“Holidates,” he repeated. “You know, like, ice skating and drinking cocoa. Christmas tree decorating. Sleigh rides. That kindof thing. So, as far as my participation being real goes, I will definitely be there… but I will not actually be looking for love with twelve different men.” He chuckled uncomfortably.
I pictured a parade of Legacy’s eligible bachelors being trotted out for Adrian’s enjoyment, each one performing “spontaneous” holiday activities while the viewing public cooed over their charming mountain-town romance. It wasn’t necessarily offensive, but something about it felt hollow—like staging wedding photos before you’ve even fallen in love.
I stared at him for a long moment. He wasn’t the only one who was suddenly uncomfortable. “Are you single?”
He frowned. “Yes, of course. Or else I’d have my partner here going on these dates with me.”
For some reason, picturing him with a partner made me more unsettled. But then I realized the opportunity this presented.
“I have a third rule,” I said abruptly.
It was Adrian’s turn to blink. “Okay…?”
“Have you thought about how you’re going to find these twelve unsuspecting gentlemen?”
Adrian frowned. “I mean, not really? Grindr or something. In the grand tradition. Isn’t there a search and rescue training program in town?” He smiled, and his eyelids dropped into a deliberately sultry pose. “Finding a date’s never been a problem for me in the past.”
An inconvenient, utterly unwanted bolt of lust whipped through me, just as he’d intended. I resisted the urge to laugh out loud… or punch him.
“Yeah, no,” I said, my voice deeper than I’d meant it to be. “That’s not gonna work here. I will source you a dozen gay men.”
He grinned and opened his mouth to make a joke, but before he could, I continued.
“Legacy’s a small town, Hayes. And do you know what the prime directive of small towns is?”
He shook his head.
“Matchmaking. There is nothing that gets them more excited than a single man or woman. Right now, they are trying to makemetheir mission, and any single man in town is fair game.”
Adrian chuckled uncomfortably. “But… I’ve only been here two days. No one even knows me?—”
“Yes,” I agreed.
As if on cue, my phone buzzed with another text. I didn’t need to check it to know it was probably Avery Marian, or Mrs. Hoffman, or any of the self-appointed matchmakers who’d been trying to set me up since I came out at sixteen. The same well-meaning busybodies who’d arranged five “accidental” meetings with eligible men at the Fall Festival, who still invited me to dinner and “coincidentally” had their nephew/grandson/family friend visiting from out of town.
“Since they saw you talking to me at the hardware store earlier,” I continued, “at least a dozen people have started planning our wedding. And I mean that literally. Did you have a preference between a Christmas or New Year’s ceremony, by the by?”
Adrian swallowed hard, and I nodded grimly.
“Exactly. I need this town to lay off making matches for me. The best way to do that is to make you my sacrificial lamb and get them to matchmake for you instead. After all, you’ll be going home as soon as this project is done. So… you and me, not a thing. You andothereligible men, not a problem. That’s rule three. Got it?”
He snorted a soft laugh. “Ah. You seem to be playing fast and loose with my love life.”
“Take it or leave it.”
“I believe we both know I’m going to take it.” Adrian’s smilewas radiant, and though I knew it was probably practiced and perfectly calibrated, it was still annoyingly effective. “When can you start?”
“Tomorrow morning. I’ll need today to rearrange some things at the store, grab my equipment… and find some poor schmuck to set you up with.”
He ignored my jab. “Perfect. Should we meet at?—”
“We’ll meet at the Pinecone at seven,” I interrupted. “If you’re serious about experiencing Legacy, we start with breakfast where the locals eat.”
The Pinecone had been serving the same menu since I was a kid—chicken-fried steak and eggs that could cure any hangover, sourdough pancakes that put IHOP to shame, and coffee strong enough to strip paint. If Adrian wanted authentic Legacy experiences, we’d start with food that hadn’t been styled for Instagram.
Adrian looked like he was about to protest the early hour but caught himself. “Seven it is.”
I stood, having made my decision faster than I’d planned. “Dress warmly. We’ll be outside early.”
