Page 43 of A Match Made at Christmas

Hayes smiled. “I told you. He does this chicken marsala that’s to die for. And his steak—here, taste it.” He cut a piece of his filet, ran it through the juices pooling at the edge of the plate, and fed it to her from his fork.

She nodded as she chewed, affirming his opinion on Dante’s capabilities. “Good investment.”

He grinned, then scooped a bite of mashed potatoes into his mouth. “Told ya. Now you think I’m a genius.”

“Let’s not get crazy.”

On cue, the hostess arrived with a platter of appetizers for Howie. She’d been instructed to tell him that Pru was on her way, and to enjoy a bite while he waited. Now, they were counting on the man’s good manners. Surely, he wouldn’t let Peggy sit there by herself while he ate in front of her.

They watched for a long minute, and nothing happened. Maybe Howiewouldeat the appetizers in front of her.

“Is he really that rude?” Pru asked, exasperated. “Come on, dude!”

“Maybe he asked, and she declined.” It wasn’t like they could make out exactly what was happening—the video was fuzzy at best.

“How hard would it be?” Pru said, then, affecting Howie’s laid-back California-surfer accent, she added, “Peggy, would you like to share in this platter of appetizers that magically appeared on my table?”

“Well, sure, I thought you’d never ask,” Hayes said, raising his voice in an attempt to sound more feminine.

Pru frowned. “Why did you give her a Southern accent?”

Hayes grimaced. “I was going for girly.”

“Try again.”

He repeated the sentence, this time with less of a drawl, and Pru considered it decent enough to continue.

“And while we’re talking, I wanted to let you know how sorry I am that I didn’t notice you standing right in front of me all those years,” Pru continued. “Maybe I took you for granted.”

“No, Howie, I understand,” Hayes said, still using that voice. “I should’ve spoken up and told you how I felt.”

“Don’t sweat it, Peg,” Pru said, still doing her best Howie impression. “I know how hard it can be to speak your mind when there’s so much on the line. Maybe I should’ve made the first move.”

“Oh, don’t be too hard on yourself. I know how difficult it can be to take that step, and by the time you realized you were in love with me, our friendship was far too important to risk it,” Hayes said.

“Exactly right,” Pru said, dropping the voice. She turned toward Hayes and found him watching her. She stuttered. “I—I mean, I’m sure that’s what they’re saying.”

Hayes’s expression turned serious as he met her eyes. “Do you think?”

Pru’s stomach wobbled as she nodded. “If they were good friends, it would’ve been such a big risk.”

“But it might’ve been worth it.”

She went still, the air between them thick. “But how do they know if it is?”

They sat now, only inches apart, neither of them eating, staring at each other as if they were carved in stone.

“What are we doing here, Pru?” Hayes asked.

She shifted but maintained eye contact. She didn’t want to run away from her feelings anymore. The risk was worth it—wasn’t it? If she never put herself out there, she’d always wonder. And yet, she still played dumb with Hayes. “What do you mean?”

“You and me.” Hayes pushed a hand through his hair, and a look of desperation skittered across his face. “What is this?”

“We’re friends,” she said.

He scooted closer, eyes intent on her. “I don’t want to end up like them.”

Her breath caught. Her throat tightened. Her stomach somersaulted. What was he saying? His gaze remained steady—intent on her.

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