Batter of Wits (Green Valley Chronicles #22) - Smartypants Romance Page 0,84

old woman in Green Valley will stand in your lines, they won't care if they can get it for five bucks on a street corner in Nashville." She pointed a finger. "And I promise you, they will try to grab your ass, Tucker Haywood. I'd bet every red cent in my bank account on it."

"Not if you tell them not to."

She hooted. "Oh honey, the old biddies in this town won't listen to me if I had a bullhorn to their ears. We don't get much excitement anymore in our lives, so we take it where we can get it."

"And that involves public groping?" I asked dryly.

"Calm your feathers, Haywood. I'm just messing with you. There'll be a booth separating you, all you have to do is lean across it and peck some old women on their cheeks. You'll live. So will Grace."

The thought of her having dozens of men lining up in front of her had my hands curling up into fists underneath the table. "I know we will."

"I'm fine with your setup, and you two will probably make us a fortune."

I held up my hands. "It was Grace's idea. I wish I could take the credit."

"How's she doing?" Maxine asked, all innocence and wide, guileless eyes. Such utter horseshit.

I slowly raised an eyebrow. If she was trying to bait me, she'd have to try harder than that.

"I hired her to take some photographs at my family reunion a couple of weeks ago." She sipped her coffee. "Girl's got more talent in her pinky than most people do in their entire body."

Pride suffused me in a warm rush. It was the truth. While Grace edited the pictures from Maxine's family party, I had laid stretched out next to her on my couch, watching in awe as she worked. She saw things with that camera that most people didn't, which was probably true of any good photographer.

There were so many good shots, laughter and smiles, nothing posed, nothing fake.

"She got some great ones of my grandsons, even made my kids look like normal, well-adjusted people."

I smiled. I knew exactly which ones she was talking about.

But the one that should be blown up and framed was a shot she snapped of Maxine and her great-niece. The little girl was standing in front of Maxine, who was perched in her walker, a plastic bubble wand held up to her pursed lips. The bubble was perfectly formed, still clinging stubbornly to the circular edge, and the child, no more than four or five, was holding her hands up, grinning happily in anticipation.

"But of everything she sent me, the one with the bubbles was my favorite," Maxine continued.

"Mine too," I answered without thinking. When I froze, her face spread in a triumphant smile.

"I might be old, but I am not slow, young man. When I saw you walk into that library, I knew it."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Miss Barton."

She waved a hand. "What do you think I'm gonna do, take out a billboard?"

Sitting back in my chair, I regarded her steadily. Did I trust her with this? Yeah, I did. But that wasn't the point. If she saw through us that easily, then other people would too.

It wasn't surprising, after just a few weeks with Grace, my feelings for her felt like they were tattooed on my damn forehead as obvious as they seemed. We'd spent two nights apart in the last fourteen days. And those two nights sucked. My bed felt empty. I'd tossed and turned more than usual without her anchoring me in place.

And yet, I couldn’t walk down Main Street with her without feeling like we’d have a target on our backs. The thought of her finding out about J.T. and what he did to my father was something I hadn’t been able to puzzle through in my head.

My brain conjured all the worst possible scenarios, the most horrible being she’d break up with me out of some misplaced sense of guilt. I’d rather carry the weight of what happened until I could tell her at the right time.

Besides, as Maxine was proving, it wasn’t the only issue we had to worry about.

"First of all, she looks at you like she wants to eat you alive," Maxine said, making my face flush hot. "You do a little bit better job keeping your feelings off your face than Grace does, but your eyes … they follow her around when you think no one is paying attention."

I exhaled softly. "Can't

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