than talent. It’s a God-given gift that allowed her to make me this kickass pair of boots.”
He snorted. “Kickass magic boots?”
“Do you believe that we all have a life we’re supposed to live? A person we’re supposed to live it with?”
“You mean like predetermined fate?” His mamá always said God had a plan for every man and woman, but Alex had a hard time swallowing that God had planned for him to destroy his family.
“Like your best possible future. Your true love. That’s what these boots are all about.”
One thing Alex knew for certain was that God didn’tgive a shit about bestowing him with some rosy future or an amazing woman to share it with. Why would he when Alex couldn’t take care of the lives that had already been entrusted to him? “Not much for all that touchy-feely crap.”
“Then I guess you don’t want to hear that when Delaney draws a baby’s boots, she also sketches another pair.”
“Buy one, get one? Oh, yeah, you don’t charge for them.”
“There’s no price on love, on finding your soul mate.”
He did a chin lift toward her feet. “Those don’t exactly show a cute little house, three kids, and a dog.”
“They’re a metaphorical representation of the future. If they told the literal story, it would be too easy. There would be no mystery.”
Sounded like an opportunity for people to say their boots meant anything they wanted them to. Great job. Pretty wife. Bright future.
Or maybe just an opportunity to twist those images to justify their crappy decisions and selfish actions.
Yeah, Alex had done enough of that in his life to know what a sticky pile of shit it was. No matter what you told yourself, it still stunk.
But that didn’t stop him from tracing the curve of the heart camouflaged inside the boot’s overarching design, the leather smooth and warm under his touch. Would Greer’s skin feel just as sensuous?
He would never know, because with her unspoiled beauty and her unflagging belief in people, she was the classic girl next door. He had no business making a move that way. At best, he was a slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am guy. At worst, he was a heartless prick. Not exactly catnip for a woman like this. She deserved the house, the kids, thedog, all of it with a guy who didn’t lug around his baggage like an oversized carryon. “The work itself is amazing, but that’s all.”
Greer shook down the leg of her jeans and stomped twice to force the hem over her boot heel. “Anyone ever point out that you’re a cynic?”
