Page 30 of A Match Made at Christmas

Chapter 9

Prudence, Meaning “Cautious”

The ceiling was still the same shade of gray it had been when Pru went to bed hours ago. She knew because she couldn’t stop staring at it. A streetlamp cast a shadow through the window, and if she rolled over, she’d have a bird’s-eye view of her entire cottage.

Her whole world, right there in that house.

Only, that wasn’t true, was it? Her world was scattered all over Nantucket at the moment. Her surf shop. Her friends. Howie.

Hayes.

Having Howie back in town was definitely a good thing—except for the fact that the man could see right through her. Had he always known how she felt about Hayes? She’d never admitted it to anyone before.

The minutes ticked by, and Pru tossed and turned, wishing she could take back her conversation with Howie—because now that the truth was out there, floating around the magical Christmas air of Nantucket—it was far more likely to land on the wrong pair of ears.

She groaned. Rolled over. Punched her pillow. Then tried to think of all the reasons she and Hayes were a terrible match.

Their friendship had come easily. After she turned him down at the beach the day they met, she saw him out at a party a few nights later. Thanks to her disaster of a stepfather, Pru never drank, but she wanted to get out and meet people, so she let an acquaintance twist her arm and she found herself on the back deck of some rich guy’s cottage.

And there, in the yard, was the guy from the beach. She watched him, this confident mystery man, as he made the rounds, talking to everyone there. He seemed to know them all. When he reached the deck and started up the stairs, he found her eyes and stopped.

She nearly melted into a puddle but forced herself to play it cool. No way she was going to be like her mother—building a life around men who didn’t bother to stick around in the morning. Pru had the highest of standards, and right now, she was all about starting over.

And her plan did not include romance.

“Surfer Girl,” he said. He extended a hand in her direction. “I never caught your name.”

She reached out and shook his hand, aware of a tingle that jumped down her spine as their skin touched. “I’m Prudence.”

“Prudence,” he said. “Meaning ‘cautious.’”

She shrugged.

“Are you?” He was still holding her hand.

“Always.”

That’s when he flashed that smile. She was sure he’d been using that smile to get his way for a very long time by now. If her weak knees were any indication, he’d likely been very successful.

“I’m Hayes,” he said. Finally, he released his grip on her hand and the coolness of the air signaled its absence. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

She regarded him for a long moment. “Did you hear me when I said I’m cautious?”

“Oh, right, and going for a walk on the beach with a stranger is probably the definition of reckless.”

“Probably.”

“What if we stay in full view of the party at all times?” he asked.

In retrospect, she probably should’ve said no. It wasn’t smart to walk off with someone she didn’t know. He could be a serial rapist. Or a murderer. Or a pervert.

Yet, something told her he was safe.

“Won’t your adoring fans miss you?” she asked as he led her down the stairs and into the yard.

“I don’t even know these people,” he said.

“Hi, Hayes!” a girl’s voice called out from the direction of the hot tub.

---