Batter of Wits (Green Valley Chronicles #22) - Smartypants Romance Page 0,27

talk about my job, unless it somehow impacted her family. And that happened from time to time, given that my father had been the MacIntyre's family attorney for as long as Maggie and I had been together.

It was a strange feeling, to recognize just how superfluous you'd become in your own relationship. And I wasn't entirely sure what it was about tonight that made it so apparent.

Our routine had been our routine for so long, I hardly noticed it anymore.

Even though in the years since we'd been together, we both went to college, moved out of our parent's houses, and began careers that had been set out in front of us, the basis of our relationship had stayed the same. We had official date night twice a week, out to dinner and then dessert somewhere else in town. I'd drive her back to her place, where I usually spent the night.

The topics of conversation were the same two or three, on rotation.

I set my fork down and leaned back in my chair while she told a story of something that happened at work. Her arms were moving, her eyes bright and mouth smiling, and I had no earthly clue what she was saying.

Briefly, I wondered what my face looked like as I sat across from her, because it seemed as though my thoughts should be stamped over my face with perfect clarity.

If it was like this now, what might it turn into if we ever got married?

Maggie and I were both twenty-five, and according to her plan, she'd take a handful of years after college to solidify her career with her dad before she was ready to get married.

After marriage, we’d wait a respectable two years before adding children into the mix. Probably two of those, since Maggie and I were both only children, and we both fully understood the pressure that came with being the sole recipient of your parents’ attention.

She paused her story when the waiter came to our table to refill our waters. Maggie lifted her wine glass and asked sweetly for more chardonnay. I shook my head when he asked if I needed another glass as well.

I didn't really like wine.

I'd never liked wine.

So I handed him the half-full glass. "I'll have a whiskey," I told him. "Neat."

"Of course."

As he walked away, Maggie lifted her eyebrows. "Since when do you drink whiskey?"

I sighed at her tone. "Since now, I guess. It sounds good after my day today."

She rubbed her glossy pink lips together and peered at my face.

Ask me, I thought. Ask me what happened in my day that made me want to drink a whiskey. I wasn't even entirely sure how I'd answer if she asked, because so much of what felt off about me tonight stemmed from a small handful of moments with a woman who couldn't stand the sight of me. But still, even with that, I wanted my girlfriend of seven years to ask me, to show me that she cared about the things I was thinking, about what I wanted, what I was going through.

"Hmmm."

That was it.

The disappointment hit me like a wall of water to the face, and it was all I could do from sputtering for a solid breath.

A strange desire to push her, push against the routine, came quick and hot, right on its heels. "Just hmm?"

She fidgeted with the handle of her fork. "You're a grown man. It's not my place to ask."

"You're my girlfriend, Magnolia. If it's not your place, whose is it?" I kept my tone gentle, but her cheeks colored slightly nonetheless.

"What's gotten into you?" she asked quietly. Her eyes darted to the other tables, like she was afraid someone could hear us. "Is this why you hiked this afternoon instead of working?"

I shook my head. "No, that was me doing someone a favor. I just tagged along because I wanted to."

The waiter returned with her wine and my whiskey, and we both murmured a thank you before he walked away. Magnolia picked up her wine and took a small sip, rolling it around in her mouth before she swallowed.

I leaned back in my chair. "Remember me telling you about Fran and Robert's niece?"

In a blink, her eyes got cooler, a sheet of ice over the warm golden color. "I remember. The one Scotia saw in your truck."

I nodded. "That's the one. Maxine has us working on a project together for the chicken festival. While we were meeting, she got a call from her