“I was wondering if I’d see you.” Clint came across the sand wearing uncharacteristically bright surfing shorts. He also had on a rash guard shirt, and his shaggy graying hair was wet and tousled. He looked handsome. Healthy. Happy. And different from the quiet mechanic she knew back home.
“What on earth are you doing?” she asked, taking him in with a lingering second glance. He’d just come from the water, a short, wide board under his arm.
“Oh,” he said, shoving a hand through his dripping hair. “I was learning to boogie board. The waves aren’t that big, so it was about perfect for an old guy like me.” There was that happy grin again.
“You’re not that old.”
“I’ll feel old tomorrow when these muscles tell me I’m not twenty-three anymore.”
“When did you get here?”
“A few hours ago.”
“And you’re already hitting the beach? I thought you had a moped to revamp?”
“Brewster’s busy in his custom motorcycle shop, finishing up some Christmas orders. We’ll work on the scooter this evening. Or at least that’s the plan. I’m staying at his wife’s B&B right here.” Clint tipped his head toward the freshly painted mansion behind them. “Want to come in for a drink?”
Maria had never stayed in a bed-and-breakfast, but suspected inviting guests in for a drink wasn’t standard practice.
“Sonja puts out sweet tea and snacks in the afternoon. There’s a wonderful living room that guests are welcome to enjoy.”
“It sounds lovely.”
“And because I’m a family friend, I also have access to the liquor cabinet. So if you want something a little stronger than tea, just let me know.” He gave her a devilish smile that took her by surprise. “I used to be a bartender in college.”
“Really?”
“Yup.”
The breeze was playing with Maria’s shoulder-length hair and she pushed it off her face, wishing she had thought to wear a hat.
“Want to come in?”
The invitation felt as though it was for more than just a drink. It was an invitation into his life, into something new. Into something she hadn’t had since high school, when she’d started dating Roy.
That had been so long ago, she didn’t believe she could do something like that again. New relationships took so much time and fuss. And anyway, how would their lives ever fit together?
Maria checked her watch, relieved to find it was time to head back and meet Kit. She gave Clint a regretful smile. “Sorry, I’m meeting Kittim for dinner soon.”
“You’re staying with Kit?” Clint asked.
She nodded.
“Is she working this week?”
Maria nodded again. “She runs an accounting firm.”
“Maybe we could go out for coffee or something tomorrow while our hosts are tied up at work.”
Maria knew from her stint as a retired woman that she was likely to go stir-crazy by tomorrow afternoon. But she also wasn’t sure if Clint was inviting her out on a date. He’d been playing it cool back home, and right now he wasn’t acting like a man who had followed her all this way. But still. Coincidence? She thought not.
“I’ll call you if I have free time,” she said, hoping to curb any false hope that she might inadvertently build by saying yes. She pointed to the mansion. “What’s this place called?”
“Morrison Mansion Bed and Breakfast. But you can just text me. You still have my number?” The way he said it was flirty, and Maria paused, uncertain how to react to this new version of Clint. He was fun and free, and presenting himself like a very tempting distraction.
Not that she wanted to go home with a boyfriend. At her age! That was such a ridiculous idea. She had a ranch to help out on, no time for frivolity like some whimsical twenty-year-old.
But she was also curious about this newly revealed side of Clint.
Pulse thrumming, she turned into the wind, calling over her shoulder as she walked away, “I’ll text you in the morning.”
The woman behind the glassed-in dessert counter at Sweet Caroline’s had short brown hair and a warm smile. If Maria’s memory was as good as she thought it might be, this was the owner, Caroline, now in her early fifties.
“I’m having that for dessert,” Kittim announced, pointing to a slice of key lime pie nestled among sprigs of holly and mistletoe.
“Aren’t we having supper?” Maria asked. The small cafe smelled of cinnamon, coffee and something sweet. Some of her favorite fragrances. The place was warm and bustling, nearly every table filled.
“We are, but we need to select our dessert first so we know how much to order for our first course.”
The woman behind the counter grinned. “I like the way you think.”
“Strategic,” Maria murmured in approval.
“You remember Maria Wylder?” Kit asked Caroline. “She used to vacation here with her family years ago.”
“I don’t expect you to,” Maria said, “but I sure recall your cinnamon rolls.”
“Thank you.” Caroline studied her thoughtfully. “Texas, right? Big family of boys?”
Maria nodded. “You have an excellent memory.”
“Your Texas accent helped me out.”
“It follows me wherever I go.”
“Nick was here last summer. He’s one of yours, isn’t he?”
“My nephew.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Well, he and Polly are working together on my niece Alexa’s ranch back in Texas. They seem happy.” The duo had rekindled their old flame while saving Roy and Sophia’s wedding here in June.
“Oh, I remember Alexa. She was another good one. Smart and sweet. Deadly combo. She was putting on a Christmas wedding—no, a vow renewal and reception for Luke Cohen and Emma Carrington, if I recall correctly?”
“She was.” And had fallen in love with her boss, Cash Campbell, while doing so. It was lucky Maria wasn’t here for anything wedding-related, seeing as two of her family members had fallen in love here while doing so.
Someone joined the line behind Maria and Kit, and Caroline got down to business, “So what would you like for your first course? Have you decided?”
They settled on two specials, then selected a table near the window, Caroline promising to bring out their meals when they were ready.
“How was your afternoon?” Kit asked Maria.
“Good. I went as far as the Morrison Mansion B&B. My legs have that wonderful feeling you get when you’ve pushed them a little.”
“You seem pleased,” Kittim said, a small smile toying with her lips as though aware Maria was holding back a secret.
“And I bumped into someone from back home,” Maria blurted, wanting to talk about Clint. She would call Fiona, but worried that her friend might inadvertently start some gossip, or expect Maria to engage in something she wasn’t ready for. Namely a relationship.
“Really? Who?”
“Clint Walker. He’s my mechanic.” She felt a blush heat her cheeks and a wash of possessiveness by claiming him as hers. Technically, he was her mechanic, but several hundred other people’s, too.