Sweet Joymaker (Indigo Bay Christmas Romances #3) - Jean Oram Page 0,21
sudden bout of nerves.
What was she doing? Was Clint going to expect her to create something amazing? She’d never painted on glass before, and wasn’t sure how the curved surface would affect whatever she attempted.
“Hello! Are you new to town?” an older woman with unnatural blond hair asked. She seemed to be looking down her nose, even though technically she wasn’t. In her lap was a large purse with a small, fluffy white dog inside.
“Hello, Miss Lucille,” Maria said.
“We’ve met?”
“At the Morrison Mansion Bed and Breakfast.”
“Oh, yes. The two of you are working on the death trap. The gala and silent auction are only days away, you know.” She eyed the glass of wine in Maria’s hand, which was now half-empty. Then her gaze dropped to the ornaments on the table in front of Maria and Clint, as though she would be judging their painting ability.
“What an adorable dog,” Clint said. “What’s his name?”
“This is Princess,” she said, bristling. “Her collar matches my shoes. And she is obviously a female!”
“My apologies,” Clint said mildly.
“She’s adorable,” Maria stated politely.
“We coordinate every day. Hardly anyone notices,” the woman sniffed.
“I’m Maria Wylder and this is Clint Walker,” Maria said, feeling as though introductions should be made again.
“Taking your husband’s last name is a sign of respect. It’s the proper thing to do, you know.”
“We’re not married yet,” Clint said smoothly. He leaned across Maria to shake the woman’s hand, resting his left palm on Maria’s shoulder blade and sending warmth through her body. “But I’m working on it.” He gave the older woman a wink.
Miss Lucille bristled. “Are you a late bloomer or did you already leave your first wife?”
An involuntary gasp left Maria’s lips, but Clint just smiled. “I’ll have to tell you all about it later. But I’m here until Thursday night, then little elves are going to whisk me back to Texas.”
The woman’s expression grew stern and she turned away as their instructor began introducing herself.
“You moved your flight?” Maria felt a thrill zip through her.
He nodded as a woman on the other side of him gave in to giggles she’d been trying to stifle. When she regained control she whispered, “Sorry, my aunt can be a bit much.” She gestured to Miss Lucille.
“Oh, did you want to sit beside her?” Clint shifted instantly, ready to move, but the woman shook her head, eyes wide.
“No, that’s okay,” she said too brightly. “I’m Maggie.”
Clint and Maria whispered their own introductions while trying to simultaneously listen to the instructor. She was saying something about the kind of paint they’d be using and how long it would take to dry. Quite quickly, by the sound of things. That would make blending colors a trick and a half.
Miss Lucille gave a loud, harsh “Shh!” at the end of their introductions.
“Sorry!” both Maria and Clint chirped. Maria dived into her wineglass and noticed Clint did the same. When his eyes cut to hers over the rim of it the giggle that had been building inside her escaped, drawing another shushing sound from Miss Lucille. Maria shut her eyes, tightening her lips as she tried to hold back her laughter.
She could not look at Clint. Could not. She’d never stop laughing.
She looked.
His eyebrows danced, and she lost control, a loud bark of laughter startling the class.
“Sorry!”
“How much have you had?” Clint whispered, his shoulder pressing against hers as he checked out her wineglass.
She giggled, her face burning. “We should leave.”
“No way. This is just getting good, girl.”
“I’m hardly a girl.”
“You’re blushing like one.”
“It’s embarrassment.”
“Would the two of you be quiet already?” Miss Lucille snapped. The woman in a sweater set across from her gave them a look of intense disapproval.
“Come sit over here,” called a man from another table. He and his girlfriend shuffled their chairs to make room despite the crowd at their table.
Clint was up in a second, collecting their glasses in one hand, their chairs in the other. He hurried over, whispering, “Is this the fun table?” He hunched low as he set down their glasses.
Several people nodded, grins on their faces.
“Great.” He pulled out Maria’s chair and she sat, feeling both embarrassed by her outburst and full of energy. She wanted to be silly and to laugh at ridiculous things all day.
“How am I going to sit still for this?” she asked, staring at the glass ball in her hands.
“Drink more wine.”
“I don’t have any ideas for this ornament.”
Clint reached over with a brush dipped in green paint and slashed a mark