Sweet Joymaker (Indigo Bay Christmas Romances #3) - Jean Oram Page 0,23
in the mirror?” Clint suggested. When she heaved an impatient sigh, he reached over to give her elbow a supportive squeeze. “Talk to me.”
“I’m too task-focused. I take myself and my life too seriously.”
She faced Clint for a long moment, as he studied her.
“Know what I see?” he asked, his voice gentle.
“Do I want to?” She wasn’t in the mood for compliments.
“I see a woman who puts pressure on herself to achieve and hold things together. And maybe she’s feeling a little lost because her place in the world doesn’t feel as make-it-or-break-it any longer. Her family’s grown up and fairly independent. A big slice of your identity was the boys, Maria. It makes sense that you’re wondering where you fit in now that they’re peering down the path toward starting their own families.”
She felt her eyes dampen.
“Hey…” Clint pulled her into a tight hug that felt like everything she needed. “It’s okay.”
“I know.”
“It’s just time to change gears.”
“But how?” She was still an important cog in the ranch’s operations, and didn’t want to give that up. But again, something was missing. Something felt overlooked.
“Like with the town library. I heard you helped Karen get the mental space to battle against Henry, who was standing in her way.” Clint released her enough to look at her. “In the old days you would have been up all night baking your amazing squares to sell in a fundraiser. But we’re old.”
“Don’t put me out to pasture!”
He chuckled, his gaze on her lips again, heat turning his brown eyes into depthless pools she wanted to explore.
“All I’m saying is that how we contribute is shifting. We have a novel kind of brawn now. It’s time to let the next generation pull the weight while we sit on our mountaintop and wait for them to need our insights.”
Maria laughed at the image of her sitting on a mountain like a wise old sage. Although she understood what he was saying. She used to run around baking and doing crazy amounts of labor for various fundraisers. This time, however, she’d stepped forward to advise and clear paths. It was still important work, and it was still support, just different. A different energy.
“It’s our time to slow down and enjoy life. Don’t you think?”
“But it’s hard.”
He smiled. “That’s because you’re amazing, and you’re wired to take charge and get things done.”
Maria rolled her eyes. “I’m boring. I painted the most boring scene on that ornament.”
“You take any task given to you very seriously, and that’s appreciated by everyone you work with. But you know what else I see?”
“Hmm?”
“This Maria Wylder chick can also turn around and tease someone else until they beg for mercy.”
“I don’t see anyone begging.”
“I’m begging, Maria.” His eyes had locked on her mouth. His voice lowered until it was barely above a whisper. “Trust me, I am begging.”
Maria licked her lips, confused and unsure what to say or do. He had released her from the hug, but they were still standing close. Closer than friends would, but not so near they’d be mistaken for lovers.
“Can I kiss you?” He was the most serious she’d ever seen him. Even when, a few months back, he’d informed her she needed a new transmission in her car.
“You shouldn’t have to ask that,” she said, frustrated that he didn’t feel he could be spontaneous with her. With some things, yes, such as picnics, scooter rides and ornament painting. But not with a kiss, the one thing that should be unplanned and from the heart.
Was this indicative of her entire problem? She’d lost the ability to relax and go with the flow?
Clint shuffled his feet closer to hers as his callused hands bracketed her face. The kiss was tender and sweet, tasting of gingerbread. He must have stopped at Sweet Caroline’s for a cookie as well. He kissed her for a long moment, forcing the pre-Christmas foot traffic to weave around them.
“You left the painting class to come outside and do this on our streets?” said Miss Lucille with disdain. “Tourists,” she muttered, and Maria couldn’t help but giggle in Clint’s arms.
“We sure did,” he called after her.
As Maria pulled Clint in for another wet kiss, she thought maybe she was already learning to not take herself so seriously.
Chapter 5
Maria let herself and Clint into Kittim’s condo, then closed the door and leaned against it, smiling. The energy surge from giggling like a teenager in the painting session had returned full force. She was brimming with unexpected