Winter chuckled, indulging in her food while Maybelle went back and forth on why she loved and hated her hometown. Apparently she was the town spinster, and everyone always knew everyone else’s business, and what she really wanted to do was get out and have a family and go to beauty school to become a stylist.

“You want to do hair?” Winter asked, perking up at the information.

“I love styling hair. I do all the weddin’s back home.”

Winter’s gaze drifted over Maybelle’s perfect curls. “You do your own? Because I’ve been jealous of your hair for two days now.”

“No,” she gasped. “I’vebeen eyeing yours. Look at this.” She grabbed a chunk of Winter’s hair, yanking her a little. Winter laughed and moved her head so it didn’t hurt. “I could just braid the heck out of it. Maybe put it up with some pink and blue floral sprinkles. It’s the perfect shade for a pop of color.”

“You should,” Winter said, sitting back as soon as Maybelle let go. They’d grabbed the attention of about half the table, but neither seemed to mind.

“Should what?” Maybelle’s brows pulled together. “Do your hair?”

Winter nodded. “Do it for the dinner dance on Saturday evening.”

“You better not be yankin’ my chain, Princess, or I—”

“No fooling. I’d really like you to.” She could only imagine the skinny she’d get during an hour or more styling session, not to mention how great her hair was going to look. She could give her hairdresser a night off, and Bianca would gladly take it.

“Then heck yes, Princess!” she shouted, and everyone at the table laughed. The servers came out and swapped the empty soup bowls for full dessert plates. Winter started dancing in her seat again, but looked up this time to watch Will. A smile grew on both of their lips when their eyes met.

“We need to talk,” she mouthed.

“Okay,” he mouthed back, and the jump in her stomach made her actually catch just the smallest amount of air in her seat. Maybe having Will to bounce matchmaking ideas off of wouldn’t be so bad this time around.