5. Aspen

Chapter 5

Aspen

We broke off into pairs inside the kitchen—Mama with Meemaw, Tripp with his best friend, Penny, and me with Mac. Having an extra person left Dad free to ride out to the pastures to check on the herd. While Jett Sullivan loved his family with his whole heart, he was happiest when he was on horseback.

The room was full of laughter and cheer as excitement surrounding the upcoming holiday bubbled over.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Mac as we worked on rolling out the dough thin enough to layer it for our assigned pinwheel cookies. He caught me a few times, offering a smile in return, but I quickly averted my eyes, heat flooding my cheeks.

The story he told about his mom had stuck with me. He’d put on a brave face for Meemaw, but I could tell a sadness lurked beneath that charming facade.

What if I’d been wrong about him all along? Sure, his family had money, and while that brought with it a certain type of physical comfort, it didn’t protect you from the harsh realities of life.

I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to grow up without my mom. Even now, the idea of losing her made it hard to breathe. She was the first one I wanted to call whenever anything happened in my life—minus the Mike breakup, of course. Not having her love and support readily available would be devastating. I wasn’t sure how anyone recovered after the loss of a parent.

That’s why I hadn’t thought twice about offering Mac my hand. My strong sense of empathy was both a blessing and a curse. I could physically feel his pain, and I grew desperate to make it better for him. Didn’t mean I wasn’t shocked as hell when he accepted my gesture of comfort, his warm fingers curling around mine. Or when our eyes locked and I found I couldn’t look away, even as he continued speaking to my grandmother. And I was just the tiniest bit sad that my mom broke us out of that trance when she burst into the room and reminded us why we were gathered in the main house for the day.

Ugh, what was wrong with me? This was Mac we were talking about. Hearing he had a slightly less-than-perfect origin story shouldn’t be enough to have me rethinking my view of him. He was still the guy who pushed my buttons for sport, whose cockiness preceded him into any room.

But he was also the guy who didn’t hesitate to help me when he found me alone in a library, spiraling because I’d been dumped a week before I was set to take my boyfriend home for the holidays.

“You about done with the green?”

“What?” I asked in a daze, too lost in thought to process his question.

“The green, Aspen. Is it thin enough for me to place the red dough on top?”

Brought back to reality, I took a quick step back from the countertop, catching my heel on a chair I’d forgotten was placed nearby.

Almost as if in slow motion, I realized I was falling. Flour flew as my arms flailed, trying to gain purchase on anything that might save me from hitting the hardwood floor in a way that would end up with a trip to the ER an hour away.

“Whoa, easy there.”

The air was forced from my lungs as arms wrapped around my torso, and the sensation of freefalling abruptly halted. Stunned, I blinked up at the chocolate-brown eyes staring down at me. My mouth moved, but no sound came out. There was a buzzing in my ears as everything around us faded away, and all I could focus on was Mac.

His touch was gentle as he cradled me in his arms, our bodies flush from knees to chest.

Why did my skin feel too tight all of a sudden? Why was my throat closing up? And dear God, why was there a throbbing between my thighs?

“Aspen?” His gaze searched mine. “Are you okay?”

Swallowing thickly, I managed to nod. “Uh-huh.”

Gently, he eased us upright, keeping his hold locked around my waist. Even through the fabric of my sweater, I could feel the heat from his palm searing into my back.

“Oldest trick in the book.” Meemaw’s voice, across the kitchen, was filled with humor. “Pretend to trip so your man can feel you up in front of your family. Used to pull that one with Milton all the time before we were married.”

Without skipping a beat, Mac called back, “You caught us.”

My mother playfully scolded Meemaw before saying, “Oh, to be young again.”

I buried my flaming face in Mac’s chest, which vibrated with his deep chuckle.

“Not funny,” I mumbled.

His hot breath kissed the shell of my ear. “I beg to differ. My family isn’t nearly as much fun.”

My brain tickled with something he’d said to me in the library the day we put the wheels into motion on this holiday hoax.

“The step-monster will be self-medicating the entire time because my father is married to his job. My older sister is a chip off the old block, trying desperately to show that she doesn’t need a penis to head up the company, so she’ll be right alongside him at the office while the rest of their employees have the day off.”

He’d dropped breadcrumbs that his family life was less than ideal, but I had been too caught up in myself to pick them up.

Peeking up at him shyly, I whispered, “Thank you.”

This close, I had a nice view of how plush his lips were when a corner of them tipped up.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t catch you when you fall?”

My chest tightened, and I shoved at his shoulders weakly until he released me from his hold. Gripping both sides of the countertop, I dropped my head, wishing more than anything that this was all a bad dream. When it sank in that this was real life and I was too tangled up in this farce to back out now, I excused myself to use the restroom.

I needed space. Because being exposed to Maccallan Blaze for an extended period of time was fucking with my head.

Pushing into the first-floor powder room, I locked the door behind me. Turning the faucet on the sink, I let the cool water run over my fingers before bringing them to my face. Palms pressed to my cheeks, I sighed on contact, my overheated skin in desperate need of relief.

My eyes flicked up to view my appearance in the mirror, and I sucked in a sharp breath. I was beet-red, my freckles invisible beneath the deep blush that had taken over my face.

“Oh God.” I let out a deep groan. There was no way Mac hadn’t noticed how deeply affected I was by his mostly innocent touch. The man was merely saving me from cracking a bone on the unyielding floor, and here I was, acting like a preteen girl whose first crush had caught her staring in the hallway.

I spoke to my reflection. “Get it together, Aspen. Everyone is going to see right through this act if you can’t chill the fuck out.”

Closing my eyes, I tried to take a deep breath, willing what felt like the weight of an elephant settled atop my chest to ease. When I only managed a few shallow intakes of air, I stomped my foot in frustration.

What I wouldn’t give to sneak out the back door, hop onto my horse, Snowflake, and ride like the devil was chasing me. To feel the cold bite of winter wind whipping against my face, my hair flying wild behind me as I let the world fade away. Out there, my mind was always clearer, and that’s what I needed right now—a minute to figure out how I was going to survive this week of lying to my family.

My stomach churned as I pictured their disappointment if they ever learned the truth. We were so close that secrets didn’t exist between us. But I was just so goddamn tired of their looks of pity when I picked a guy who couldn’t be less interested in me, time after time.

A knock sounded on the door. “Aspen? Everything okay in there, sweetheart?”

“Fine.” My voice came out weak and unconvincing.

“Honey, you don’t need to be embarrassed about being affectionate with your boyfriend. To be honest, it’s nice to see a man staring at my baby girl like she’s hung the moon.”

What?

I flung the door open. “He does?”

My mama’s warm blue eyes softened as she tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Is it really that surprising? You’re a smart, beautiful girl with a kind heart. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

Here I was, struggling like hell to pretend as if Mac and I were madly in love and feeling like I was failing miserably, yet my family—at least my mom—were already convinced it was true.

Mama sighed wistfully. “The way he held you in the kitchen? Took me back to when your daddy and I first fell in love. Those early days are full of excitement, and you are so wrapped up in each other that the world could be burning down around you and you wouldn’t notice. You should enjoy it because that feeling doesn’t last forever.”

I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”

“Love changes and matures as you do. It becomes deeper, a part of your soul. Intimacy is less about tearing each other’s clothes off and more about closeness and connection.”

Longing stirred within my chest. I might never get to experience the type of long-lasting love my parents shared, and if by some miracle I did, it wouldn’t be with Mac, no matter what my mother imagined she saw between us.

She clasped my hands. “Ready to go back in?”

Silently, I nodded, letting her lead me toward the kitchen.

Everyone was hard at work, too focused on their baking to comment on my abrupt departure.

Everyone except Mac.

He leaned against the countertop, his deep brown eyes filled with something I couldn’t place. If I hadn’t known any better, I might’ve labeled it as concern, but that couldn’t be right. Mac didn’t care about me, didn’t worry about me. He was here to do me a favor. Though I still wasn’t sure what he got out of it other than not spending the holidays alone.

Mama gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before nudging me toward him.

Chewing my lower lip, I stepped closer, dropping my eyes to the floor as my cheeks instantly heated again.

“Hey.” Fingers gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. His brow furrowed as he searched my eyes. “You okay?”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I let out a shaky breath. “Just needed a minute.”

Mac’s heavy sigh was audible. “Aspen . . .”

I took a step back, and his hand fell away. “It’s fine. Seriously.”

Moving past him, I focused on my abandoned dough, only to discover that while I’d taken my breather, Mac had layered the red and green sheets we were working on when I left, in addition to making an undyed sheet and stacking it as well.

Surprised, I whipped around to face him. “You finished?”

“Not quite,” he countered. “Left the rolling and sprinkle privileges to you. Figured I owed you at least that much after I ran you off.”

Guilt burned through my veins that I hadn’t been exactly nice to the guy who offered to help me out when I’d found my back against the wall.

Ducking my head, I gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

Mac gestured an arm toward where the stacked dough lay. “Care to do the honors?”

Gathering up some flour and brushing it onto my hands so they wouldn’t stick to the fresh dough, I lifted the edge, carefully rolling it until it resembled a long log.

When I placed it on a baking sheet and turned toward the fridge, Mac halted me. “Wait, you forgot the sprinkles.”

Resuming my trek across the kitchen, I tossed over my shoulder, “It’s gotta chill first.”

You’d have thought I told him Santa wasn’t real with the way his face fell. “Oh.”

Setting the metal sheet on a shelf, I closed the fridge with my hip. “How about this: I make it up to you by letting you lick the spoon clean?”

His eyes lit up, and he bounced on his toes. “Really?”

I couldn’t help but smile at his over-the-top reaction to such a simple gesture. When he let the cocky facade fall away, I almost kinda liked him.

Holding the spoon up between us, I offered it to him. For a second, he hesitated but finally eased it from my grasp. Time slowed down when he licked up the length of the curved wood, his tongue flicking up at the end.

Oh my.

I might not have much personal experience with sex, but I’d sure read my fair share of romance novels. My favorite author, D.D. Morgan, could write the hottest spicy scenes, and damn if she didn’t always make sure her heroes loved to go down on their girls.

The mental picture of Mac using that curled tongue between my thighs? Holy hell, it had my core clenching.

Down, girl. You don’t even like him, remember?

Maybe not, but if that cocky attitude translates to the bedroom? It has to be hot as hell between the sheets.

He must’ve caught me staring because he swiped at his face with the back of his hand. “Did I make a mess?”

My swallow was involuntary as, now, I imagined that same mouth shiny, coated in my arousal after he’d feasted on me like I was his last meal.

“No. You’re good.” My voice came out husky and hoarse.

Mac raised an eyebrow in question.

Thankfully, there was a high-pitched squeal across the kitchen, and I spun around in time to find Tripp with one arm banded around Penny’s waist as he lifted her off the ground, reaching toward the hand she held high above her head.

“It’s mine!” Penny declared between giggles.

“But it’s the last one!” Tripp huffed as he tried to pry her fist open.

“Then go to the store and get more. I’m not sharing!” She tossed whatever she had clutched into her mouth and chewed with the biggest grin on her face, her green eyes bright.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that,” my brother teased.

Penny didn’t waste a single second running from the room, and before long, a door slammed once, then again when Tripp bolted after her.

Mac chuckled. “So, are they an item?”

Meemaw huffed. “From your lips to God’s ears, young man.”

When I turned to face him, the wooden spoon had been cleaned of every single trace of dough, and I took it from him, tossing it into the sink.

“They’ve been tiptoeing around it for years.” I let out a laugh. “Their whole lives, really. Everyone can see they’re practically in love with each other, but neither one of them is brave enough to make the first move.”

Meemaw hummed. “If that boy doesn’t get his head screwed on straight soon, some other guy is gonna swoop in and steal her right out from under his nose. Then, he’ll be sorry.”

I could have sworn I heard Mac mutter under his breath, “Maybe I should just tell her how I feel.”

Who was he secretly pining after?