He had tried to help me understand that I wasn’t right with God. But if my father couldn’t accomplish that, no one could. At least, that was the excuse I’d been going with for the past few months.
Truth was, my spiritual state had been on my mind for a while, and reading Charlotte’s text cut me to the core. My heart hadn’t been right for…maybe never…but I was tired of fighting God. Tired of resisting Him. I wanted to have a relationship with Him. I just didn’t know how.
That was a subject to contemplate on another day. Pushing those thoughts aside, I headed for the shower. The event for Children’s Commission would start in an hour and a half, and I wanted to get there before the others arrived.
Ninety minutes later, I parked in the lot behind the park and made my way to the area designated for a group picnic. Joanna Lynn, the director of Children’s Commission, stood a good distance away and once she spotted me, she waved and headed in my direction.
“Easton!” George Clayton strode towards me from the parking lot with what looked like a container with four coffees.
I put a hand on my forehead and let out a breath. I should have thought to bring coffee for everyone. As the boss, it was my job to set the example of caring for others’ needs. It had slipped my mind like so many other things had. A feeling of despondency washed through me, but I shrugged it off and schooled my expression. I was a master at holding my feelings inside.
Maya and Bruce followed George, walking at a much slower pace, appearing to be in deep conversation. My back stiffened, but it wasn’t actual jealousy since I wasn’t the jealous type. By all accounts, I didn’t have a claim on Maya or any other woman. She could do whatever she wanted with whoever she wanted, and it shouldn’t matter to me.
When George arrived, he handed me one of the coffees. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” I reached for the coffee and took a sip. “Thanks. I needed this.”
Joanna joined us and shook my hand, smiling from ear-to-ear. “Good to see you again, Easton.” She looked me up and down, raising an eyebrow as she took in my formal attire. “You wore a suit again.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m here to observe, but I brought reinforcements to assist with anything you need.” I introduced her to George, Maya, and Bruce, thankful they’d dressed in more appropriate clothing for a picnic. “Give them instructions, and they’re good to go.”
Maya glanced at me, and I winked before thinking better of it. She blushed down to her neck.
Interesting. Was that because she found me attractive or was it because she felt uncomfortable with the situation? It was probably the latter. She’d never hidden how much she disliked me.
“I need two people to assist with the three-legged race,” Joanna said, “and two more to get started with the face painting.”
“I’ll help with the race,” Bruce said, eagerly. He glanced at Maya. “Want to be my partner in crime?”
George cleared his throat, appearing slightly nervous. “Actually, I’m not good at anything requiring an artistic flare, so if you don’t mind, I’ll supervise the race, and Maya can do the face painting.”
“Not a problem,” Maya said. “I’ve done it before. A friend asked me to help at a birthday party for her younger sister.”
Everyone looked at me to see if I would volunteer to take the second position. I shifted and glanced at Maya and then at Joanna. “I’ll observe for now.”
“You don’t want to participate?” Joanna asked, disappointment turning the corners of her mouth down.
“Not today.” That was my way of telling her to drop it.
Maya frowned. “You’re asking me to paint two hundred kids’ faces all by myself? Are you serious?”
“I’d just get in your way.”
Maya pursed her lips. “Easton.”
I chuckled at her insistent expression. “Yes, Maya?”
“I need your help. I can’t do this on my own. We all came to volunteer, not to stand around and observe.”
She was right, but I didn’t know what I was doing. I rarely interacted with children, and I had no artistic skills whatsoever.
Joanna smiled and cleared her throat as if sensing my uneasiness. “I have a book with simple designs you can use. You don’t have to be a great artist to paint a heart.”
I was so out of my element here, and a part of me wanted to leave them all to do their thing. I was the boss, so I could get away with it, but one glance at Maya told me she’d think less of me if I followed through on that.
Before I registered what was happening, Maya linked her arm through mine and pulled me towards a table that had paints and brushes and several cups of water placed on top. There were face painting books as well. I glanced down at our linked arms and my eyes widened at Maya’s bold gesture. I was tempted to hold on to her and not let go just to see what she would do, but I resisted the urge.
She pulled away as if the contact meant nothing to her. “Check this out. It’s for beginners.” She handed me one of the booklets.
I took a seat and flipped through it, looking for designs that appeared easy enough for me to use. A butterfly with wings across the forehead, encompassing the eyes and nose caught my attention, but it seemed too complicated for me. I turned the page and found a pirate look with a black patch over one eye and a fake mustache painted over the top lip. That I could do.
Maya leaned over and flipped the pages of the book, her arm brushing against mine. “I saw this one a minute ago. It doesn’t seem too hard.” She pointed to a cat with whiskers and a yellow button nose, but I wasn’t paying attention to the design. Her hair fell over her shoulder, the scent of vanilla and lavender wafting through the air. I fought the urge to put my arm around her and pull her to my side. A sense of loneliness filled my chest, creating an ache for something I hadn’t thought about in a very long time. Love.
Why did she always have this effect on me? I shook my head to clear it and scooted over several inches to create space between us. She noticed the movement and frowned, probably thinking I was trying to get away from her because I didn’t like her. Nothing could be further from the truth.
A few minutes passed, and we sat in awkward silence, looking through the face painting books a second and third time, not sure what to say to each other.
Maya finally glanced up. “A bunch of kids are headed our way.”
I tensed, not feeling up for the task, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it because a little girl, appearing around the age of four or five, ran up to me, a smile lighting up her countenance. She had blonde curly hair and big brown eyes. “I want you to paint my face.”
I nodded. “What’s your name?”
“Abby.”
“Okay, Abby, what about this?” I pointed to the picture of the pirate boy, and she giggled. “That’s a boy! I’m a girl.”
I tried not to laugh at her enthusiastic correction. “I can see that, but girls can be pirates if they want to be.”
Her forehead creased, and she lifted her hands in a shrug. “But I don’t want to be a pirate. I want to be a butterfly. Do that one.” She pointed to the detailed butterfly I had already passed over as too difficult.
I didn’t have the skill or the determination to attempt that design, so she’d just have to pick something else. “What about this cat? Isn’t it cute?”
She shook her head. “I want the butterfly.”
“I can’t paint that one, but there are several other options—”
“No. The butterfly or nothing.” She crossed her arms at her chest and stuck her lower lip out.
I had to get this situation under control or I’d soon have a full-blown tantrum to deal with. I scanned the grassy area and found George and Bruce directing the three-legged race, and I wished I’d worn more appropriate clothing. That was more up my alley than face painting since I didn’t have an artistic bone in my body.
I glanced at Maya, and she was already painting a rainbow on a little girl’s cheek. Why couldn’t I have gotten t
hat assignment? A rainbow would have been much easier to handle.
“Maya.” I waited a few seconds until she met my gaze. “Can you do her next? She wants a butterfly, and I can’t—”
“These other kids are already in line. You’ll have to paint it or convince her to pick something else.”
She dismissed me just like that. As if I wasn’t her boss or her sister’s older brother or even her former nemesis. Any other woman would have jumped to help me, but not Maya. Rather than feel annoyed, admiration swelled in my chest. It was rare to find a woman who wasn’t swayed by someone in a position of power. Maybe that was why I’d always had a thing for her. She didn’t cower to anyone, no matter who they were.
I stared at her for several seconds, a huge smile on my face, not even caring that my feelings were probably showing through my expression.
She must have sensed my gaze because she turned to look at me. “What?”
“Nothing.” I couldn’t wipe away my grin.
“You’re laughing at me.” She put the paint brush down and glared at me as if I were the biggest jerk alive.
“No, I’m not.”
“Then what’s your deal? Why are you grinning at me like that?”
Because you have no idea how beautiful you are. But I couldn’t say that or I’d be in hot water. “It’s nothing, Maya. I’m not making fun of you. Just forget it.”
She pursed her lips and went back to painting, but I caught her peeking at me suspiciously out of the corner of her eye.
I breathed in and out slowly, my chest expanding and falling. Little Abby stared at me like I was crazy. “Are you going to do my butterfly?”
I laughed at her impatience. “Has anyone ever told you how bossy you are?”
“No, you’re bossy.”
Maya snickered. “Looks like you got yourself a feisty one.”
I laced my fingers together and stretched my arms out in front of me. “You’re telling me.” I turned back to Abby, eager to please this time around. “Fine. You want a butterfly? I’ll do my best, but I can’t promise it will look like it does in the book.”
She clapped her hands and jumped up and down. “Yay!”
“Have a seat.”
Maya smiled. “You’re going to give it a try?”
“Yep.”
She leaned in, bringing her lips to my ear, and the sensation tickled, sending warmth through my body. “Here’s a quick tip,” she said. She lowered her voice so the children wouldn’t hear. “Pretend it’s the most beautiful thing in the world, and she’ll love it.”
I didn’t move a muscle until she pulled away and helped the next kid in line. Man, I was in trouble when it came to her.
“All right, let’s do this.” I rubbed my palms together and then placed enough paint nearby so I could easily access it.
Ten minutes later, Abby had a lopsided butterfly with purple and blue wings, but she didn’t seem to notice how wrong it looked. It was the most basic outline with little detail, but it wasn’t horrible per se. Just not great.
I cleared my throat and held up a mirror so she could see the final result. “Happy?”
Maya stopped what she was doing and looked at the butterfly I’d painted on Abby’s face. “That’s gorgeous! Wow, maybe you’ll draw one for me.”
I knew she was only saying that so Abby wouldn’t complain about how awful it looked, but I planned to take her up on it when we finished.
“It’s beautiful,” Abby said, and then she turned and ran in the opposite direction.
“One down,” I said. “How many more to go?”
Maya let out a laugh. “Settle in boss. There are a lot of kids here today.”
***
Three hours later, Joanna informed us that we could stop painting faces since they planned on serving the hamburgers and hotdogs, and they wanted all the kids to get in the food line.
“Come join us,” Joanna said, motioning for us to follow her.
“In a few minutes,” I said, glancing at Maya. “I promised I’d paint a butterfly on Maya’s face.”
Joanna smiled and stopped just short of winking. “Okay, see you in a bit.” She turned and walked towards the crowd, issuing instructions to wandering children to get in line for food.
Maya’s eyebrows flew up. “I was joking earlier. I didn’t mean—”
“Shhhh. It’ll only take a minute.” She opened her mouth to protest, and I flashed a lazy smile. “What’s the problem? Do I intimidate you?”
Her brows lowered, and she looked almost offended. “Of course not.”
“Then there’s no issue.”
“How do I know you won’t make me into a devil or something?”
“I would never do that, Maya. You can trust me.”
She laughed outright at that, and my smile slipped a little. She tossed her hair over one shoulder and shook her head as if my statement was ridiculous. “Yeah, right. Like I would trust…” She stopped her train of thought, eyes widening as she considered how her words came across. “I mean… What I meant to say…” She glanced away and put a hand over her forehead. “I need to be quiet.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself.” I scooted closer and arranged the paints on the table for easier access. There was still plenty of paint to use for the butterfly. “I hope you’ll trust me…just this once. I promise I won’t let you down.”
The corners of her lips tugged up as if she were trying not to smile but couldn’t help it. “And yet you have a smirk on your face.”
I shrugged like it was no big deal. “I always have a smirk.”
“Not true. Most of the time you walk around like you got up on the wrong side of the bed. I never really know what’s going on in your head.”
I met her gaze, feeling as if her big brown eyes could swallow me up if I stared at them too long. “You contemplate what’s going on in my head?”
“No…it was just an expression.” Flustered, she lifted a hand and then let it fall in her lap. “Actually, I don’t think about you at all.”
“Look, I won’t force you to do this if you don’t want to. Just thought it would be fun.”
She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, her gaze trained on me. “Do I get to paint your face as well?”
I hesitated for a long moment, unsure about that. “Um…”
She pointed a finger and laughed. “Look who doesn’t want to do it when the shoe is on the other foot.”
I threw my hands up in surrender and chuckled. “Fine. You can paint my face.”
“All right, then. Let’s get started.”
I moved in even closer, invading her personal space, and then dipped a paintbrush into the purple paint and drew a quick outline of a butterfly over her face. My eyes dropped briefly to her lips, and she visibly swallowed. I placed two fingers on one side of her jaw to hold her still while the brush danced across her smooth skin. “Does that tickle?”
“A little.” She watched me as I worked, but I resisted the impulse to make eye contact. If I did, I might lose my cool and do something stupid…like kiss her.
I dragged the activity out longer than I needed to, but I wanted to do a better job this time around. Fifteen minutes later, I held up a mirror so Maya could see what it looked like. “What do you think?”
She was quiet for so long my pulse pounded in my neck. “It’s lovely. I’m quite surprised.”
“I’m no artist but—”
“Thank you for keeping your promise. That means a lot to me.”
A sense of happiness and peace flooded through me at her approval, and I couldn’t stop from grinning. It felt like a breakthrough. I shouldn’t care this much, but I did, and the realization wasn’t disturbing at all. “You’re welcome. I’m not the ogre you think I am.”
“I never said you were an ogre.”
I let the statement drop and leaned back in my chair, smiling. “All right. Your turn to paint my face.”
She sucked in a breath and bit down on her bo
ttom lip as if reconsidering her offer. “Is there a particular design you’d like?”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. You pick.”
She nodded nervously, and then dipped her paintbrush in the water and moved it back and forth over a piece of paper to get rid of the residue. “Okay.” She dipped the brush in red paint and dragged it over my skin in smooth, precise movements, taking her time, a look of concentration on her face. Our eyes met for a few seconds and sparks flashed. Both of us inhaled sharply, and my pulse jumped. Whatever this was…this thing between us…I couldn’t let it get out of hand. I had to make sure it didn’t go beyond this moment.
George and Bruce walked over with plates full of food, interrupting the tension. “You guys still at it?” Bruce asked.
“I’m just about done,” Maya said, dabbing her brush in the red paint. She made a few quick strokes with the brush and then laid it down. “Okay, you can look now.” She held up the mirror so I could check out her work.
“A Spiderman mask. Very cool.”
“Do you like it?” There was an edge to her voice as if she actually cared about my opinion.
“I love it.”
“I never thought I’d see the day,” George said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I’ve never seen you let down your guard like this, Easton. Bravo for finally coming around. It’s nice to see you so relaxed.” He glanced at Maya and winked, and I knew exactly what was going through his mind because it was going through mine as well.
Maya Anderson brought out the best in me.
Chapter 11
Maya
“Happy Birthday,” I said, holding out a vase with a dozen Gerber daisies, and a small wrapped present.
Charlotte accepted the box and the daises and gestured for me to come inside. She took a whiff of the flowers and smiled. “I love this. And they’re so beautiful. Thank you, Maya.”
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