been selected for this task—if you’re thinking this isn’t something you’ll be good at, you’re not alone. Every Noni Rose before you has felt the same. But let me assure you, the magic has chosen you. Like a sprinkle of fairy dust.
Best of luck to you.
Magically yours,
Noni Rose
When he finished, he closed the notebook and set it on the table. “So, you’ll help me?”
“Exactly how do you want me to help?”
“Help me find Peggy Swinton’s soulmate.”
Her face brightened into a wide grin. “There’s hope for you yet, my friend.”
“Well, don’t tell anyone,” he said. “I’ve got a reputation to protect.”
She laughed. “You and me both. I can’t have the guys who come into the shop thinking I’ve gone soft. I’ll lose all credibility.”
And just like that, the easy banter was back.
But as he lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, it wasn’t the banter that he replayed in his mind. It was the strange shift between them when they were talking about soulmates and the faint, nagging question that asked if maybe he’d already found his.
Chapter 6
Pancakes and Bacon
Prudence Sutton had not gone soft. She was not now, nor would she ever be, the kind of hopeless romantic who made poor decisions. She’d built her business on relationships with men who regularly hit on her, and the only way she’d done that was to prove to them she wasn’t going to go weak in the knees because they told her she was pretty.
Why, then, did she see the need to admit she was holding out for a soulmate to the one person she believed might actually be her soulmate?
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
She had a feeling that conversation was going to get brought up again, probably in the form of mockery, and she’d regretted it the second she said it. Hayes, like the guys in the surf shop, had an opinion about her—and that opinion kept her cover intact. An opinion that said Prudence Sutton had no interest in romance.
It kept him from ever suspecting she would even think of wanting anything other than friendship with him.
It’s why they worked.
If they were going to spend the next couple of weeks together, she was going to have to be more careful. Otherwise, she’d spook him, and the very thing she was trying to prevent would happen—he’d deem their relationship “too complicated,” and she’d go the way of the rest of the women in his life.
Why had she agreed to this? Matchmaking Peggy was one thing, but doing it with Hayes was something else entirely. They were bound to have conversations about what made two people compatible—how was she supposed to play it cool then?
The knock on her door forced her to stop thinking crazy. Seconds later, Hayes’s beautiful face appeared in her entryway.
She looked up from the stove, where she stood making pancakes and bacon, and flashed him a we’re just friends smile.
“You’re cooking,” he said.
“I figured we needed some sustenance to get us through the day,” she said.
He strode toward her, picked up a piece of bacon from the napkin on the counter, broke it in half, and popped a piece in his mouth. “Yeah, matchmaking is bound to take it out of us.”
She gave him a shove, and only then did she take a moment to look him in the face. His eyes were drawn, his skin pale. “Did you sleep last night?”
He ate the other half of his bacon and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Sure. About three hours.”
She turned off the burner and carried a plate of pancakes to the table. “Three hours?”
He set his mug down at the place she’d set for him, a place where he’d eaten a hundred times before. There was nothing more special or intimate about this time—so why did it feel like there was?
Wishful thinking . . . ?
Yes, her imagination did have a way of running off on its own, especially where Hayes was concerned.
“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