Page 13 of Festive Faking
My stomach churned as I pictured their disappointment if they ever learned the truth. We were so close that secrets didn’t exist between us. But I was just so goddamn tired of their looks of pity when I picked a guy who couldn’t be less interested in me, time after time.
A knock sounded on the door. “Aspen? Everything okay in there, sweetheart?”
“Fine.” My voice came out weak and unconvincing.
“Honey, you don’t need to be embarrassed about being affectionate with your boyfriend. To be honest, it’s nice to see a man staring at my baby girl like she’s hung the moon.”
What?
I flung the door open. “He does?”
My mama’s warm blue eyes softened as she tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Is it really that surprising? You’re a smart, beautiful girl with a kind heart. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
Here I was, struggling like hell to pretend as if Mac and I were madly in love and feeling like I was failing miserably, yet my family—at least my mom—were already convinced it was true.
Mama sighed wistfully. “The way he held you in the kitchen? Took me back to when your daddy and I first fell in love. Those early days are full of excitement, and you are so wrapped up in each other that the world could be burning down around you and you wouldn’t notice. You should enjoy it because that feeling doesn’t last forever.”
I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”
“Love changes and matures as you do. It becomes deeper, a part of your soul. Intimacy is less about tearing each other’s clothes off and more about closeness and connection.”
Longing stirred within my chest. I might never get to experience the type of long-lasting love my parents shared, and if by some miracle I did, it wouldn’t be with Mac, no matter what my mother imagined she saw between us.
She clasped my hands. “Ready to go back in?”
Silently, I nodded, letting her lead me toward the kitchen.
Everyone was hard at work, too focused on their baking to comment on my abrupt departure.
Everyone except Mac.
He leaned against the countertop, his deep brown eyes filled with something I couldn’t place. If I hadn’t known any better, I might’ve labeled it as concern, but that couldn’t be right. Mac didn’t care about me, didn’t worry about me. He was here to do me a favor. Though I still wasn’t sure what he got out of it other than not spending the holidays alone.
Mama gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before nudging me toward him.
Chewing my lower lip, I stepped closer, dropping my eyes to the floor as my cheeks instantly heated again.
“Hey.” Fingers gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. His brow furrowed as he searched my eyes. “You okay?”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I let out a shaky breath. “Just needed a minute.”
Mac’s heavy sigh was audible. “Aspen . . .”
I took a step back, and his hand fell away. “It’s fine. Seriously.”
Moving past him, I focused on my abandoned dough, only to discover that while I’d taken my breather, Mac had layered the red and green sheets we were working on when I left, in addition to making an undyed sheet and stacking it as well.
Surprised, I whipped around to face him. “You finished?”
“Not quite,” he countered. “Left the rolling and sprinkle privileges to you. Figured I owed you at least that much after I ran you off.”
Guilt burned through my veins that I hadn’t been exactly nice to the guy who offered to help me out when I’d found my back against the wall.
Ducking my head, I gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”
Mac gestured an arm toward where the stacked dough lay. “Care to do the honors?”
Gathering up some flour and brushing it onto my hands so they wouldn’t stick to the fresh dough, I lifted the edge, carefully rolling it until it resembled a long log.
