Page 30 of The Mountain Man's Fake Christmas Bride
"Yes," I say softly. "I've never been happier."
It's not a lie. Despite the bizarre circumstances, the last two weeks have been the happiest of my life.
Aunt Mildred nods slowly. "Good. Jared deserves happiness after everything he's been through."
The conversation shifts to dinner plans, but Aunt Mildred's words linger in my mind. Everything he's been through. The accident, obviously. The scars, both visible and hidden. But I sense there's more to the story. More pain behind those blue eyes than he's shared with me.
Later, after dinner, Aunt Mildred retires to the guest room Jared had carefully prepared for her visit, claiming fatigue from travel. The moment her bedroom door closes, I collapse onto the couch with a dramatic exhale.
"That was intense." I kick off my shoes. "Does she always interrogate like she's with the CIA?"
Jared joins me, pulling my feet into his lap. "You did great."
"I felt like I was taking the hardest test of my life." I close my eyes as his thumbs press into my arches, releasing tension I didn't know I was holding. "But I like her. She's scary but straightforward."
"She likes you too."
I open one eye. "How can you tell? She criticized my tea, my weight, and our wedding choices all in the span of two hours."
"Trust me. If Mildred Calloway doesn't like you, you know it." His hands move to my calves, working the muscles there. "The fact that she asked if you're happy means she cares about your answer."
"She loves you a lot." I watch his face, the way his expression softens when speaking of his aunt despite her prickly nature. "She just wants to make sure you're taken care of."
"I know." He looks down at my legs in his lap, seemingly fascinated by the task of massaging my calves. "Growing up, she was the only one who understood my need for quiet. For space. After my parents died, everyone wanted me to talk about my feelings. Process. Share. Mildred just took me fishing and didn't say a word for hours."
The glimpse into his childhood touches something deep in my chest. "She sounds like exactly what you needed."
"She was." His hands still on my legs. "Losing her is going to be hard."
I sit up, moving closer to wrap my arms around him. "I know. I'm sorry."
He pulls me against his chest, his heartbeat steady under my ear. "Having you here helps. More than I expected."
"I'm glad." I press a kiss to his jaw. "So what's the plan for tomorrow?"
"Beverly arrives in the morning. Then we start preparing for the Christmas Eve dinner and our supposed vow renewal."
"Do you think they'll buy it? The vow renewal thing?"
"Aunt Beverly will help sell it. Hell, she's the one who cooked up this whole fake marriage story in the first place. She commits to her schemes." He strokes my hair absently. "Aunt Mildred though, she's sharper. She might suspect something's not quite right, but she wouldn't call us out directly. Not if she thinks it would embarrass us."
"So we just keep playing the happy couple." I trace patterns on his chest. "That shouldn't be too hard."
"Not hard at all," he agrees, tipping my chin up for a soft kiss.
The kiss deepens quickly, his hands sliding under my sweater to find warm skin. I shift to straddle his lap, fingers tangling in his hair.
"We should stop," I murmur against his lips. "Your aunt is right down the hall."
"My ninety-two year old aunt who takes a sleeping pill and wears noise canceling headphones to bed."
I laugh softly. "Still. Maybe we should take this upstairs."
He stands in one fluid motion, lifting me with him. I wrap my legs around his waist, still amazed at how easily he carries me.
"Show off," I whisper, nipping at his ear.
"You love it." He carries me toward the stairs.
