Page 56 of Festive Faking
Almost as if he could read my thoughts, Mac squeezed my hip. “What are your plans after graduation?”
My shoulder lifted on a shrug. “Try to get a position as a junior architect at one of the firms where I did internships, I guess.”
Tipping my chin up, Mac stared down at me with his brows furrowed. “Is that your dream? To work your way up from the bottom in someone else’s company?” His eyes softened. “You were destined for greatness, Aspen. I don’t believe for one second that you’ll be happy stifling your creativity working for some big firm where they take that away from you.”
His words, and his confidence in my abilities, had me sucking in a sharp breath before confessing, “No, that’s not my dream.”
His fingers ghosted over my cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Then what is?”
A corner of my lips quirked up as my passion project came to mind—the one that kept me going on the days when I grew homesick and contemplated pulling the plug and returning to a simpler life on the ranch.
“So, you know Main Street?” I began.
Mac chuckled. “I may have been there a time or two, yes.”
His playful teasing gave me the strength to press on. “Well, it’s quaint and cute and homey, and I thought maybe I could work with developers building new housing communities someday, where we put in a Main Street. Bring the small town to the suburbs.”
When he remained silent, simply staring at me, doubt began to creep in, and I backtracked. “It’s silly, I know, but—“
“It’s fucking genius!” he declared, voice rising.
“You really think so?” My lips twisted to the side.
“Are you kidding? I had no idea places like this even existed before this week, and I’m sure I’m not alone. Every town has the same restaurants, the same shops. It’s cookie-cutter; there’s no personal touch. What you’re proposing would foster a sense of community that has fallen by the wayside in most places. People would get to know their neighbors and learn to appreciate those running small businesses, which are the very foundation of this country.” He stared at me in awe before grabbing my face with both hands and pressing a firm kiss to my lips. “You’re absolutely brilliant.”
His compliments and over-the-top enthusiasm for my vision were so unexpected that I was rendered speechless. Of course, I thought it was a great idea, but I was biased. Mac was an impartial party hearing my plans—my dream—for the very first time, and he seemed blown away by its potential.
What if I was really onto something?
He might not realize it, but Mac had given me the push I needed. I would do whatever it took to get this project off the ground. It would take time and investors, sure, but if I could find a way to put myself in front of the right people— maybe offer to bring them here as a part of my sales pitch so they could see the beauty of what I proposed in practice—they might fall in love with it too.
Bringing Mac home for the holidays and getting a chance to see Rust Canyon through his eyes was just the spark I’d needed to reignite my fire.
Chapter 22
Mac
We’d spent most ofthe day fucking and talking in between, but our time was running out. Soon, we were due to meet up with her family, and I worried that Aspen would tighten up once we left the cabin and that the pressure to put on a show would overshadow what we’d shared these past twenty-four hours.
I didn’t know about her, but I didn’t want to “pretend” anymore.
Nothing had ever felt so right as having her tucked into my side—she just fit there. It brought me a peace like I’d never known. She calmed the storm in my mind, and I was able to take deep breaths for the first time in my life.
Her fingers lazily traced a pattern over my bare chest. “Can I ask you something?”
Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, I replied, “You can ask me anything.”
She shifted in my arms, peeking up with those brilliant blue eyes that were so beautiful my breath caught in my throat. Neverin a million years would I have thought we’d find ourselves here, but I wouldn’t take for granted this chance I’d been given.
“Why did you donate so much to the Christmas charity drive?”
Closing my eyes, I raked a hand over the scruff lining my jaw. “You weren’t supposed to find out about that.”
I felt the loss of Aspen’s warmth immediately. When I dared to look at her, she’d put a few feet of space between us on the mattress, sitting on her knees, head cocked to the side.
“Why not?”
Of course she didn’t understand. How could she?
