Page 22 of A Match Made at Christmas

“I told you I don’t sleep well,” he said.

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me why.” She topped off her own cup of coffee, added peppermint creamer and stirred, watching the colors meld together to form the perfect shade of brown.

He inhaled, then let out a sigh.

“Not yet?” she asked.

He found her eyes and shook his head.

“Let’s eat.” She couldn’t push. Whatever this was that was bothering him, it was big enough to steal something from Hayes that made him who he was. That joyful, outgoing personality he’d always possessed had been doused by something he didn’t want to talk about.

What if he’d had his heart broken? What if one of his casual relationships had actually meant more to him than he’d let on?

If that was the case, it was better that he stayed quiet. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“So, we should get a plan,” she said.

“Right.” He poured a ridiculous amount of syrup over his buttered pancakes.

She quirked a brow, nodding at his plate.

“What?”

“Do you think you’ve got enough syrup?”

He picked up the bottle, turned it over, and squeezed another circle onto his plate. “Now I do.”

She shook her head. “You’re like a twelve-year-old boy.” If only that made him less—and not more—adorable. These childlike qualities only endeared her to him, and she hated that.

“Maybe we should talk about Peggy,” Pru said, desperately needing a mental subject change.

“So, we’re actually doing this.” He said it like a statement, not a question.

She stopped mid-bite. “Didn’t we say we were?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s just so bizarre. And Aunt Nellie left for Paris today. What would she have done if I’d said no?”

Pru grinned. “She knew you wouldn’t say no. She flattered you into saying yes.”

“You think I’m that easy?” he asked. “That a little flattery will make me do something I’m morally opposed to?”

“Morally opposed?” She took a bite. Her pancakes were perfect today. She wouldn’t let on that she’d tried extra hard. And she certainly wouldn’t show him the pile of burnt ones that had landed in the garbage can. “Why?”

He ate another piece of bacon. Oh, to be a man and eat bacon like it was fruit. “I just don’t think this is how it works. It’s like online dating—not natural.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“You think so?”

“Sure,” she said. “First, you’re a good-looking single guy, which already puts you at an advantage. Second, you’re good with people, so you have no problem meeting women. But for someone like Peggy Swinton, that’s not reality.”

“You think I’m good-looking?” He grinned.

She rolled her eyes. “Is that all you heard?”

He shrugged. “I’ve learned to filter out what’s not important.”

“You’re right, it’s weird Aunt Nellie picked you as her replacement.” She took another bite. “You know nothing about the plight of the single woman.”

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