Festive Faking (Rust Canyon #1)

8. Mac

Chapter 8

Mac

It was easy to see that Aspen cared deeply, not only for this town but for its residents. She’d been stiff for days, but as soon as we hit Main Street, she visibly relaxed for the first time since we’d left LA. This place offered her comfort, and seeing her smile warmed something deep within my soul. I wanted to witness it again and again. More than anything, I wanted to be the cause of her happiness.

You’ve got a long way to go. She barely tolerates you at best, and only because you’re helping her in a pinch.

I was transfixed, watching her scamper off to help a young woman unsuccessfully attempting to navigate a stroller through the crowd. It spoke to the kind person she was. I’d seen it time and time again during our time together at school. She was the first to jump in when one of our classmates was stuck on a project, offering help and never expecting something in return.

Aspen was selfless, and in the world I’d grown up in, that was a non-existent quality. Maybe that’s why I was so drawn to her. She was the antithesis of everything I’d ever known. Her innate goodness called to me like a beacon in the dark guiding me home.

I could have stared at her all night, but a cleared throat to my right had me remembering the task I’d promised Aspen I would complete, and a quick peek had me realizing a line had formed behind me.

Turning back to Rose, I offered her a smile. “Sorry about that.”

The middle-aged woman’s brown eyes sparkled as she waved me off. “I’ll hear none of that. Warms my heart to see Aspen with a young man so smitten he can’t tear his eyes away.”

A rush of heat warmed my cheeks. “That obvious, huh?”

“Only to those of us who have known an all-consuming love. We know what signs to watch out for.” Rose winked.

Love might be a bit of a stretch, but I couldn’t deny Aspen occupied every available space in my brain.

“About those ornaments.” I steered the conversation back to more neutral territory.

Rose made her way behind the makeshift stand, pulling a ceramic horse figurine from beneath a hidden shelf and placing it on the tabletop. Since I didn’t have a reserved ornament, I chose a simple red and green striped peppermint candy one from the remaining selection.

“How much do I owe you?” I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet.

“Whatever you’re able,” she replied.

I froze, a stack of bills in my hand. “There’s no set price?”

Rose shook her head. “We run on donations. No child or family should feel like less at the holidays because of their financial status, so everyone gets to hang an ornament regardless of their ability to contribute.”

Well, color me impressed. This place took community to a new level.

“Tell me, Rose. What do the donations go toward?”

“The church runs a program to ensure all our youth have gifts under the tree on Christmas morning.” Her chest puffed up with pride. “When folks are down on their luck, they don’t have to worry about their little ones losing faith in the magic of the holidays and their belief in Santa Claus.”

The idea of a child questioning Santa because their parents couldn’t afford toys? It was like a punch to the gut.

Thumbing through the cash I held, I did a quick count. “How many kids are you serving this year?”

“Ten across four families.”

I handed over a stack of hundreds, and her eyes grew large before she held up both hands in protest. “Oh, no. That’s too much.”

Shaking my head, I countered, “It’s not enough. Do you have somewhere I can donate electronically?”

Rose’s mouth dropped open. “You want to give more ?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I don’t know what to say.” She placed a hand to her chest.

“Just promise me those kids are going to have the most incredible Christmas of their lives.”

She nodded in a daze, her eyes growing glassy. “I can promise you that.”

We exchanged information, and I stashed my and Aspen’s ornaments in the coat I’d borrowed from Tripp before bidding Rose a pleasant evening and a happy holiday.

My next stop was a drink stand offering warm beverages. The brisk evening had seeped through the denim encasing my legs, so I was eager for the warmth a bit of alcohol would provide.

With two drinks clasped in my gloved hands, I went in search of Aspen.

Six hundred souls seemed like such a small number, but crowded together in a tight space, it felt like so much more. You could barely hear the music coming from the band on stage with how voices layered over one another, people shouting out greetings across the street to those they were excited to see.

I weaved through the tight spaces between bodies, keeping an eagle eye out for a flash of red.

There.

Murmuring, “Excuse me,” to those standing between us, I worked my way closer to where Aspen stood conversing with two men.

A hot flash of jealousy burned through me when I saw her head tip back as laughter fell freely from her lips. She was so at ease in their company that I wondered if either one had a history with her. I didn’t like how that made me feel. Like I was on the outside looking in, knowing I might never get more than this week of pretending with her.

So much for shooting your shot. You sound like you’ve already given up at the first sign of potential competition.

Once I reached the group, I offered the steaming mug to Aspen. “Hope mulled wine is okay.”

She ducked her head in gratitude, taking a sip.

One of the men blew out a breath. “Aspen, who is this tall drink of water, and where did you find him?”

The other man smacked his arm. “I’m standing right here, ya know.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t pretend like you weren’t looking too.” He tossed me a wink with heat in his eyes. “Rules are we can look but not touch.”

“Um . . .” I peeked at my redheaded “date,” hoping she would offer an explanation.

The most adorable snort flew from her nose, and her hand rose to cover it. “Sorry. Mac, meet Henry and his husband, Luke.” She gestured to each one as she introduced them.

Definitely misread that situation. They weren’t a threat or competition.

Extending my hand, I shook both of theirs. “Macallan Blaze.”

Recognition lit up in Henry’s blue gaze. “Wait.” He turned to Aspen. “Are you kidding me?”

She shrugged. “What?”

“Oh no, girl. Don’t play coy with me. I can see right through you.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” She buried her face in her drink.

“What’s the deal?” Luke asked.

Henry huffed out a disbelieving laugh. “Our sweet Aspen is dating one of the most eligible bachelors in the country. Scratch that, the planet.”

When Aspen’s family hadn’t recognized my surname, I was sure I’d be able to fly under the radar this week. Guess I was wrong. Apparently, it was impossible to outrun my legacy.

Luke eyed me with interest. “Seriously?”

Aspen’s discomfort was palpable, and it twisted my gut that common knowledge of my family’s wealth was the cause. I knew better than most that money didn’t solve all the world’s problems, and it sure as shit couldn’t buy happiness or love. My life would have been a hell of a lot different if it could.

Shrugging, I opted to downplay the notoriety that came with being born a Blaze. “I put my pants on one leg at a time, same as anyone else.”

Henry snickered. “Yeah, but your pants probably cost as much as our rent.”

I hated that he was probably right. Instantly, I made a mental note to double my donation to the church for the children. It was nothing more than a bandage slapped over the guilt associated with my privilege, but what more could I do short of renouncing my family name and my stake in the business?

Changing the subject seemed like the only option, so that’s what I did. Gesturing between the two men and Aspen, I asked, “How do you all know each other?”

Luke rocked back on his heels. “You’re hard-pressed not to know someone in this town, but we go way back with Aspen. I dated her for a few years in high school, and Henry here”—he hitched a thumb toward his husband—“took her to prom.”

My eyes widened as the redhead at my side dropped her gaze to the ground.

Damn, guess she wasn’t exaggerating when she mentioned that Mike wasn’t the first of her exes to bat for the other team.

“You’ve got a good one there, Mac,” Henry said.

“You won’t find a better one,” Luke agreed.

Taking a risk, I grasped her hand and squeezed it gently. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”

The lights on Main Street dimmed, and someone announced that the tree lighting would commence in five minutes.

“That’s our cue.” I nodded to the men as I began to guide Aspen closer to the massive evergreen. “Nice meeting you.”

They murmured their goodbyes to our backs as we moved deeper into the crowd.

Everyone seemed to be shuffling in the same direction, and I’d have laid odds that it mimicked the guided movements of a cattle herd. Eventually, we could go no further. A wall of people stood before us, awaiting the event of the evening, all eyes trained on the tree.

I curled my arm around Aspen, and a countdown rang out from the stage.

“This is my favorite part,” she confessed, her voice barely audible.

My lips drew closer to her ear. “Oh yeah?”

She gave a slight nod. “The anticipation right before the lights twinkle. If you close your eyes, you can almost feel the excitement.”

Her blue eyes slid closed, and she tilted her face toward the sky, a soft smile gracing her lips. Unguarded and relaxed, she’d never looked more beautiful. I wanted to capture this moment and remember it forever.

In unison, those gathered began counting down the final seconds. “Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . .”

Aspen’s lashes fluttered open just in the nick of time. “One!”

You’d have thought we were in a cheesy holiday movie the way the lights lit from the bottom to the top of the tree, culminating in the shining star glowing at the highest point.

Everyone let out a cheer, and Aspen breathed out, “Now, it’s Christmas.”