Batter of Wits (Green Valley Chronicles #22) - Smartypants Romance Page 0,88

plan, but I couldn't imagine it.

Coming through downtown, I had to slow for a group of students while they crossed the road with armfuls of fliers about the festival, fluorescent blue with black letters, that would eventually find their way into storefront windows, into mailboxes, and onto street corner poles.

Main Street was gearing up for the festivities as well, banners being strung across the street, white and blue, the strangely cheery logo of the chicken without a head everywhere I looked. Poor Clarence. All he did was try to live his life, until one day, some hungry farmer wanted fried chicken. Next thing he knew, he met the sharp edge of a terribly aimed ax.

For the next eighteen months, as Maxine had gleefully explained to me, Clarence was fed through the opening at the top of his severed head—no eyes, no beak, just a body and neck and worldwide notoriety for the rest of eternity. Or Green Valley notoriety, at least.

The fact that I could smile about it now was proof that this place was getting to me. The only thing I wished, now that I was past the business-lined streets and sidewalks, was that they looked at me and smiled in recognition. That I’d get a few friendly waves.

Find someone that I could meet for a beer too.

After a few weeks, the way their lives unfolded in this strange little place didn't seem so insane to me anymore. None of it did.

The motorcycles roaring through town, black leather cuts proclaiming them members of the Wraiths.

The way everyone knew everyone's business and had zero compunction discussing it in public.

The flow to how they spoke and lived their lives, a viewpoint that was so completely different to the way I'd been raised and the life that I'd lived before.

At first, the pictures I was taking of them were like a study of something that I didn’t really understand. Now, I could look at them and feel the warm pang of recognition, a pattern that brought comfort, even if I hadn’t quite found my place within the world I was documenting.

But I would. Tucker and I would, too.

Once we cleared a few small hurdles, we’d be able to walk down the street with our hands clasped. We could eat in Green Valley, not drive to Maryville or Knoxville every time we wanted to go out for dinner.

There was no way he didn’t want that just as badly as I did.

I turned into his driveway and took the gentle curve toward the house, where he was climbing out the truck, unfolding his great, big body to his full height.

The look on his face was something that might have intimidated me a few weeks ago, when I still didn't understand how deeply I loved him. His entire being relaxed when I smiled at him. His shoulders loosened, and the crease between his eyebrows smoothed. The tight line of his mouth softened.

Before Tucker, I never felt the need to be needed by someone, and certainly not to this level. Where my mere presence would have such a tangible effect on him.

And I loved it.

I loved how he wrapped me in his arms before my feet could hardly touch the ground, how his mouth found mine with unerring accuracy.

"I needed this," he murmured against my lips, pulling them with his own and resting his forehead against mine.

"What happened?" I dug my fingers into his thick, soft hair and tugged until I could see him.

The strength in his hands around my hips was its own life force. As big as he was standing in front of me. On instinct, my back arched into a graceful curve, like he was bending me to his will.

There was an edge, something sharp and hot, that I'd never felt from him before.

But he didn't answer.

Tucker stared at my mouth, thumbs pressing into my flesh, making me swallow the tension building in my throat.

"Maxine ruin your good mood?" I asked.

He gave me a flash of a crooked grin, just enough that I felt my heart ease at the sight of it. "You know what, Sexy Girl, I don't really feel much like talking anymore."

His hands slid down, firm and sure, until he wrenched my hips tight against his. I inhaled sharply at how quickly he wanted me. One kiss and he was ready. One kiss and I was ready too.

"I'm gross from my hike."

"You're not gross," he protested, nibbling along my jaw.

"Liar." My hands tugged at his dress shirt, clean and crisp,