Batter of Wits (Green Valley Chronicles #22) - Smartypants Romance Page 0,92

to my feet, a thoughtful frown turning the edges of her lips when she came back up.

“I’m sorry to intrude,” she said, visibly curling her mouth in the opposite direction, even if it looked a little forced. “I tried to call but … you didn’t answer.”

Tucker cleared his throat. “I, uh, I think it’s on the floor of my truck. Somewhere.”

The implication had my cheeks burning all over again. I took a step forward, releasing my hand from Tucker’s to hold it out to her. “I’m Grace. Grace Buchanan. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I didn’t even need her to love me right away. The best I could hope for, with my skin burning hot and my brain buzzing with just how much worse this could’ve been, I only had one clear thought.

Please, please don’t hate me forever because you found me screwing your son in his truck.

Her eyes were wide, her mouth open slightly, as she shook my hand. “Glenda Haywood.” She blinked a few times. Glenda had the same affliction that I did, her thoughts played out over her face like I was watching a movie on a big screen.

“Grace is,” Tucker started, then paused. I held my breath when he continued talking. Grace is what? “Grace is Glenn’s daughter. From California.”

Oh. Okay.

I had a blurry thought in my head that the angle I was standing wasn’t good if you needed to knee someone in the testicles. It was, however, fantastic so that he wouldn’t see the color drain from my face at the limp introduction.

Grace is Glenn’s daughter.

Not Grace is my girlfriend.

Grace is what makes me happy.

Grace is the one who has my heart.

Anything. Anything other than Grace is Glenn’s daughter.

My eyes were burning uncomfortably when I looked up at him, but he was eyeing his mother for her reaction.

“Oh Tucker,” she said softly.

But it wasn’t that soft, happy way that I was hoping for. I sniffed, tearing my gaze away from him and back to her. The thing playing over her face was clarity. Understanding.

Like a puzzle piece was finally set in place.

“This is why, isn’t it? It’s her.”

“Momma,” he said, holding up a hand. “I broke up with Maggie because it was the right thing to do.”

Her smile was soft too, like her voice, like the way she clasped her hands together. “I wish you’d told us. Everything would’ve made so much more sense.”

I kept my eyes down as she said it, because I wanted to scream, did you seriously not see that he was unhappy? But screaming at the mom would come later, like maybe when he and I were married and she judged my parenting choices or something.

Cart? Meet Horse. Please go back where you belong.

Tucker rubbed his forehead when his mom spoke again.

“Did Maggie know about her?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, voice rising as more words shot out of her mouth and landed somewhere in the vicinity of my heart. “Oh Tucker, I never thought you’d do something like this.”

So, this could feel worse. Right at the moment where she insinuated that he cheated on his girlfriend in a tone rife with disappointment.

“Momma, no offense, but I don’t have to defend my relationship choices to you, especially not when you’re making incorrect assumptions about what actually happened. I did not cheat on Magnolia, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

I wove my fingers through his and glanced up to his face. He was still looking at his mom, but he squeezed my hand.

“You’re right,” she said. “I’m not asking you to defend your relationship choices, but I damn well expect you to explain to me why I had to find out this way. Your father and I have a right to know about things that will affect us the way this has.”

My eyes shot to her.

“Momma,” Tucker said, voice low and full of warning. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like any of this.

“Don’t you Momma me, son.”

My eyebrows popped up. This was pissed off southern woman in all her righteous glory—my inaugural experience—and it made me want to run in the other direction.

“I will talk to you about this, but not right now, all right? It’s an awkward way for you to meet Grace, and I think she and I would like a few minutes to—”

“Get dressed?” she added. “Your fly is still undone, by the way.”

It wasn’t the way she said it that had my body recoiling, because her voice was as kind as possible in a situation like