Sweet Joymaker (Indigo Bay Christmas Romances #3) - Jean Oram Page 0,24

joy and delight, as well as curiosity over what might come next.

“You’re even more beautiful when you smile,” Clint said, easing closer to cradle her face. He gave her a light kiss on the lips. While it was chaste, it held a heat that whispered of promise.

She smiled again, feeling ridiculous. Was this how Roy had felt when Sophia had paid attention to him? Renewed? Excited? Full of anticipation that there might be more to life yet to come?

No. No thinking about Roy under any circumstances.

She was here, away from home and everything that kept tying her to an identity that no longer served her. Things had changed, as Clint had so deftly pointed out. It was time she changed, too. Just a bit.

“Want a cup of tea?” she asked, slipping past Clint and heading down the narrow hallway to the kitchen and living area. She pivoted, walking backward to watch him. He advanced with a smile, catching her in his arms to give her a kiss that wasn’t as sweet or innocent as the earlier one.

She wrapped herself in the moment, refusing to think about the future or any implications related to kissing Clint Walker.

“A spot of tea would be delightful,” he said when he finally released her, putting on a posh accent. “And if a cup of tea is a euphemism for something else, then I—”

Still in his arms, Maria tickled him without mercy. “You are such a brat. I swear it’s the ocean air.”

“It’s not,” he said, helpless with laughter.

“You are so unbelievably ticklish!”

He was handsome when he laughed, and all trace of worry left his face, giving him that youthful look that had intrigued her two days ago on the beach. It was hard to believe he’d had any sort of recent health issue.

The idea sobered her, and she relented, steering him toward the kitchen as she asked, “Fiona said you had a health scare? Everything’s okay?”

She tried to keep it casual, but knew her concern had revealed itself in her voice. Worry had returned to the lines in his face.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you? Because I don’t want to get involved with a man who’s on death’s door.”

“We’re getting involved?” There was a warmth to his voice she wanted to keep there.

“No. But that still doesn’t mean I want to be an item on someone’s bucket list.” With a slight amount of alarm, she realized she wanted to be a lot more than that.

“Bucket list?” he repeated.

“You know, a kiss or a girlfriend before you kick the bucket or something like that?”

“Shoot. You’re onto me. The doctor found something odd with my prostate. But the delightful news is that it turned out to be nothing a dose of radiation can’t fix.”

Maria gasped, her palms landing lightly on his chest.

“I’m kidding.” He gently took her hands, holding them in front of him, then placed a kiss on her forehead. “It was nothing more than a bit of inflammation. He fixed me up.”

“I’m glad.”

“Were you worried about me?” A slow smile of pleasure stretched his mouth.

“Yes.” She pulled her hands from his and busied herself with gathering cups for tea.

“Less interested now that I might stick around another twenty years?” He craned his neck, trying to see her expression, and she glowered even though she didn’t feel the least bit angry. “Were you afraid your new boyfriend was about to keel over?”

She sighed at his teasing.

“Maybe you thought he was looking to entrap someone to be his in-home nurse during his final days?”

She gave his shoulder a light tap of disapproval as she reached around him for the electric kettle. “Don’t make me take you by your ear.”

“I’ve heard about that infamous abuse. You have rumors being spread by your boys all over town, and yet I have never seen you get physical with a single soul. Not even that time Ryan had a fit in the middle of Main Street when he was—how old? five? seven?—because you wouldn’t buy him an ice-cream cone.”

Maria laughed. “Oh, that one was such a handful. If I hadn’t been so tired from raising all those boys, I might’ve had the grace to be embarrassed.”

“You handle all of life’s bumps with endless grace.”

“I wish that were true. I’ve had my share of fits over the years.” Not so many, but enough that she didn’t want to think about them.

Maria filled the kettle and plugged it in. She opened the cupboard above the counter. “What kind of tea do you like?”

“How about something without