Page 8 of Festive Faking
Hanging my head, I mumbled, “Sorry, Mama,” as dread settled in my gut.
We’d barely been here ten minutes, and already Mac and I were butting heads. I should’ve known this was a terrible idea, but I’d been desperate. No way would we survive a whole week without blowing our cover.
But Mac’s charming voice had my gaze snapping up when he said, “Don’t be too harsh on her, Daisy. Our meal was canceled on the flight when the pilot requested the flight attendants take their seats for safety during a bout of turbulence. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how Aspen can get a little hangry.”
Musical laughter filled the kitchen, and Mama replied, “Oh, don’t I know it. I’m surprised Jett didn’t stop off when you told him you hadn’t eaten. The drive from the airport is so far.”
“It’s been a long day of traveling,” I explained. “Just wanted to get home.”
“Not sure how I can argue with that. My heart’s whole with you home, sweetheart.” She smiled warmly at me, which only fed into the guilt weighing on my heart for leaving my family behind.
Very few in our community felt compelled to leave Rust Canyon. Most born and raised here loved our town. They couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. That’s why it had set tongues to wagging when I took off for the big city. They simply couldn’t understand why I could want more than our town had to offer.
The timer on the oven sounded, and Tripp waved Mama off when she moved to take the rolls out, donning an oven mitt and pulling out the baking sheet himself. The rich aroma of freshly baked rolls filled the room, and my mouth filled with saliva. Grudgingly, I could admit—only to myself—that I was starved, and skipping that meal on the plane might’ve left me slightly irritable as a result.
Tripp piled the rolls into the breadbasket before placing it in the middle of the kitchen table.
That’s when I realized how long my father had been gone. He should’ve made it into the house by now.
Almost to myself, I mused, “Wonder what’s taking Daddy so long.”
Mama didn’t skip a beat as she worked on moving the rest of the dishes to the table. “Oh, he’s taking your bags to the cabin. Should be back any minute.”
Wait, did she say . . .
“The cabin?” I croaked out.
“Mm-hmm,” she hummed.
“Mac booked a room at Susie’s inn for the week.”
Turning around, she brushed both hands off on her apron. “No reason the two of you can’t stay here. I like having you close.”
“I’ll be here. It’s Mac who’s staying in town.”
“Oh, nonsense.” Mama waved a hand through the air. “I was young once myself, you know, and I’m under no illusions that my daughter and the man she’s brought home aren’t intimately acquainted.”
“Mama!” I shrieked, my face flaming.
If only she knew the truth. Not only were Mac and Inothaving sex, but I hadn’t had sex with anyone.
And because I wasn’t already praying for the ground to open up and swallow me whole while I died of embarrassment, she kept going. “It took a while to convince your father, but he agreed it would be best to have you in the cabin so he didn’t overhear anything that might be going on between the two of you at night.”
I gripped the back of a chair so tightly that I worried I might leave nail marks in the wood. “It’s really not necessary. We don’t mind spending a few nights sleeping separately out of respect, right, Mac?”
My eyes darted to where my partner in crime leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, not making a move to help me out. His brown eyes sparkled with amusement as he watched me flounder trying to find a way to talk myself out of this one.
“Mac?” I prompted, my throat closing up the longer he remained silent about our sleeping arrangements.
I realized he was in the middle of the last favor I’d asked of him, but did he honestly think sleeping in the same bed was a good idea?
Oh! It hit me like a bolt of lightning.
Maybe he didn’t realize how cramped the cabin was. In his world, cabins were massive, more like the main house we were currently standing in. If I explained, surely, he’d be quick to back me up in shutting my mother down.
“It’s a refurbished one-bedroom cabin. The original house on the ranch from the late 1800s.”
Take the hint, dude.
