Batter of Wits (Green Valley Chronicles #22) - Smartypants Romance Page 0,64

because she exhaled a laugh. I kissed her again because I couldn't not kiss her. "Just to let things settle a little bit before we start making out on the corner of Main Street."

A smile spread over her face like the sunrise, slow and sweet and bright at the edges. "Okay." She lifted on the balls of her feet and kissed the side of my mouth. "Grady told me about a sushi place in Knoxville. Do you like sushi?"

For a split second, I was ready to tell her that anywhere she wanted to go was fine. It's what I would've always done. Instead, I cupped the side of her face and said, with as much feeling as I could muster, "I hate sushi."

She laughed. "Okay then. No raw fish for you, big boy."

"Grace Bailey," Fran said, her voice just around the corner from the tree, "my covert skills only go so far, young lady."

Grace sighed and pecked me on the lips again. "See you in there, champ."

She snuck out underneath my arm, where I had it braced on the tree. I counted to twenty, then recited multiplication tables in my head until I could walk without an obvious limp.

When I entered the gym, I stopped short. In my stolen minutes with Grace, I'd missed a few arrivals. Namely, J.T. MacIntyre, who was sitting right next to a scowling Maxine Barton.

They saw me at the same time, Maxine exhaling in relief, J.T. scowling in my direction.

"Where've you been?" he asked. "Your truck was parked when I got here."

I kept my eyes firmly on J.T. as I sat in one of the too-small metal chairs. Grace and Francine were opposite of me, which probably wasn't a smart idea, as I struggled to keep my gaze from her.

"Client phone call came in right as I got out of my truck," I said easily. "Can't have confidential conversations within earshot of this fine group, now can I?"

J.T. grimaced, because he knew he couldn't argue.

"What, exactly, are you doing here, Mr. President?" Maxine asked, her tone as tart as a fresh lemon. "You've never deigned to grace us with your presence before."

He sat back in the chair and folded his arms over his chest. "The chamber of commerce is the single largest sponsor of the Headless Chicken Festival, isn't it? Thought I'd make sure my investment is being taken care of."

Oh, it was so pointed. And juvenile.

This man would need a lobotomy to get over his anger with me.

"Lord," Maxine grumbled. "Might as well piss on the table and get it over with, J.T."

"Excuse me?"

She waved a gnarled hand in my direction. "You. Him. We all know what happened. The problem is that you're bringing it somewhere it doesn't need to be, and that gets my panties in a wad, because this is my meeting, my committee, and not a lick of it has to do with your daughter's broken heart."

J.T. sputtered, and I probably would've thought the whole thing humorous, if Grace wasn't witnessing it.

"Maxine," J.T. said when he'd recovered, trying a different tactic than muscle. His voice was as slick and silky as a snake. "You know you're the best thing that ever happened to this festival. I just wanted to see how you do it is all. Nobody has ever been able to come close."

A few ladies at the table rolled their eyes, too old to be fooled by this side of him. Maxine's facial expression never even came close to wavering. She was iron and steel, voice dry when she spoke.

"If I wanted flattery, I'd have a man come to my house in the middle of the night." She laid her hands flat on the table and leaned in his direction. "If you wouldn't mind terribly, I'd prefer you get the hell out of my meeting and let me spend all your important money in peace, okay? You've never looked over my shoulder before, and I don't plan on allowing you to start today."

J.T. caught my eye and the stubborn set of his jaw made me shift in my seat. But given that he was outmaneuvered by Maxine, he had no choice but to leave. After a long glance around the table, his eyes only stopping once—on Grace—he left. Allowing myself one look, I glanced in her direction, and she was staring directly at the surface of the table.

Suddenly, Knoxville didn't seem far enough away for our first date.

Chapter 18

Grace

For first dates, the boots stayed home. And the look in Tucker's