Page 26 of Festive Faking
He might be gruff and eye me with suspicion for dating his only daughter, but Jett Sullivan had my respect. All business owners did. It took grit to strike out on your own, to leave behind the safety net that came with a nine-to-five gig. I wasn’t sure I would have the guts to do it.
“I used to have a little cot where you’re lying now and a basket of toys in the corner. It was cramped, especially once Tripp came along, but some of my fondest family memories come from within these four walls.”
I longed for the closeness the Sullivans shared and Aspen clearly cherished. I wanted to bottle it, keeping it close to my heart to remind myself that something better existed on those days when I felt isolated and alone.
The craving for a true family grew more intense the longer I spent with this one.
Maybe if I tried hard enough, I could recreate it on my own.
As much as I wished that Aspen could be the one to help me in that endeavor, I knew it would take more than a few kisses for her to see that there was so much more to me than my family name. She’d offered comfort yesterday when I dropped the wallssurrounding my heart and spoke about my mother for the first time in decades.
Under the cover of night, she’d found the courage to be vulnerable.
What if the key to becoming something more was by following her lead?
Taking a leap of faith, I confessed, “I let people believe that I’m an entitled playboy who’s spent most of his adult life partying his way around the globe because it’s easier than admitting I’ve been dragging my feet, delaying the inevitability of becoming another corporate robot like my father and sister.”
The steady cadence of Aspen’s breathing halted.
Tossing an arm over my eyes, I cursed myself for laying it all on the line. Her family poured their literal blood, sweat, and tears into their business, getting their hands dirty day after day. Mine sat behind computer screens, running numbers and delegating tasks from their shiny skyscraper. It wasn’t nearly the same.
Most would deem it ungrateful to spurn the opportunity sitting right before me, but the walls were closing in, threatening to crush me, and I wanted out.
Fingers brushed my bicep, and I jolted.
Swallowing, I dared to uncover my face, only to find Aspen leaning over the edge of the bed, her concerned expression staring down at me.
“Is it really that bad?”
I gave a slight nod of confirmation. “It’s not the life I want for myself.”
She rested her chin on her forearm. “If you could do anything in the world, what would you choose?”
That was an easy answer. “Firefighter.”
Even in the dark, I could see her shock. “Really? You want to run into burning buildings?”
Tucking one arm behind my head, I replied, “I like the idea of helping people. It’s dangerous, sure, but I’d rather do something with purpose than sit in an office. I like designing, but it was a path I chose because the idea of running numbers and barking orders turns my stomach.”
She let out a soft huff. “For someone who only ‘likes’ designing, you sure are good at it.”
“Not as good as you,” I countered.
Scoffing, she shot back, “You don’t mean that.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“No, but—”
“You’re talented, no question about it. Not only that, you’re passionate about architecture. I’ve seen the way your eyes light up when an idea strikes and you can’t wait even a single second before you’re sketching an outline. With all the design software at our fingertips, you never miss an opportunity to freehand. It’s impressive.” I paused. “Aspen,youare impressive.”
Her lips parted as she gaped at me.
I couldn’t take back my words, nor did I want to. I promised myself I was going to let my feelings for her become known this week. So, tonight, when an opportunity presented itself, I took it.
What happened next was up to her.
When her face slid from view, my heart sank.
