“I know it seems crazy, kiddo, but Helen always told me when you know, you know.” She eyed him. “And I know.”
“Well, I know that you are crazy,” he said. “Noni Rose is a woman.”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t have to be.”
He stared at her, trying to determine exactly how serious she was. Judging by her unchanging expression—very.
“Dudes do not become matchmakers,” he said.
“It’s a temporary gig,” she repeated, as if that made it better.
“It’s a gig I don’t want,” he said.
“Hayes, I didn’t want to bring it up, but you do know that you were the only family member who didn’t make it home for my birthday party in September.”
September. Right. He should’ve come home for the party. In hindsight, that would’ve saved him a world of grief. “The only one?”
She nodded. “And, I might add, you are my favorite so I was especially disappointed.”
He grinned. “I’m your favorite.”
Aunt Nellie smiled back. “As if you didn’t know.” She pulled a photo out of her top desk drawer and slid it across the desk. “This is the woman I’m working on matching, and I just have a feeling if I leave for Paris without a replacement, it’s not going to happen for her.”
He looked at the photo. A plain-looking woman with kind eyes looked back at him. She was familiar. “Why her?”
“It’s hard to explain. It’s a feeling. It’s like the Lord puts someone in my path, and I just know.”
“So, nobody is asking you to do anything,” he said.
“Technically, no,” she said. “But it’s a feeling. Something happens, and it’s obvious this person needs my help. It’s like a light bulb going off, or an idea popping into your head. Like magic.”
“That’s not magic, Aunt Nellie,” he said. “That’s nosiness. And maybe a little blasphemous if you’re trying to bring the Lord into it.”
“You don’t understand,” she said. “But you will.”
He shook his head. “I won’t.”
“It’s just while I’m gone,” she said. “Christmas is the most magical time for matchmaking. Do you know since I started, I’ve had a successful match every single Christmas? It’s because magic makes the air electric. It’s easy. And trust me, you will be great at this.”
He shook his head. “Why on earth would you think this would be something I would want to do?”
She shrugged. “You’re great with people. You know how to get them to open up. You’re charming and everyone likes you. Plus, I think you have a sixth sense about these things.”
“I don’t.”
She squinted, sizing him up. “Well, if I’m wrong, no harm done. But if I’m right, one Miss Peggy Swinton finds the love of her life.”
“I can’t do this, Aunt Nellie,” he said. “I’m only here for a couple of weeks.”
“You can and you will,” she said. “And I think you’re going to make a wonderful matchmaker. Trust me. I’m never wrong about these things.”
“I would be a terrible matchmaker, Aunt Nellie,” he said. “I don’t even believe in love.”
She scoffed. “Nonsense. You just need to see the magic for yourself.”
Hayes tried not to roll his eyes. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to be able to argue his way out of this one. Nellie obviously had her mind made up, and everyone knew when Nellie had her mind made up, there was no changing it.
“It’s only until I return from Paris, and then I will let you retire.” She waved him off. “You’re the only one I’ve even considered for this job, Hayes, you should know that. I believe you have a gift.”
He drew in a deep breath and let it out in one long stream. “You’re not going to let me out of this, are you?”
She only smiled.
He groaned. “I know I’m gonna regret this.”
But Aunt Nellie was unconcerned with his concerns and had already moved on to explaining the rules.
And that’s how Hayes McGuire became Noni Rose, the famous Nantucket matchmaker.
Chapter 4
150 Balsam Trees and Cobblestone Streets
Sometimes when Prudence got to working on a board, she completely lost track of time.
Other times, like when she was going to be meeting Hayes McGuire to go to the tree lighting, she watched the clock tick off the minutes with all the speed of a sleeping sloth.
Now, only fifteen minutes before he was scheduled to arrive, she stood in front of the mirror trying to decide if her outfit conveyed the appropriate amount of nonchalance.
She’d gone to the shop earlier that day, but she couldn’t focus. She had two custom orders with deadlines, and they needed to get finished, but just knowing Hayes was back on the island had destroyed her sense of calm.
She’d gone to Thanksgiving dinner and, as she’d expected, he treated her just like one of his siblings. She might as well have been his blood relative for as much attention as he gave her. And she was fine with that. After all, she loved the McGuire family, and they clearly loved her.
Like a daughter.
She was practically one of them.
She should be grateful. Not every girl had another family on standby, ready and waiting with open arms. Pru’s real parents lived in New Jersey. Or Ohio now. She couldn’t remember. She’d come to Nantucket for a job one summer after high school and never left.
And they’d never come to visit.
Needless to say, it wasn’t a great relationship.
But the McGuires had shown her that families could be wonderful. Every misconception she had about mothers and fathers and their kids had been disproven because of Hayes and his family. They got into each other’s business. They teased each other. They were there for each other. They were friends. So, for them to practically adopt her was a gift.
And she should be grateful. Not sad that their middle son didn’t view her as anything other than a good buddy.
Tonight, Prudence had curled her long dark hair, letting it fall in waves down her back. She wore a pair of dark jeans, a cream cowl neck sweater, and brown boots. Did the outfit say I’m not trying to impress you? She considered changing for the thirty-seventh time, but the knock on the door told her she was out of time.
She raced down from her bedroom, which overlooked the main living area of the small cottage. The house was tiny, but she’d worked hard to turn it into something she was proud of. The wood floors had been refinished and now had a natural, elegant feel to them. The walls were white shiplap, but she’d found a lot of ways to infuse the space with color. Pillows, rugs, artwork—all explosions of creativity—and, of course, there was a custom turquoise and pink surfboard hanging on the wall above the sofa.
She pulled the door open and found Hayes standing there, looking like he’d just swallowed a goldfish. “What’s wrong with you?”
He stared at her.
“Are you sweating? It’s freezing outside. Why are you sweating?” She pulled him by the arm, tugging him across the threshold and into her cottage.