Page 31 of Festive Faking
My giggles at his display couldn’t be contained. “People are staring, you know.”
“Let ’em look!” he declared. “These ribs are orgasmic, and it’s a compliment to the chef that I make my pleasure known.”
Both hands flew to my cheeks, which I was sure were flaming at how easily he compared the food to the height of sexual pleasure.
“Careful. You’re in the Bible Belt, and there are kids around. Don’t wanna lose all your new besties by pissing off the God-fearing folks of this town.”
He raised an unimpressed eyebrow at my attempt to get him to tone it down.
“Naomi!” he curled his fingers in acome-hithermotion toward the owner standing near the hostess stand.
Lips folded inward from attempting to fight a smile, she eyed his practically licked-clean plate. “Food to your liking, Mac?”
The glasses rattled when he dropped both forearms to the high-top table. His tone grew conspiratorial. “Tell it to me straight. The secret ingredient. It’s crack, isn’t it?”
I wanted to crawl under the table and die; I was so mortified. But Naomi’s head dropped back, and her howling laughter was so loud they probably heard it out on the street.
First sex, and now drugs. What’s next? Rock and roll?
When she recovered, she placed a hand on his shoulder like he was one of her regulars. “That’s mighty high praise, to hear you’re addicted after one taste.”
“Naomi. I’venevertasted barbeque sauce like this. I didn’t want to waste a drop!”
Maybe she did put crack in there because he was acting strange.
“Oh!” His dark eyes grew large. “You could bottle it and sell it to stores around the country. I’ll help you!”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Time to shut this down. He was making promises he wouldn’t be able to keep. We were leaving for LA in a few days, and he’d never set foot in this town again. My reputation was the one that would take a hit when he failed to deliver.
“We’ll take the check, Nay.” I smiled politely at her.
Ducking her head, she took the hint, but she winked at Mac before she left the table. “Hot sauce. That’s what gives it that zing.”
He snapped. “That’s what it is! I couldn’t put my finger on it. Was gonna keep me up all night, I swear.”
Naomi shook her head at his antics as she walked away, but I couldn’t stop gaping at the man sitting opposite me.
He was giving me whiplash.
Chapter 12
Aspen
Questions about Mac’s involvementin the church’s holiday gift outreach program plagued me for the rest of the day, but I wasn’t brave enough to ask a single one of them in the light of day.
When night fell, we retreated to the cabin, and Mac declared he was going to take a quick shower before bed.
That’s when I saw my opportunity.
Last night, we’d been able to speak freely, without fear of judgment, as we lay shrouded in darkness. If I moved quickly, I could be tucked into bed before he made it out of the bathroom and finally get the answers I craved.
Rushing around the room, I tossed on my flannel pajama set and had one knee on the bed, ready to crawl in, when I cursed under my breath.
I needed to brush my teeth.
And where was my toothbrush? In the bathroom, of course.
My courage to have this conversation was waning by the second, and I knew I might abandon the whole thing if I didn’t beat him to bed, left forever wondering why he agreed to be a silent benefactor for people he’d never met.
