Page 3 of Festive Faking
Those chocolate-brown eyes pinned me with a stare so intense I began to squirm in my seat. I felt exposed, like he could see straight into the heart of me—not that he needed much help with that after I’d dumped all my problems on him.
Mac lifted one shoulder. “It’s only a week, right? We pretend to be dating, put on a good show for your family and, apparently, the townsfolk too?” He looked at me in question, and I nodded. “Then, when we get back to California, you give it a few weeks and say we split up. Hell, you can even tell them that you broke up with me. I mean, it won’t be particularly believable because who would dump me? But this is your thing, and I’m trying to be nice.”
“Cocky as ever,” I muttered beneath my breath.
“Heard that.” His smirk was audible.
I was out of options. I either took Mac’s offer and we fake-dated our way through a Rust Canyon Christmas, or I came clean and spent a week overhearing how it was such a shame that I prioritized my career over family values.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I made my choice, praying I wouldn’t regret it. “Fine. You can come home with me for the holidays.”
It was the lesser of two evils and only by a hairsbreadth, because Mac could only torture me about this until May and then I would never have to see him again.
“Great.” He clapped his hands loudly, resulting in several hissedshh’sfrom fellow librarygoers. “When do we leave?”
I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.
“The nineteenth.”
“Got it.” Mac gave me a mock salute.
I turned to leave, but he called out to my back, “Oh, and one more thing?”
Peeking over my shoulder, I raised an eyebrow.
“Where’s ‘home’?”
For the first time today, the tiniest smile crept onto my lips. “Oklahoma.”
Watching those brown eyes widen in shock as he realized just what he’d gotten himself into was deeply satisfying. Especially when he mouthed,Oklahoma.
Buckle up, buddy. You’re riding shotgun on this game of festive faking.
Chapter 2
Mac
“This is why Ididn’t want to fly commercial,” I grumbled.
“Do you hear yourself right now?” Aspen scoffed from the seat beside me. “‘This is why I didn’t want to fly commercial,’” she repeated my words in a mocking tone. “Check your privilege for a minute. You’re seated in first class—”
“You’re welcome, by the way.” I upgraded our seats the minute she sent over the flight details, but I never received a thank you.
Her blue eyes narrowed. “But you’re complaining that the food and beverage service was disrupted by turbulence. You’re not going to die in the next two hours if you don’t eat. I promise.”
My stomach rumbled over the hum of the jet engines, and I shot her a pointed look. “I might.”
“You’re gonna need to tone this down before we land because there’s no way anyone is gonna believe I brought home some entitled pretty boy who’s never gotten his hands dirty a day in his life.”
A smirk tugged at my lips. “You think I’m pretty?”
“Pretty annoying,” she shot back like we were slinging insults back and forth on a school playground.
Aspen Sullivan was feisty; I had to hand her that. It was far too much fun riling her up.
Though I’d never admit it to her face, she was a gifted architect. Whoever hired her after graduation would be lucky to have her. Her designs were next-level.
And don’t get me started on how beautiful she was. Strawberry-blonde hair hung in loose, natural waves around her heart-shaped face, which didn’t have a stitch of makeup on it more often than not. Those freckles dusted across her porcelain skin mesmerized me. I might tease her about them, but I’d never seen someone embrace their natural beauty the way Aspen did. For some reason, it drew me to her.
