Page 49 of A Match Made at Christmas

And if she didn’t tell herself otherwise over and over again, she might also assume they were more than friends.

Because something in the air between them had changed, making her think that maybe kissing him hadn’t been a mistake at all.

Howie arrived, wearing his “nice jeans,” which apparently meant the ones without the holes in them, and a graphic T-shirt under a black blazer. Pru watched from her spot near the stairs as Peggy stared at him from across the room. He sauntered in, took one look at her, and Pru was sure she didn’t imagine the connection between them.

Peggy might be hurt, and she might be playing hard to get, but she loved that man.

“Did you feel it?” Hayes asked.

Pru glanced at him, painting a question on her face.

“Magic.” He whispered the word with a raise of his eyebrows, then smiled. “We’re on.”

“I’m not sure about this plan,” Pru said, feeling suddenly nervous.

“We just need to get them alone together.” He looked down at her. “A lot can happen when two people are alone.”

Well, heck. She knew that was true.

She dared to meet his eyes. Bright and sparkling with promise, as always, and yet there was something different there too.

He didn’t look away, as if he hadn’t yet made his point.

“It didn’t work very well last night,” she said, thinking of how sad Peggy had seemed on their quiet walk home. She hadn’t said hardly a word, but she didn’t need to. Pru understood heartache. If Pru had to guess, she would say seeing Howie had stirred up all those old feelings in Peggy, and maybe she simply needed time to process them.

“It worked pretty good for us,” he said.

Her breath caught. Was he . . . flirting with her? About the kiss, which she’d thought they’d agreed to never speak of again? And if he was, she should be angry, but mostly she was just trying to keep herself from going weak in the knees.

“I have a good feeling about this,” Hayes said, as if his words had zero effect on her.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll go get Howie.”

He nodded, still looking at her, still unnerving her. She loved him, and she almost didn’t care if he knew.

She took a step back. “See you in a minute.” She walked away, aware that he was watching her.

Not so discreetly, she turned around and confirmed her suspicion. He lifted a hand in a wave, then walked away.

This charade had lost its appeal. At any moment, she feared she would bubble over with the truth. The words raced around in her mind like a dog chasing its tail.

I love you, Hayes. I’ve always loved you. I was just too scared of losing you to tell you the truth.

She shoved the words aside.

It was the Christmas magic working overtime. The gentle covering of snow blanketing the cobblestone outside. The beautifully decorated trees sparkling all over the room. The smells of delicious food, brought in from several local restaurants, filling the air.

And her overactive imagination.

That’s all it was.

She found Howie chatting with a chef. When Pru walked up, she caught a snippet of their conversation about lobsters, which Howie seemed thoroughly engrossed in. When he noticed her, his grin widened.

“There’s the woman of the hour,” he said. “Love the tree, Pru. The whole vibe is spot-on. Is the big one covered in surfboards too?”

She smiled. “Thanks, Howie. And yes. I made tons of small surfboard ornaments. All hand painted. You don’t think it’s too bright?” She’d chosen to stick with summer colors for the replica tree, a perfect match of the twenty-foot tree on Main Street. She’d decorated each with hundreds of small pink, turquoise, orange, and green surfboards, each one a tiny work of art.

Nontraditional Christmas was just as fun as traditional Christmas, and Pru felt like her tree celebrated both.

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