Page 51 of Hard to Love
And while he was at it, he’d take a little of Greer Maddox too.
Chapter Fifteen
When Alex finally got his body and his mind under control, he walked down to the main area of the barn to find at least fifty people buzzing around, the huge fans churning air between them, and another ten artists in line at Greer’s check-in table.
She was using her smartphone to register them for the event and snap a picture of each entrant. When Alex strolled up to the table, a dreadlocked woman stepped aside to reveal Chad Holcombe as the next in line.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The leather tooler was as slick a douchebag as Alex had ever met. The guy pushed his wavy blond hair back from his forehead to grin down at Greer, angling himself to present his good side like a male peacock might display his ass feathers.
Chad said, “Hey, sweetheart, where have you been all my life?”
Greer’s head rose slowly from where she was peering at her smartphone screen. “What did you just say?”
“Just that I’ve been missing out on a whole lot of beauty up until today.”
“And you are?”
“Chad Holcombe, the leather tooler you’ve been waiting for.”
She looked him over, but not in an I’m-attracted sort of way, more with a where’s-the-trashcan vibe. “We already have three leather toolers registered for the competition.”
“Since other artists were allowed to attend, I figured why not me.”
“Because Prophecy Boot Company already decided you weren’t the right tooler to do business with.”
“I’m not here for PBC,” he replied. “I’m here for you.”
Alex automatically stepped forward, his hands hanging like sledgehammer heads against his sides, until he was standing behind Greer’s right shoulder.
Holcombe shifted his focus from Greer’s tits to Alex, and his ladykiller grin tightened. “Villanueva, didn’t realize they had a dickhead box you could check off on the registration form.”
“Yeah, it was right under douchebag,” he said, keeping his tone light and friendly. “The one you marked.”
Greer half turned to look up at Alex. “I assume you two know each other.”
“Only so many people in the leather tooling trade,” Alex told her.
“Look,” Chad said, his volume increasing so there was no way people behind him in line could miss hearing him, “if you don’t really want the best artists to compete in this little shindig, then I’ll just take myself on home. But I’m sure a few of the arts councils will be interested to know you’ve already decided who’ll win.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Tension crawled over Alex’s scalp and settled in the area between his eyebrows.
“From the looks of you strolling out of some back room a minute ago, it sure looks like Miss Maddox has stacked the deck.”
The inflection the guy used implied Alex had already fucked his way into winning the grand prize, and although he couldn’t give a shit less what Holcombe thought of him, the prick wouldn’t get away with insulting Greer. Alex edged her aside and leaned on the registration table, lowering his voice so no one—not even Greer—could hear what he said to Holcombe. “You need to keep your assumptions to yourself. Because if you don’t, I’ll be happy to take them away from you.”
“Hey, there’s no need to get riled up. I just want to pay my entry fee and pick out a space.” Holcombe backed away a couple of steps, held his hands palm up as though Alex had just threatened to jump over the table and pound his ass into the ground. Which, come to think of it, he had in a pretty damn civilized way.
Catching him off guard, Greer hip-checked Alex out of the way. “Mr. Holcombe, I’ll be happy to accept your entry fee—in cash—and then you’re welcome to choose your space.”
He pulled off his wallet, peeled off a hundred from a wad of bills. “Here, darlin’, why don’t you just keep the change?” He quickly filled out the one-page registration form and strolled off.
“Greer, he’s—”
“I know exactly who he is. The spoiled son of Harvey Holcombe. He gave Delaney some grief when she told him he wasn’t one of the three finalists for the shop’s business. But I can’t turn him away from this competition without looking like I’ve somehow sandbagged the whole thing. We’ll just let it play out. He’s obviously a jerk.”
Thank God she saw through him. Then again, Greer was a sharp one.
