Sweet Joymaker (Indigo Bay Christmas Romances #3) - Jean Oram Page 0,29
the table. “Did you see who I found on my walk home?” She moved past Clint and into the kitchen.
He leaned against the wall, watching Maria. “Need help?”
She shook her head and threaded the needle for another bag.
“We got the first coat of blue on the scooter. You were right. It looks good. Very cute.”
“You know what would make those bags look even better?” Kit called from the kitchen.
“What?” Maria called back.
“A hand-painted scene.”
“You could paint them,” Clint said, coming closer. “Like a scene from your ornament.”
“That was uninspired and boring.”
“It was special, a scene from the beach here in town. People would love it.”
Kittim entered the room again. “I agree. It would be a hit.”
Maria laughed. “You realize he’s trying to convince me to paint something on all the bags.” She gestured toward the tall stack. The Morrison Mansion’s ballroom would be stuffed with guests on Saturday night. She couldn’t paint something for everyone.
“But it’s a cute idea,” Kit said.
“I thought so,” Clint agreed.
“It would be a tremendous amount of work.”
“What if it was just for the sponsors?” Kit’s eyes lit up and she clapped her hands together. “They’d love that! A hand-painted scene on their bags to show them how special they are to us.”
“How many sponsors are there?” Clint asked.
“Not that many.”
“Five? Fifty?” Maria asked.
“Would you do ten? That would cover our gold level sponsors.”
Maria eyed the bags. Ten would be okay. If she could find a shred of creativity within her. “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s a no.” Kit pouted.
“Maybe not,” Clint said, going to stand behind Maria. He started to massage her shoulders, like he’d promised to do if she painted the scooter for him. Instinctively she tightened her muscles, nervous about what accepting the back rub might mean.
Men left when they got bored, and she wasn’t much more than who she was in this moment.
“Relax,” he coaxed.
“I’m trying.”
“It’s just a massage,” he said.
“I know.”
“I’m going to zip over to the neighbor’s,” Kit said, watching them with a smile. “She has something for the silent auction. Back in a flash. Be good!”
“Take your time,” Clint called back.
Kit giggled as the door closed.
Clint leaned forward, his breath tickling Maria’s ear as he whispered, “It’s not a marriage proposal.” He bent farther to catch her eye, then gave her a devilish wink. “Yet.”
She laughed, waving him away. After yesterday’s joke to Miss Lucille, saying they weren’t married yet, and now this, she was having shivers of anticipation over when he might ask her on an official date.
A date.
How had he got her to a place where she was longing for that?
“There really is something about the ocean air that makes you misbehave like a young boy.”
“Maybe it’s the company.” His hands returned to her shoulders.
“I don’t seem to turn you into a brat back in Sweetheart Creek.”
“Back home you’re always racing off somewhere, saving lives and putting out fires.”
She pursed her lips. “I am not.”
His powerful hands found the exact knot she couldn’t seem to work out on her own. She relented, relaxing into his fingers. “And yet here you are again.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re taking care of others instead of yourself. Even with this—” he gestured to the canvas bags “—you’re taking care of others.”
She failed to see a problem with that.
“This is your vacation, is it not?”
“And?”
“And you’re helping people.”
He was still working the knot in her shoulder, and she moaned as the muscle loosened. It was as if years of tension were melting from her back.
Clint went to work on the left shoulder, and she rolled her neck to the other side, giving him more room for his large hands to manipulate the tightness.
“That’s from carrying everyone,” he said, his voice deep and rich in Maria’s ear.
“But who would I be if I wasn’t helping?” she asked, not expecting an answer. “That’s who I was raised to be. That’s who I am. People leave holes and I fill them.”
“You do.” His voice was tender, with no hint of judgment, and his acknowledgment brought a wash of emotion.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. But why not combine the two?”
“The two what?”
“You doing things for you, and this volunteer work. Do them together.”
“You lost me.”
“Paint, Maria.” He sat in the chair beside her.
“I’m not—”
He shushed her. “It doesn’t have to be a new career or for a bigger purpose. It can be for fun. I saw you with that ornament in Coastal Creations. The total concentration, the small smile playing at your lips. You enjoyed it.