Festive Faking (Rust Canyon #1)

10. Mac

Chapter 10

Mac

Well, that was an eventful evening.

I’d always known Aspen was feisty, but I’d never seen her fly off the handle like that before. She had been out for blood, and part of me felt bad for the poor sucker on the receiving end of her rage. He looked like a kicked puppy, guilt written across his face, as she’d hurtled shocking accusations at him.

I wasn’t kidding about redirecting her anger. I half expected her to slap me across the face for kissing her. When she didn’t, it was the sweetest reward. The memory of her moans, as I’d pinned her to that wall, had my cock harder than the floor beneath me as sleep alluded me in the darkness of the cabin.

Fuck, my level of obsession had gotten to the point where even her breathing, audible from bed less than three feet away, was enough to turn me on.

Gripping my shaft against the ache, I bit back a groan.

Don’t be a creep. If she wakes up and catches you jerking off, it’s game over.

My hand fell to the side, and I prepared for this to be the longest night of my life.

Time ticked by at a snail’s pace as I tossed and turned. Just as I contemplated digging through my bag for a sleeping pill I’d lifted from my stepmom, a whisper-soft voice said, “I lived in this cabin until I was three.”

I stopped breathing. Was Aspen talking in her sleep?

Keeping my voice low in case she was, I replied, “Yeah?”

Sheets rustled from above. “My dad took a risk buying this land. He poured every penny he had into it, borrowing from the banks to purchase the horses. This was the only structure, so it’s where we made our home until Daddy and Mr. Atkins, Penny’s dad, built the big house with their own hands.”

He might be gruff and eye me with suspicion for dating his only daughter, but Jett Sullivan had my respect. All business owners did. It took grit to strike out on your own, to leave behind the safety net that came with a nine-to-five gig. I wasn’t sure I would have the guts to do it.

“I used to have a little cot where you’re lying now and a basket of toys in the corner. It was cramped, especially once Tripp came along, but some of my fondest family memories come from within these four walls.”

I longed for the closeness the Sullivans shared and Aspen clearly cherished. I wanted to bottle it, keeping it close to my heart to remind myself that something better existed on those days when I felt isolated and alone.

The craving for a true family grew more intense the longer I spent with this one.

Maybe if I tried hard enough, I could recreate it on my own.

As much as I wished that Aspen could be the one to help me in that endeavor, I knew it would take more than a few kisses for her to see that there was so much more to me than my family name. She’d offered comfort yesterday when I dropped the walls surrounding my heart and spoke about my mother for the first time in decades.

Under the cover of night, she’d found the courage to be vulnerable.

What if the key to becoming something more was by following her lead?

Taking a leap of faith, I confessed, “I let people believe that I’m an entitled playboy who’s spent most of his adult life partying his way around the globe because it’s easier than admitting I’ve been dragging my feet, delaying the inevitability of becoming another corporate robot like my father and sister.”

The steady cadence of Aspen’s breathing halted.

Tossing an arm over my eyes, I cursed myself for laying it all on the line. Her family poured their literal blood, sweat, and tears into their business, getting their hands dirty day after day. Mine sat behind computer screens, running numbers and delegating tasks from their shiny skyscraper. It wasn’t nearly the same.

Most would deem it ungrateful to spurn the opportunity sitting right before me, but the walls were closing in, threatening to crush me, and I wanted out.

Fingers brushed my bicep, and I jolted.

Swallowing, I dared to uncover my face, only to find Aspen leaning over the edge of the bed, her concerned expression staring down at me.

“Is it really that bad?”

I gave a slight nod of confirmation. “It’s not the life I want for myself.”

She rested her chin on her forearm. “If you could do anything in the world, what would you choose?”

That was an easy answer. “Firefighter.”

Even in the dark, I could see her shock. “Really? You want to run into burning buildings?”

Tucking one arm behind my head, I replied, “I like the idea of helping people. It’s dangerous, sure, but I’d rather do something with purpose than sit in an office. I like designing, but it was a path I chose because the idea of running numbers and barking orders turns my stomach.”

She let out a soft huff. “For someone who only ‘likes’ designing, you sure are good at it.”

“Not as good as you,” I countered.

Scoffing, she shot back, “You don’t mean that.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“No, but—”

“You’re talented, no question about it. Not only that, you’re passionate about architecture. I’ve seen the way your eyes light up when an idea strikes and you can’t wait even a single second before you’re sketching an outline. With all the design software at our fingertips, you never miss an opportunity to freehand. It’s impressive.” I paused. “Aspen, you are impressive.”

Her lips parted as she gaped at me.

I couldn’t take back my words, nor did I want to. I promised myself I was going to let my feelings for her become known this week. So, tonight, when an opportunity presented itself, I took it.

What happened next was up to her.

When her face slid from view, my heart sank.

“Night, Mac.”

I heard the tiniest sniffle. Fuck.

This was a disaster. Why did I have to go and open my big mouth?

“Night, Aspen.”

Regret hung heavy in the air, but I turned over and asked a higher power to please let us make it through at least one day without incident.

Our track record to this point wasn’t great, so I clung to that prayer like a lifeline.

For the second day in a row, Aspen was gone when I woke. Both times, it felt like my fault.

After showering and dressing, I made the trek to the main house, the same as yesterday. When I let myself inside, the mouth-watering aroma filtering from the kitchen had me hastening my steps. My stomach rumbled in anticipation, but I stopped short when I found only Jett and Tripp sitting at the table.

The last time she’d run off before the sun, Aspen had at least made it to breakfast. Even if she hadn’t been particularly chatty, she was present.

The full weight of my fuck-up slammed down on me, making it hard to breathe.

I rubbed over my sternum, hoping to loosen the vise grip around my lungs, while both men stared at me like I’d grown a second head.

Peeking around nervously, I cleared my throat. “Aspen around?”

Jett wasn’t in the mood to share his daughter’s whereabouts, likely suspicious as to why I didn’t already know. His sharp, blue gaze remained locked on me even as he resumed eating.

Tripp, on the other hand, dipped his chin, answering my question. “Went into town with our mom.”

“Oh.” I gripped the back of my neck. “Any chance I could borrow a car to head that way myself?”

With no idea how long Aspen might be gone, I wasn’t too keen on sitting around all day. Even if I didn’t manage to bump into her at some point, I could stretch my legs and check out the shops.

“Sure.” Tripp reached into his pocket and withdrew a set of keys. “Take mine.”

I snatched them out of the air when he tossed them in my direction. “Thanks. I owe you.”

Halfway down the porch steps, Tripp’s voice halted me. “Hey, Mac!”

“Yeah?” I looked over my shoulder.

“They’re gift-wrapping at the church. Likely be there ’til around lunchtime.”

“Thanks.”

Hustling to the truck, I sat there for a minute, letting the cabin warm up.

I wasn’t about to crash Aspen’s day, but I’d be damned if I let her hide from me. If she was going to reject me flat out, she owed me the courtesy of doing it to my face so I could eliminate any possibility of a relationship with her from my mind and move on.

Avoiding an awkward breakfast with the Sullivan men meant my first stop was the cozy little coffee shop on Main Street.

Deciding to people-watch for a while, I ordered a large coffee—with unlimited refills—and a croissant.

The teen behind the register read out my total, and before I could pull out my wallet, a voice said from behind, “It’s on me.”

Recognition tickled at the back of my brain, and I turned to find the man from last night—the one Aspen had screamed at, with the whole town as witness.

“No, thanks. I’ve got it.” I offered him a tight smile.

“Please.” He ran a hand through his sandy-brown hair. “It’s the least I can do for ruining your night.”

I could only imagine the hell that would rain down if it ever got back to Aspen that I was consorting with the enemy, but a part of me felt bad for the guy. The tortured look in his eyes was one I knew all too well.

“Okay,” I agreed, stepping aside so he could place his own order and pay for both.

Turning back to me when the staff began making our drinks, he extended his hand. “Tucker Grant.”

It had been drilled into me that, in business, to refuse a handshake was the ultimate insult. The slight probably wasn’t any less egregious in a small town.

So, that’s how I found myself accepting his gesture and offering my name. “Mac Blaze.”

A woman popped her head up from behind the bakery case. “Doc, do you mind moving your conversation to a table? We’ve got a line.”

Tucker let out a laugh, but it sounded hollow, and the smile he flashed the woman didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You got it, Rita. Sorry ’bout that.”

He motioned to an empty two-seater by the window. “Shall we?”

It was one thing to let the man buy my breakfast in apology, quite another to sit with him while I enjoyed it. The hole was getting deeper by the minute.

My back was against the wall, but I couldn’t find a way out, so I nodded. “Sure.”

“Listen, about last night . . .” Tucker began the moment I sank onto the chair opposite him.

I held up a hand. “Really not my business, man.”

Shoulders slumping, he hung his head. “Aspen has every right to hate me.”

Crap. One simple sentence was enough to earn this man my sympathy.

Aspen might’ve never come at me so violently as she did Tucker last night, but she’d never made an effort to hide her dislike for me. Our entire program knew she couldn’t stand me.

Still, a shift was happening between us; I could feel it. Even if I couldn’t be sure whether it was this place that was changing our dynamic, the forced proximity, or the fact that we were interacting outside of an academic setting where we focused only on our work.

Now, if only she’d stop running off every time we shared a moment.

Our coffee and pastries arrived, and I took a long pull from my mug. Tucker simply sat there, staring at the table, not making a move toward his breakfast.

I couldn’t stand the silence a minute longer. “Aspen cares deeply about those in her life.” I was pulling on observation since I didn’t have experience receiving that kind of affection from the woman myself.

“Bex and Aspen were always inseparable, joined at the hip since kindergarten. You’d think they were twins with how they can feel each other’s pain.”

The pieces began to fall into place. “You hurt Bex.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, twisting his hands. “She’s the love of my life, and I fucked up. Big time.”

Aspen’s words from last night came rushing back. “But you’re married.”

Tucker shook his head. “Been divorced a few years. Pulling the plug on the biggest mistake of my life wasn’t enough to erase the damage it caused.” He sighed. “Bex hasn’t set foot in this town since she was eighteen. She couldn’t get away fast enough when she learned what I’d done, and judging from Aspen’s reaction last night, she won’t be too keen on hearing any explanation I have to offer.”

His sad blue eyes spoke to something deep within my soul.

I never thought Aspen would give me the time of day. Hell, I still wasn’t sure if our conversation last night had been a dream or not. But if there was the tiniest chance of us being together, becoming one of those people she threw down for, I wasn’t going to give up.

And I didn’t think Tucker should either.

“If she won’t come here, you ever think of going to her?”

A wry laugh sounded. “You think anyone will tell me where she is? After Aspen’s reaction last night, I’m sure Bex’s would be worse.”

Damn. I’d gathered that this community was tight, but there had still been a lurking suspicion that it was just for show. Learning that the entire town was willing to gatekeep a young woman’s whereabouts from the man who’d hurt her as a teen spoke volumes to the depth of their loyalty to one another.

“Sorry, man.” There wasn’t much else to say.

Tucker stood, leaving his cooling coffee and muffin untouched. “Hope you enjoy your visit.” With that, he turned and pushed through the glass door, the chime above it jingling to signal his departure.

His regret still hung heavy in the air, threatening to suffocate me.

I refused to look back on this time I was gifted with Aspen wishing I’d done more to make my position known. This was my one chance, and I was more determined than ever to make the most of it.