Batter of Wits (Green Valley Chronicles #22) - Smartypants Romance Page 0,1

want to make that trip by yourself?"

"Car won't drive itself." I picked at a loose thread on my jean shorts. "It'll be fine. I've got some audiobooks loaded up, and a new EP to listen to. I’ll have three days to ponder what I want to do with my life, since I find myself without anything to do all day."

“We make jokes about being fired now?”

“No,” I drawled. “But if I don’t joke about it, I’ll feel hopeless and frustrated and like I can’t do anything right.”

“That is something I’d like to avoid too. We’ll all suffer if that’s the case.”

The laugh burst out of me helplessly, because I couldn’t even deny the truth of it. My moods had a tendency to … well … spill over from the inside out. Anything I felt showed on my face, and once it showed on my face, the words were coming out of my mouth.

“Imagining me crying in the car for three days straight, are you?” I asked.

When he didn't answer, I sighed.

"It'll be fine. Besides, what could possibly go wrong, when I'm on my way to Tennessee to fall madly in love with the man of my dreams, who will fall prostrate in front of me, because we're destined to be together?"

He laughed. "All right, all right, I'll stop fussin'. Just … drive careful, okay? I've only got one daughter."

I grinned. "Pops, when I get there, Tennessee won't know what hit it."

"That's my girl," he said proudly.

That family love curse bullshit could kiss my ass.

Months later, I could recall having that thought as clear as if it happened yesterday.

Of course, what I couldn’t have possibly known then was that I wouldn’t have any choice in how the Buchanan curse affected me. How differently things would turn out for me than they did for the rest of my family. They got heart eyes and love at first sight, a soul-deep recognition of their heart’s perfect match.

Not me, though.

Oh no, the family love curse kicked my ass, and there was nothing I could’ve done about it.

Chapter 1

Grace

“Motherfucking son of a bitch deserted ass backwoods southern roads," I yelled skyward. For good measure, I smacked the hood of my stupid useless car.

Not that I believed in them, but this was not a good sign. And of course, this happened to me. Not Grady, who'd know what was wrong with his car. Me.

I couldn't tell a socket wrench from a tube sock.

The move to Tennessee was about a fresh start, and this bullshit was not what I had in mind.

Trees everywhere.

Mosquitoes everywhere, I thought grimly, right after I smacked a monster one off my arm.

Poorly marked roads everywhere.

The one thing that was not everywhere was a strong cell signal. I would've smacked my now useless cell phone against the hood of the car too, but I couldn't risk it breaking, as it was my one connection to any sort of civilization.

If I closed my eyes and harnessed my very active imagination, I could pretend like I was in a really good session of hot yoga. Channel my breathing, turn my focus inward, and allow the stress of the moment to fall away.

The frustrated burn of tears along the bridge of my nose is what broke that little fantasy.

I didn't know where I was.

I didn't know what was wrong with my car, loaded down with every earthly possession I owned.

I didn't know how far away I was from Green Valley, so it's not like I could start walking.

And now, I was waiting for a serial killer to pop out of the woods and chop me up into little pieces. Sliding my hand into the front pocket of my frayed jean shorts, I stroked the edge of my pepper spray.

I might've been stranded in the middle of nowhere, but I was no idiot, okay?

I blew out another slow breath and held my cell phone up in the air, desperately wishing for one teeny tiny bar of service to appear so I could call Aunt Fran. It's not like my brother would be much help. Grady was one day behind me, after some weird techie blah blah emergency at work held up his departure.

No big deal, I'd said. I can drive by myself, I'd said. Who needs to caravan in the day and age of Waze? I'd said.

An exhausted laugh burst out of me, and I tipped my head back, let the sun beat down on my face and shoulders. At least I had the sun. If it