Page 18 of Fake It for Christmas

I browsed the goods in front of me.

“Wait. This can’t be what I think it is,” I said under my breath, holding a certain ceramic object up for Mariel.

“That… looks like a bumblebee butt plug,” she said.

I snorted, glancing up to see if any of the other farmer’s market customers at the stall had noticed.

“It looks exactly like a bumblebee butt plug,” I said.

“Good morning!” the lady behind the stall said to us as she walked up, wearing a wide-brimmed sun hat. “Are you interested in some of our wine cork stoppers?”

“I am definitely in need of a wine cork stopper,” I said, holding up the bumblebee object with the long, cylindrical prong sticking out of it. “I keep having nothing to, ah, shove in there.”

I heard Mariel hiding a snort of laughter, but it didn’t seem like the ceramics lady behind the stall had picked up on anything we were joking about.

“The bumblebee design is one of my favorites,” the lady said, “but you have to see this one, too. It’s our latest holiday design.”

She brought out a wine cork stopper in the shape of a Christmas tree, and now Mariel and I were both trying not to laugh. Another prospective customer came up to the booth, and when the sun hat lady walked off, I held up the Christmas tree one.

“All I can picture is someone shoving this nice, pretty ceramic Christmas tree straight up their—”

“Shh,” Mariel said, giving me a little shove. “You’re awful.”

“We’re both awful. Come on. Let’s go look at the hot sauce booth. I ran out of chipotle sauce last week.”

I was pretty sure I’d successfully avoided Rowen. I kept looking for a glimpse of his tufts of dark hair, but I didn’t see him as Mariel and I ambled down the long rows of stands at the farmer’s market, making our way through shoppers and families in their coats and scarves. It was almost time for the Besten’s Farmers Market to close up shop for winter, and there were only a few more weeks left of farmer’s market weekends.

That meant it was alreadyhigh timefor all of the shops to be selling their holiday goods. The whole market grounds were decked out in Christmas garlands, and people were scooping up all the gifts they wanted to have ready ahead of time.

“There you are,” I heard my mom’s voice from behind me. “Shane, I wanted to ask which of these hot sauces were your favorite. I’m going to get a few for Martha and Jim this year.”

Our family converged in front of the hot sauce booth. After browsing the different bottles for a couple of minutes, I looked up and made eye contact with a pair of warm brown eyes all over again.

Fuckme, he was hot.

He was right across the way, standing at a booth selling hot cocoa mix, and when he saw me again, he waved and immediately started walking over.

My heart pounded. For some reason, all I could think about was when we’d kissed just a few days ago, and goodGod, the last thing I needed was to feel turned on right now—

“Just a sec,” I told my family, putting down the hot sauce bottles I was holding.

I walked toward Rowen and instantly he did what I’d been afraid of: he wrapped his arms around me in a hug.

The hug wasn’t the problem. I loved the feeling of his arms around me.

The issue was that Iknewmy family.

And I knew every single one of them was standing behind me now, wondering who the hell this new guy was. And after what I’d told them this morning, I knew what they’d be thinking.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Rowen said.

“I come here with my family most weeks,” I said. “What are you, uh, up to?”

I scratched the back of my neck, practically feeling my family’s inquisitive eyes burning into the back of my head.

“Grabbing some gifts for my grandparents,” Rowen said, showing me a necklace and some small artwork pieces he had in a bag. “It’s good to see you.”

It felt damn good being near him, no matter how awkward I currently felt. He was wearing a black long-sleeve that hugged the curves of his body, and my eyes were drawn to how his dark denim showed off his ass.

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