Batter of Wits (Green Valley Chronicles #22) - Smartypants Romance Page 0,102

I don’t know, I’m probably overthinking what I need to do to fix it.”

“You hurt her,” she clarified.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s what relationships are, Haywood. You hurt each other, you misunderstand each other, and sometimes you’re both wrong. But if you love someone, you forgive them, and you keep moving forward.”

Grace’s words flashed through my brain. “Forgiveness doesn’t always mean you’re willing to put yourself back in the line of fire though.”

“That’s true too.” She turned her walker and flipped the locks so she could use it as a seat. “Can I make an observation?”

“Could I stop you?”

Maxine snorted. “Probably not.”

“Then observe away.”

“You were with Miss MacIntyre for a long time. Formative relationship years. A lot of people around here get married in less time than the two of you dated, right?” But she held up a hand before I could answer, because clearly it was hypothetical. “The two of you together was like, being on a sailboat on a man-made lake. You know, the kind that rich people build their houses around? Pretty to look at, checks all the right boxes, but it’s a poor substitute to trying to sail on the ocean. No waves, no current to propel you forward, no wildness about it, even though it’s in the wilderness.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Sounds about right.”

“And you took your boat from that glass-smooth lake and dropped it into the ocean, son. You’re bound to move faster, risk more. When you mess up, the consequences are bigger, and every time you make a decision, you better be sure of it, because there’s a lot more riding on it.”

Grace as the ocean was appropriate, and it brought a sad smile to my face for the first time in a few days.

“And if I’m sticking with this analogy, because I’m pretty damn proud of it right now, you’ve never had to navigate anything like it before. Am I right?”

“Yes, ma’am, you are.”

“I told you to be careful, didn’t I?’

“Yes, ma’am,” I repeated. “I guess I’ll just come to you from now on when I need advice.”

She snorted. “Jesus be a fence, don’t do that. I’m old and cranky. I give terrible advice most days.”

I smiled at her. “No, you don’t.” I thought about the picture Grace took of Maxine, the sweetness behind it. The way she saw things that no one else did, it’s why Grace was good at what she did. Why her pictures were so beautiful. And it made me sad that those beautiful things made her feel even more separate. Like I had, by my selfish actions.

“Maybe you are overthinking it, Tucker. I don’t know. I don’t know what you did or how badly you screwed things up. But showing someone you love them isn’t complicated. Let them know they matter, and they’re seen for who they are. That what’s important to them is important to you.”

I’d been falling in love with her from the first, and I was so wrapped up in keeping things steady, not upsetting the waters around me, that I lost the ability to see just how badly I was hurting her.

Her. The one person I should have been protecting over anyone else.

“Why does it sound so simple when you say it?” I asked.

“Because I’m not stuck in the middle of it.” She gave me a shrewd look. “I don’t have skin in the game, Tucker. Whether you fix things with Grace makes no difference to me, but if she’s moping around like you are, then it probably warrants a conversation.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Before or after half the town lines up to kiss us?”

“Oh please, half those people will line up just to check her out. I picked you two for a reason, you know. Nothing draws a crowd better than something beautiful.”

A smile spread over my face before I could stop it.

“Ms. Barton, you are a genius.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “That so?”

I dropped a noisy kiss on her wrinkled cheek and grabbed my phone to call the one person I knew would help me. Even if it got my ass kicked in the process.

Chapter 28

Tucker

The back door on my childhood home squeaked loudly when you opened it too fast. Something I’d found out the hard way in high school when I was trying to sneak in past curfew.

But this time, entering my parents’ home, I was fine with my presence being announced before I step foot into the mudroom.

“In the kitchen,” my mom called out the moment my shoe touched the