Festive Faking (Rust Canyon #1)

by Siena Trap

For all the first-born daughters who feel the pressure to be perfect and will do just about anything to avoid disappointing their families. Should we all be so lucky to have that lead to shacking up with a hot, playful billionaire.

I didn’t need him to point out the obvious—that I had enough issues to sink a battleship.

Buckle up, buddy. You’re riding shotgun on this game of festive faking.

“Hey, Snowcap.” “Hey, Clumsy.” Our parents had given us somewhat unique names, and we’d leaned into them over the years, coming up with nicknames relative to their meanings. Snowcap for me because Aspen was a ski-resort town, and Clumsy for him because what else did you call someone who constantly tripped?

Mac chuckled. “So, are they an item?” Meemaw huffed. “From your lips to God’s ears, young man.”

“Food to your liking, Mac?” The glasses rattled when he dropped both forearms to the high-top table. His tone grew conspiratorial. “Tell it to me straight. The secret ingredient. It’s crack, isn’t it?”

The day Aspen was born . . .” Jett let out a heavy exhale. “It was almost as if I took my first breath right alongside her. Everything was different from that moment on. I was forever changed.” The man was pouring his heart out to me, but I found myself chuckling. “Guess that’s her superpower. Changing a man’s entire life by bursting into it.”

My status as an outsider was obvious from my appearance. I was the only man here lacking what appeared to be the country boy starter pack: cowboy hat, flannel shirt tucked into jeans held up with a belt featuring a big buckle, and cowboy boots.

“Truth,” I declared. But before she could ask me a question, I confessed, “I’ve only been here for four days, and this town has become a part of my soul.”

“That’s not how the game works. You don’t—” “Truth,” I cut her off. “You think I’m teasing you about your freckles, but I fucking love them.” She sucked in a sharp breath, but I kept going. “I love how you never cover them up. I’m desperate to count every single one as I memorize your body, inch by inch.”

We needed to get out of here. Right. Fucking. Now.

Black spots danced in my vision the longer I was deprived of oxygen, and I feared I might pass out. The last thought I had was: Not a bad way to die.

“Crazy thing about these stars. They put on a show like this every night.”