Page 12 of Festive Faking
“The green, Aspen. Is it thin enough for me to place the red dough on top?”
Brought back to reality, I took a quick step back from the countertop, catching my heel on a chair I’d forgotten was placed nearby.
Almost as if in slow motion, I realized I was falling. Flour flew as my arms flailed, trying to gain purchase on anything that might save me from hitting the hardwood floor in a way that would end up with a trip to the ER an hour away.
“Whoa, easy there.”
The air was forced from my lungs as arms wrapped around my torso, and the sensation of freefalling abruptly halted. Stunned, I blinked up at the chocolate-brown eyes staring down at me. My mouth moved, but no sound came out. There was a buzzing in my ears as everything around us faded away, and all I could focus on was Mac.
His touch was gentle as he cradled me in his arms, our bodies flush from knees to chest.
Why did my skin feel too tight all of a sudden? Why was my throat closing up? And dear God, why was there a throbbing between my thighs?
“Aspen?” His gaze searched mine. “Are you okay?”
Swallowing thickly, I managed to nod. “Uh-huh.”
Gently, he eased us upright, keeping his hold locked around my waist. Even through the fabric of my sweater, I could feel the heat from his palm searing into my back.
“Oldest trick in the book.” Meemaw’s voice, across the kitchen, was filled with humor. “Pretend to trip so your man can feel you up in front of your family. Used to pull that one with Milton all the time before we were married.”
Without skipping a beat, Mac called back, “You caught us.”
My mother playfully scolded Meemaw before saying, “Oh, to be young again.”
I buried my flaming face in Mac’s chest, which vibrated with his deep chuckle.
“Not funny,” I mumbled.
His hot breath kissed the shell of my ear. “I beg to differ. My family isn’t nearly as much fun.”
My brain tickled with something he’d said to me in the library the day we put the wheels into motion on this holiday hoax.
“The step-monster will be self-medicating the entire time because my father is married to his job. My older sister is a chip off the old block, trying desperately to show that she doesn’t need a penis to head up the company, so she’ll be right alongside him at the office while the rest of their employees have the day off.”
He’d dropped breadcrumbs that his family life was less than ideal, but I had been too caught up in myself to pick them up.
Peeking up at him shyly, I whispered, “Thank you.”
This close, I had a nice view of how plush his lips were when a corner of them tipped up.
“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t catch you when you fall?”
My chest tightened, and I shoved at his shoulders weakly until he released me from his hold. Gripping both sides of the countertop, I dropped my head, wishing more than anything that this was all a bad dream. When it sank in that this was real life and I was too tangled up in this farce to back out now, I excused myself to use the restroom.
I needed space. Because being exposed to Maccallan Blaze for an extended period of time was fucking with my head.
Pushing into the first-floor powder room, I locked the door behind me. Turning the faucet on the sink, I let the cool water run over my fingers before bringing them to my face. Palms pressed to my cheeks, I sighed on contact, my overheated skin in desperate need of relief.
My eyes flicked up to view my appearance in the mirror, and I sucked in a sharp breath. I was beet-red, my freckles invisible beneath the deep blush that had taken over my face.
“Oh God.” I let out a deep groan. There was no way Mac hadn’t noticed how deeply affected I was by his mostly innocent touch. The man was merely saving me from cracking a bone on the unyielding floor, and here I was, acting like a preteen girl whose first crush had caught her staring in the hallway.
I spoke to my reflection. “Get it together, Aspen. Everyone is going to see right through this act if you can’t chill the fuck out.”
Closing my eyes, I tried to take a deep breath, willing what felt like the weight of an elephant settled atop my chest to ease. When I only managed a few shallow intakes of air, I stomped my foot in frustration.
What I wouldn’t give to sneak out the back door, hop onto my horse, Snowflake, and ride like the devil was chasing me. To feel the cold bite of winter wind whipping against my face, my hair flying wild behind me as I let the world fade away. Out there, my mind was always clearer, and that’s what I needed right now—a minute to figure out how I was going to survive this week of lying to my family.
