His Love Match. Shirley Hailstock

food because of the trip to Montana, and she didn’t think to stop and pick something up before pulling into her driveway.

      She was in no mood to go out now. She’d make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and wish she had some milk to go with it. Then a warm bath and bed would round out a long day. Tomorrow promised to be just as long and stressful, but once the reception was underway, Diana would be free to leave. And hopefully put Scott Thomas out of her mind and out of her life.

      As soon as she got the peanut butter from the cabinet, the doorbell rang. Frowning, Diana wondered who would be dropping by without calling. Padding barefoot to the door, she checked the side windows and jumped back. Her heart skipped a beat or two, then hammered in her chest. Scott was out there. What was he doing there?

      “I saw you,” he said through the door. “Open up.”

      Diana hesitated a moment then taking a long sustaining breath she unlocked the door. “What do you want?” she asked, blocking his entrance.

      Scott held up a pizza box and a bottle of wine. “Since you couldn’t come to dinner, I brought it to you.”

      “How do you know I didn’t already eat?”

      “I assumed.” He raised his eyebrows. “And it is an assumption that because you’ve been out of town, you didn’t buy food before you left.”

      “I could have stopped somewhere before I got here.”

      “But you didn’t.” His voice was teasing. “Are you going to invite me in? I’ll let you share my dinner.”

      Diana hesitated a moment. She smelled the cheese and tomato sauce. Her stomach growled. “Didn’t you go to the rehearsal dinner?”

      “I did.”

      “Then you can leave the pizza and return to the bachelor party. I’ll get your money for the delivery,” she said, reducing him to a mere driver. “I’m sure you’ll have much more fun with your friends.”

      Her comment didn’t seem to touch him in any way. He stared at her with the same boyish grin he had when they were students and he was chiding her for some infraction of his personal rules.

      “Can’t. They had shrimp in the salad. I’m allergic to seafood.”

      “You know everyone in the wedding party. I’m sure they’ll miss you.”

      “Let’s see.” Scott tucked the wine under his arm and leaned against the doorjamb, holding the pizza box in two hands. “Sit around with a bunch of guys and drink while watching X-rated movies versus sitting around with a beautiful woman while drinking and...”

      “There is no and,” she finished for him, even though him thinking she was beautiful made her heart do something close to a tribal dance. “The party’s at the Marriott. I’m sure you can find it.” Diana pushed the door to close it, but Scott proved both agile and quick. Taking the tiny space she used to step back, he slipped past her and into the room.

      “Nice house,” he said, looking around. He walked through the foyer and into the main living room. With just a few steps he’d taken ownership of the place. He moved as if he had a right to be here. “Is this the way to the kitchen?”

      Diana closed the door and said nothing. She hadn’t been in Princeton that long, but when she chose this house, it was because the kitchen was state-of-the-art. While the business kept her out of it most of the time, Diana loved to cook.

      Scott walked to the great room-kitchen combination. Diana found him making himself at home as he looked through cabinets for plates. Her shoes lay in front of the sofa and the television was muted on an old black-and-white movie. Even though she was taller than the average woman, Scott dwarfed her, especially since she was without her five-inch shoes.

      “Where do you keep the wineglasses?” he asked, still moving comfortably from cabinet to cabinet.

      Diana went to the china cabinet and took out one glass. Coming back, she set it on the dark granite countertop.

      “Aren’t you having any?”

      “You’re assuming the glass is for you.”

      “You wouldn’t throw a guy out on a cold winter’s night without a glass of his own wine.” Although his voice was completely sincere, he was still teasing, and Diana wasn’t in a teasing mood.

      “I wouldn’t,” Diana told him. “But it’s June, not January. And while it is night, I need a clear head tomorrow. I’ve had a long day and a plane ride, wine is not a good choice for me.”

      “Where did you go again?”

      “Montana.”

      “Montana,” Scott echoed.

      “My partner, Teddy, usually takes care of the wedding planning. I do some of it when we’re busy, but mainly my focus is on additional franchise sales and operations.”

      “Is Teddy a man or a woman?”

      It wasn’t the question Diana expected. She wondered why he wanted to know. Most people wanted to know about franchising: what it cost, how was set it up. Or how she got into building her own business. “Her name is Theresa Granville.”

      Scott nodded. “So, Weddings by Diana can be found in how many places?”

      “Right now we’re in six states. I’m working on adding Montana.” She left it at that, not going into detail about the difficulties she was having. She was sure they would iron out soon and things would return to normal.

      Scott placed two slices of pizza on each plate and offered her one. “Are you putting me out or eating with me?”

      Diana’s stomach growled in answer.

      * * *

      The kitchen was too intimate. It was huge, a chef’s delight with light blue walls and rich cherry cabinetry. The appliances were stainless steel, and everything was coordinated. Diana could easily see her sister and brothers gathering here for a meal, talking over old times and catching up on their lives since they were last together. But she couldn’t sit here with Scott. The space would be too personal, too open to confession. And she didn’t want him to learn anything more about her than she was willing to expose.

      Taking her plate, she went to the great room and wedged herself in the corner of the long sofa. Stretching her legs in front of her, she rested the plate on her lap, preventing him from sitting close to her. He took a place on the love seat across from her.

      Diana took a bite of the pizza triangle. “What is Jennifer going to think about you throwing her numbers off?”

      “I don’t know. She’ll probably force the waitress to sit down just to keep the table balanced.” They both laughed. Diana relaxed a moment. Scott could be charming and funny when he wanted to be. She had only seen a couple of sides of him, the angry landlord and prankster college student.

      “Why did you come here tonight?” she asked. Diana didn’t know if he’d tell her the truth, but she wasn’t a person Scott ever sought out. He was perfectly content to let her remain a face in the crowd unless he wanted to embarrass her in some way.

      “I brought you dinner.”

      Diana acknowledged it by glancing at the plate and the box he’d carried from the kitchen and set on the square coffee table between them.

      “I see, but you were out with a lot of people who know you well enough to include you in their wedding. Yet you left them to come here.” She paused. “You said it had nothing to do with my offices. So what is the draw?”

      “You sell yourself short,” he said.

      Diana laughed. “One thing I don’t do is lie to myself. We never got on all those years ago. We didn’t get along when you tried to evict me.”

      “I never tried to evict you,” he protested.

      Diana