Sweet Joymaker (Indigo Bay Christmas Romances #3) - Jean Oram Page 0,38

it deserves.”

“That’s the part you focus on? I just told you I was going to ravage you with kisses.”

“Oh, I mustn’t have heard that. You know, when you’re over the hill, first your hearing goes…”

“Get over here, old lady.” Clint grabbed her by the elbow, pulling her closer. The first kiss missed her lips, landing on her cheek.

She giggled, shifting in the seat so the next kiss landed exactly where she wanted it. Right on her lips.

Chapter 8

The next morning Maria sat in a beach chair outside the Morrison Mansion Bed and Breakfast, admiring the crashing surf. Clint joined her with a cup of coffee in each hand.

Just one more day together. She had so much she wanted to talk about, as last night’s painting session had opened up her mind to dreams and possibilities. So many ideas. And she knew she could share them with Clint. They could build something together. They really could.

He handed her a cup, not meeting her eyes.

“Are you going to the big football game?” she asked, taking a sip of her coffee. Tomorrow morning she’d fly directly to Dallas to watch the Sweetheart Creek high school football team battle for the title of state champions for their division. Two of her sons would be coaching, and the stands of the giant stadium would be filled with friends and family. Clint planned to fly home tonight, but she wasn’t sure if he’d make the long drive to Dallas the very next day.

“I hope to, but I have some catching up to do.” He winked at her. “Some beach babe from Texas distracted me and suddenly my quick trip turned into a mini vacation.”

Maria grimaced. Reality would hit them hard when they returned home. Chores and jobs were no doubt stacking up while, toes in the sand, they leisurely watched the sun crawl higher in the sky.

She shifted in her chair, hoping to shift the direction of her thoughts, too. “It is nice you could stay longer.”

He reached across the space to squeeze her hand, his eyebrows raising.

“What?” she asked.

“You know you’re important to me.”

“Yes, you’ve said that.”

“And what’s important to you is important to me.”

“You’ve said that, too.” She set her cup in the sand. He was worrying her. “Are you okay?”

“Maria, I—”

“You ready?” It was Jeff, Clint’s friend, coming up behind them, truck keys in hand.

“Where are you going?” Maria asked Clint.

“I have to leave.” He set his cup down in the sand beside hers.

“I thought you were staying until tonight?” She tried to keep her voice level, but her heart betrayed her, making it wobble slightly.

“Something came up. I’m sorry.”

Her surprise turned to annoyance. He’d just spent days pestering her about letting go and enjoying things. He’d made her feel guilty for enjoying how the ranch and her sons dominated her everyday life. He’d encouraged her to let loose, and then had turned around and secretly rebooked his flight to an earlier time?

What could have come up? Some broken-down cars? Couldn’t his customers wait an extra few days? Yes, it was Christmas and people wanted to go places, but the man deserved a holiday.

Just like she did.

They stood, Clint turning to her as Jeff retreated to his truck to wait.

“So now what?” Maria asked.

Yesterday she’d said they’d date back home, and now he was cutting his trip short. Was it because he’d gotten what he wanted?

Things were getting good, and now he was leaving.

It was difficult to not let that seep in and reopen old wounds.

“I’ll see you in Sweetheart Creek?” he asked, squeezing her hand again. She pulled it back.

“The town has less than five thousand residents. It would be difficult not to.” Her tone said it all. The hurt, the disappointment, the feeling of betrayal.

Clint shifted closer, his brows pinched. “I’m sorry. I know this is sudden. But trust me, it’s important.” He was looking at her as if she was supposed to understand, when he hadn’t even given her details.

But she didn’t understand. They didn’t have enough history between them to bridge this moment. All she understood was that after a wonderful few days and a promise, he was suddenly turning around and leaving.

And she hadn’t seen it coming.

Maria watched Clint take a few steps toward the truck. He turned back, his eyes kind and seeking. “Please tell me you’ll see me in Sweetheart Creek.”

Unable to speak, she simply stood by the chairs and waited for him to leave.

He closed the distance between them again, his look so earnest she