“It’s too fast, Clint. I’m not ready for this kind of stuff.”
He swept his hands through his hair in frustration.
“I’m not ready for more hurt. I’m not ready to turn my life upside down for someone else.” She crossed her arms, daring him to argue. “I told you we could see each other, but you’re already breaking promises and assuming I’ll just be here, all happy as a sideline thing.”
“Maria…” The exasperation in his tone was new. He turned away with an exhalation, then swung back to her, his tone more patient. “Maria, you’re more than a sideline thing. Can you believe that? Could you believe for one minute that maybe I’m not leaving you?”
“Funny, because you’re about to get on a plane. That’s called leaving. You’re going home twelve hours before you said you were.”
“Hours, Maria. Mere hours.”
She crossed her arms once more. He couldn’t talk her out of this. Her husband had left, her father had left. Even her son Cole had left, and was barely in contact. She couldn’t take more heartbreak. Couldn’t take more promises of love and devotion, just to have it all ripped away. She needed someone who would be there every single step. Clint had made her believe she was important, and this sure didn’t show it.
“I thought I was worth more than some fears to you,” he said. “I guess I was wrong.”
He began walking toward the truck, and Maria could’ve sworn he took a piece of her heart with him. A piece she hadn’t realized still existed.
Of course her fears had played a role in things. Just as Clint’s had. He’d moved too fast. How could either of them know if this was love? He hadn’t even told her why he was leaving. And yet he expected her to trust him and understand?
How had their lovely morning on the beach turned so foul so quickly?
Maria emptied their coffee cups and set them on the steps leading up to the bed-and-breakfast. She walked back to Kit’s condo, lost in her thoughts like she’d gotten lost in painting the gala’s canvas bags last night, her hopes and dreams for the future building with each brushstroke. In all her thoughts Clint had played a starring role. Ideas had come to her on how she could give her sons more space, leave herself more time to enjoy the finer side of life with Clint and friends. Hobbies, travel possibilities and more. She’d been ready to live life to the fullest.
And now this.
How could he just leave?
What was so vital back home?
He kept saying that what was important to her was important to him.
Her sons and the ranch were important, but he wouldn’t be going back for that. There was nothing for him other than to fix the stupid tractor. And that wasn’t at all urgent. Him spending time here, with her… That was important.
He made no sense.
At least with Roy she’d understood why he’d left.
And saying he loved her? Had Clint not been listening to her all week? She needed to go slow. She’d agreed to one thing, and when she’d turned around he was practically on bended knee, proposing.
She stormed into Kit’s apartment and kicked off her shoes. She stopped in front of the table in the kitchen nook, her eyes catching on the canvas bags.
She picked one up and studied it critically. Maria wanted to crumple it in her hands, throw it in the corner and stomp on it. Instead, she inspected it while sinking into a chair.
The painting wasn’t half-bad. Not the most original art, but nice. With good detail.
Nonthreatening.
She’d never be an artist, but as a hobby, painting was a fine one.
She stacked the dried bags and wondered if Clint had finished the scooter. It was so unlike him to up and leave. Or maybe she didn’t truly know him.
She sorted the paintbrushes and supplies. In one of her dreams last night, she’d imagined herself all decked out for the gala. Clint had been wearing a tuxedo, and she’d been so happy. In her dream, the night had been unlike anything from her real life. She’d chatted with the movie star Eric Slade, listened to Ariana Carol’s beautiful singing, and hung out with the town’s mayor, Amanda Strickland, and many others.
Moving to Kit’s guest room, Maria began packing up the things she wouldn’t need before tomorrow morning’s flight to Dallas. Instead of living her grand fantasy, she was flying home to support her boys and their football team.
She wouldn’t give up her family for anything, but she still felt a strange sense of loss for what might have been if the timing had been better with the gala and Clint.
Maria stood at the bedroom window and blindly stared outside, wondering what her future would bring beyond chores, family and routine. Would she find love again? Real love. Not what Clint thought he had.
How would she handle bumping into him around town? It was going to be so awkward.
Pulling herself out of the daze, Maria moved to the stack of finished bags outside her bedroom. She smoothed her hand over one where she’d painted a palm tree bending in the wind. Clint had revived something in her, and even if she couldn’t have him, she decided she’d keep what he’d restored within her.
With her jaw set, Maria grabbed her purse. There was one more thing she had to do before she left Indigo Bay.
She arrived at Seaside Cycles out of breath, her mind whirling with inspiration. She collected an airbrush kit from one of the shop assistants, Liam. He gave her a few tips, then watched as she tested it out. Satisfied she wouldn’t destroy the scooter, he turned her loose. She attacked the scooter, praying she didn’t mar its perfect paint job with her own additions.
Two hours later she stretched the kinks out of her back and admired her work. Not flawless by any means, but her custom painting was raw and full of life.
A deliriously happy, fat mermaid settled herself on a rock as waves crashed around her, mid-storm. She looked strong, and somehow slightly surly.
It was perfect.
And then Maria began to cry.
Out on the street, she collected herself and called the one person she knew would understand. The one person who could help her sort through the confusion and pain that was making her heart ache like it never had before.
“He said what?” Fiona said into the phone, so loudly that Maria lifted her cell away from her ear and lowered the volume. Fiona’s voice mellowed as she said to someone in the diner, “I’m on the phone. You can wait for a top-up.”
“I can call back later,” Maria offered.
“No, you called me at the diner, which means it’s important. Garfield can wait for more coffee.” She said it firmly, as though daring the old man to argue with her.
“Way to lay down the law,” Maria said with a chuckle.
“It’s the only way to handle the opposite sex. Show them who’s boss.” There was a sassy flirtatiousness to her tone, and Maria wondered what her friend was playing with. She knew things weren’t good with her husband, William, but Fiona wasn’t the type to step out on her marriage. Not even for the persistent and sweet Garfield, a man half the town was rooting for.
“Clint wants to get serious. He’s saying he knows I’m the one for him.”
“And?” There was a tremor of excitement in Fiona’s voice.
“What do you mean, and? We were supposed to be having fun, enjoying some adventures, and now he’s getting serious and acting as though I need to change my life for him.” Her voice grew louder, and she lowered it even though there was nobody sharing the empty sidewalk in front of Seaside Cycles.