I didn’t use the secret knock, and when my best friend opened the door, she knew something was wrong. She was wearing a pretty cream sweater dress that wrapped around her curves in an elegant way. Her curls were pulled back into a French twist, her engagement ring shining as brightly as her blue eyes. Still, the flicker of uncertainty was there as she looked at me first, then Hayes. I blinked in the same code as our knock, and she snapped out of it.
“Hi, guys!” she greeted, her voice filled with a holiday cheer I used to dread. Now I was desperate to cling to it. “Come in.”
“Sorry we’re late,” I muttered as she pulled me in for a hug.
The pies were taken from me, and I looked up at Hayes. “I can take those,” I offered.
“I got them,” he said as he gave a nod to Carrie. Then he walked through the living room and into the kitchen. It was at this point that I noticed the living room was empty, the house quiet.
“Where is everyone?” I asked as she grabbed my hand, pulling me to the staircase.
“Late. Everyone is late.” She sighed. “Which is fine because the food isn’t done and Grayson cannot find Tic-Tac anywhere.”
Oh, shit.
The last time they lost that damn cat, he was found two doors down, eating dog food. Tic-Tac was the neighborhood bully, apparently. I cleared my throat and looked over my shoulder.
“Where’s Grayson?”
Where’s Hayes?
“Out on the back porch, talking to Mags,” she answered, dragging me up the stairs. Just then, I heard the back door open and slam shut.
And now, so was my man.
“Okay and where are we going?” I asked, stumbling up behind her, my stomach twisting with anxiety. “Cardinal, I haven’t even taken my damn coat off. What the fuck?”
She didn’t let go of me until she pulled me into the master bedroom. I took a second to look around, because one, I fucking loved this room, and two, they had painted it since the last time I was in here. I turned to her as she shut the door and locked it.
Double shit.
Clearing my throat, I waved my finger in a circle at the ceiling. “The green looks good. Very calming.”
She folded her arms over her chest and bit the inside of her cheek, studying me for a moment. I shifted my weight and unbuttoned my coat, pulling it off and hanging it over my forearm. Her eyes scanned over my vintage purple velvet dress with black roses. It was skintight, hugged my hips, and went down to my ankles. It was also long sleeved and I felt like I’d walked off the set ofCharmedorBuffy.
“I see you’re wearing the dress I found for you,” she noted.
I nodded. “Of course I am,” I scoffed, looking down at it. I pulled up the hem, showing her my fish nets. “Told you it would look good with these.”
“Yes, I have a good eye, and you have excellent style. Very grungy. Very pretty. Very Margo,” she said pointedly before shenarrowed her eyes. “Now tell me what the hell is going on between you and Hayes.”
“I don’t—”
“Don’t bullshit me,” Carrie cut me off, her voice sweet. “When I was over there the other night, he couldn’t take his eyes or hands off you. I could practically hear his heart calling out to yours, like I was in the middle of one of the best written love stories known to humankind.”
“You’re such a romantic,” I muttered dryly.
She raised her finger at me. “Don’t do that either.”
I hated when she and Sarah read me like an open book. If this was the price of having best friends, I was seriously considering returning them to the Best Friends Emporium for the Sad and Lonely.
“Margo, talk to me. Did something happen?” she pressed gently. “I’m here for you, whatever you need.” She paused. “I’m not going to have to hit him with a frying pan, am I?” I did a slow blink, and she held her hands up. “Listen, it will be awkward…you know, because he and Grayson own a business together. They are also best friends, but you’re my best friend, and there’s a code we have to follow. So, if he hurt you, please tell me so I can plan my attack accordingly.”
“Cardinal—”
“Granted, it would be ideal to kick him out before the other guests arrive, but he is a fan of my roasted carrots…And since he did save my life, I think he needs a carrot. But I can definitely bop him before dessert. He won’t get to taste your pies. That is my vow to you.”
“No,” I whispered. “He hasn’t hurt me.” Her shoulders sagged with relief, and I looked over to the window seat. “Not yet, at least.”