Batter of Wits (Green Valley Chronicles #22) - Smartypants Romance Page 0,42

like your crazy," I admitted in a low voice. "Wherever it comes from."

She pulled in a shaky breath and held my gaze. The air between us crackled, the swirling portent to a wild storm. It lifted the hair on my arms, sent a shiver down the line of my back.

"You shouldn't," she whispered.

Before I could say another word—to take it back, or amend what I meant, even if I knew what that was—she turned and fled to the safety of her car. As she drove away, I kept my feet planted and my eyes on the car until it disappeared.

"What the hell just happened?" I whispered, spearing a hand into my hair and clutching painfully at the strands until my heart started to calm down.

And like I'd conjured the thought of her, Magnolia's face stomped straight into my head.

The girl I fell in love with, clashing painfully with the woman that I wasn't sure I really knew anymore.

Guilt was close on the heels of the thought of her, even though I'd done nothing to feel guilty about.

That's a lie, a voice whispered in the back of my head.

It was a lie, and I knew it. Because when Grace looked at me, eyes bright with tears, there wasn't a single thought in my head besides the overpowering need to comfort her, to wrap her in my arms, see if she smelled as good as the mountains towering over us, learn if her lips held the same fire as her eyes.

And if there was one thing I knew, even if I didn't love Magnolia the way she deserved, I respected her more than what I'd just shown.

With a deep breath, I pulled out my phone and pulled up her number. As it rang, a strange calm settled over me. If I never saw Grace again, this was the right thing to do.

"Hey," she answered brightly. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you."

I closed my eyes at the sound of her voice. "Have you left for work yet?"

"Not just yet. Daddy had a meeting with the mayor, so I was going to head in when he was done with that."

"Can I come over? There's something I need to talk to you about."

Magnolia was quiet for a second, and the calm I'd felt morphed into a quiet sadness, because even if she knew there something wrong, she wouldn't be expecting this.

"Sure," she said. "How long until you get here?"

"I'll be there in about ten minutes. I'm just out by the fairgrounds."

"See you soon."

After she hung up, I took a moment before I left.

I breathed in deeply, the fragrant, clean air filling my lungs, and I knew why I was doing this. Because for as long as I lived, that smell would remind me of the moment that I realized that I should fight for what I wanted in my life. And it would remind me of Grace Buchanan.

That's why I got in my truck and went to break my girlfriend's heart.

Chapter 13

Grace

“Hi, I made muffins. Can you call the bakery for me?”

On the other end of the phone, which was wedged in between my face and my shoulder, my cousin’s girlfriend attempted to politely stammer through her confusion.

“Grace?” Joss said. “It’s good to hear from you.”

The plate in my hand wobbled ominously as I balanced it on my palm. “Right. You too. Hope Seattle is great and you’re happy and in love and whatever and can you call them, please? Aunt Fran said you could call them to see if they’ll hire me.”

“And you … you bake now?” She cleared her throat delicately. “I didn’t know that.”

I gave up trying to balance everything and stopped to set the muffins on the trunk of someone’s car. The entrance to Donner Bakery stood like a green striped awning sentinel, welcoming me to a future where I wouldn’t constantly run into Tucker because I was taking pictures of every corner of Green Valley. If I could stick in one spot, maybe I’d see him just a bit less. I rubbed at my chest with my newly free hand.

Less was what I needed right now.

“It’s a new development,” I hedged.

New, as in, I ran home from the fairgrounds, felt abject panic welling up within the confines of my weak mortal flesh, and felt the unfettered desire to do something. Fran and Robert were gone, and the first thing my eyes landed on in their kitchen was the giant, gleaming KitchenAid mixer in the corner.

How hard could it be,

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