The Fine Art of Faking It

by Lucy Score

  “We could have spent the day naked in bed,” Davis lamented beside her. They’d been spending most of their recent nights that way. And Eden was growing rather fond of their new hobby. Sex.

  He stomped his feet on Jax and Joey’s front porch, dislodging the snow from his shoes. The house was a cozy-looking log cabin with a wide porch and gabled roof. It was a quick walk from the back door to Joey’s beloved stables where Pierce Acres had launched a wildly successful breeding program thanks to Jax’s apology stallion.

  “Hold on to that thought,” Eden told him. “If we play this right, we can be back at the inn and naked by four.” She tightened her grip on the two bottles of wine Davis had thoughtfully brought for their first stop.

  “Count me in.”

  “No eating too much or drinking too much,” Eden cautioned. Sex on a full stomach was no one’s idea of fun.

  Davis’s hand found its way to the nape of her neck, and he gave her an affectionate squeeze when she rang the doorbell. “Three hours. We’ve got this,” he whispered.

  The door flung open, and two dogs raced past them into the front yard. Waffles, the scruffy mixed herding dog, was happily nipping at the heels of a small black and white pony—scratch that—Summer’s rescue Great Dane Valentina, who dashed ahead of Waffles in a game of tag.

  “Sorry about that.” Reva was Jax and Joey’s foster daughter. A high school senior, she had a serious face and quiet nature. The girl had been raising Caleb on her own after their mother skipped town before Sheriff Cardona and Jax and Joey intervened.

  She was wearing yellow and orange leggings decorated with turkeys and an oversized hoodie.

  “Someone didn’t get the dress code message,” Reva said, eyes skimming Eden’s jeans and forest green blouse.

  “Joey was serious about that?”

  “How the hell else are you supposed to eat eight hundred pounds of food if you don’t have an elastic waistband?” Joey demanded, appearing behind Reva and glaring at their apparel. “Rookie mistake.”

  Their hostess was decked out in gray sweat pants and one of Jax’s old t-shirts.

  Eden shot an apologetic look at Davis. She’d assumed Joey’s “don’t get dressed” message was a joke.

  Eden held up the wine. “We can just go home if the dress code is—”

  “Get your asses in here.” Joey wrestled the wine out of her grip and motioned for them to come inside.

  The house was full of holiday smells and the laughter of every member of the Pierce family, dogs included. There was music playing in the background that no one could hear over the din of family and fun. Reva went back to the couch where she and Evan were watching National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. Aurora and Caleb were sneaking appetizers off of the dining table and taking them upstairs to Caleb’s room. Joey had outdone herself with the spread. Eden’s pants felt tighter just looking at the plates of bruschetta and stuffed mushroom caps. Most of the action centered around the kitchen island where Jax played bartender for the adults in the family. Phoebe was sitting on a stool critiquing his martini shaking.

  “Thank God you’re here,” Eva said, appearing at Eden’s side. “Taste this!”

  She pressed a glass into Eden’s hands.

  “What is it?” she asked, sniffing the purple liquid.

  “Cranberry apple cider sangria,” Joey answered, leaning in to bite Jax’s earlobe.

  Eden turned her back on the festivities. “Why haven’t you told anyone yet?” Eden hissed.

  “We’re spilling the baby beans at the main meal when Donovan’s parents will be here,” Eva whispered. “Just a few more drinks and you won’t have to cover for me anymore!”

  Eden chugged the drink and handed Eva the empty cup.

  “The lovebirds are here,” Beckett announced. He juggled Lydia over to his hip and dropped a kiss on Eden’s cheek. He shook Davis’s hand.

  The greetings flew fast and furious with everyone talking all at once. Joey opened one of the bottles of wine and proceeded to pour half of it into Phoebe’s super-sized wine glass.

  Eden found Davis being pulled from her grasp as the Pierce men decided to congregate in Jax’s office to talk “man” things.

  Summer herded her two-year-old daughter Meadow onto the rug with the bribe of coloring books and crayons. Meadow’s brother Jonathan was laying on Mr. Snuffles, Franklin and Phoebe’s sinus-challenged pug, while Grandpa Franklin read him a story.

  “Have you guys read the new book club selection?” Summer asked over her shoulder.

  Phoebe slapped the counter with enthusiasm. “Yes! Amazing. I challenge any of you not to like it.”

  “Freaking hilarious,” Eva agreed.

  “You had your babies vaginally, didn’t you?” Phoebe asked Gia innocently.

  “Um. Why?” If Gia thought it strange that her mother-in-law was questioning her vagina, she didn’t show it. The Pierces were uncomfortably close like that, and Eden felt a little twinge of sadness that she didn’t get her own overly involved family antics today.

  Her parents had called that morning from Atlantis’s house over a noise factor much the same as the one in the Pierce house now. It made Eden feel just a bit homesick and happy that she hadn’t stayed home alone.

  “Because Pippa Grant will make you pee yourself laughing,” Phoebe announced. “I woke your father up laughing in bed over the hockey players autographing people’s foreheads.”

  “So, Eden, speaking of romantic comedy,” Gia prodded, smugly popping a pickle into her mouth. “How are things going with you and Davis?”

  The Beautification Committee was everywhere.

  “We’re great,” Eden insisted, smiling brightly and helping herself to a glass of wine. “He’s wonderful. I just feel awful for him being displaced from his home for the holidays.” She couldn’t help herself, reminding the guilty of their crimes. She shook her head sadly. “It’s so disheartening to know that someone was malicious enough to want to hurt him like that. I mean, he’s homeless for the holidays. Can you imagine?”

  Eva and Gia looked like Eden had just run over their favorite baby bunny with a lawnmower.

  “It is really unfortunate,” Phoebe agreed, sloshing the wine around in her glass. “It almost makes me question just how safe this town really is.”

  “Me, too,” Eden agreed seriously, enjoying the way the sisters squirmed. “He’s homeless, and because of this mean-spirited prankster, the insurance company won’t pay out.” She sighed. “Davis may not show it, but he’s really hurting. We’re really hoping the police find out who did it.”

  Eva’s lower lip trembled. Home run.

  Sure, maybe it was mean to poke them on a holiday built around gratitude and sharing. But because of the Beautification Committee, Davis didn’t have a home in which to celebrate Thanksgiving. Eden went in for the kill. “I just feel bad for the police.”

  “Why’s that?” Eva asked, glancing nervously in the direction of Jax’s office.

  “Well, think about it. This is a small town. Your husband, Layla, Colby, they know everyone,” Eden pointed out. “Imagine having to charge someone you know or care about with arson.”

  She shook her head, enjoying the stricken looks. “And can you imagine the trouble he could get in if it turns out to be someone he knows? He’d be accused of covering it up, collusion. His career could be sunk, too. It’s just a really ugly situation,” Eden tut-tutted.

  Satisfied that she’d reminded the Beautification Committee to add “thankful for not being in jail” to their holiday to do list, she topped off Phoebe’s wine glass and her own and went to browse the appetizer selection. She was debating whether she should be judicious with her choices or embrace the gluttony of the holiday when a pair of hands slid around her waist.

  She leaned back into Davis’s familiar body.

  “How’s it going so far?” he asked quietly, plucking a canape from her plate.

  “Not bad. They tried to pump me for info on how happy and in love we are, an
d I laid the mother of all guilt trips. By the way, you’re secretly devastated by the fire,” she whispered in his ear.

  “Got it. I’m secretly devastated, and you’re head over heels for me largely based on my performance in bed.”

  “Gossips,” Eden teased.

  40

  He’d underestimated the volume of food of a progressive Thanksgiving meal and overestimated the settling effect of the walk from Jax and Joey’s to Carter and Summer’s. They’d moved en masse from the log cabin near the barns to the pretty white farmhouse where turkey, tofurkey, and every holiday side dish known to man awaited them.

  Given the number of guests, Carter set up the tables on the first floor of the little red barn next to the house. The wood floors were swept spotless and a potbelly wood stove in the corner warmed the room to cozy.

  Eden wedged her green bean casserole onto the overladen table that was covered in a cheerful turkey-themed tablecloth. The legs buckled as if they couldn’t withstand one more addition to the feast. “I’m already full,” she confessed to Davis.

  “You? I had two beers and six of those pigs in a blanket,” Davis complained. “I thought the walk over would make some room. It just gave me more time to realize how full I am.” Eden patted him on the back, and he had to resist the urge to burp.

  Summer appeared in the doorway with two casserole dishes piled on top of each other and Meatball the beagle sniffing after her hoping for spills.

  “Good God. We’re going to die here, aren’t we?” Eden whispered to him.

  He put his arm around her, though the effort hurt his full stomach. “We’re in this together. And by my count, there are at least one-hundred dogs here that we can slip food to.”

  “You’re so sexy when you’re smart,” Eden told him.

  “Remember the plan. Naked Thanksgiving Sex,” he reminded her.

  She pressed a hand to her stomach and nodded. “Okay, we can salvage this. No more booze. Tiny portions.”

  Vegetarian Carter lugged in a gravy boat labeled “vegan.” “This is the last of it,” he announced, balancing it on top of the broccoli casserole and broccoli salad.

  Summer bit her lip and swept Jonathan up in her arms. “I think Mommy got a little bit carried away.”

  “Cake?” Jonathan asked.

  “Not ‘til later,” Aurora told her cousin with regret.

  “Well, we are feeding an army,” Carter reminded her.

  It was true. Davis surveyed the room. Couples and kids and dogs—and was that a goat peering in the window?—gathered together. His own family holidays were… quieter. More sedate. Bryson was the cook or, more accurately, the amateur chef in the family and would create artistic, gourmet “cuisine experiences” with Davis’s or Tilly’s help. They would enjoy a few bottles of wine, a tiny helping of some sculptural dessert, and call it a day.

  The Pierces made messy and complicated look… fun.

  “Here come the Cardonas,” Phoebe said, pointing at the drive as Donovan’s parents pulled up in their shiny pick-up truck.

  Davis noticed the look that passed between Donovan and Eva. Excitement, nerves, and pure joy.

  “Hey, y’all,” Hazel Cardona greeted them as she and Michael made their way inside.

  “We figured you Pierces would go completely overboard, so we brought antacids and gas pills as our contribution.” Her husband Michael held a plastic drug store bag aloft.

  A cheer went up, and Davis made mental note to get his hands on that bag.

  “Now that we’re all here,” Eva began. “Um, Donovan?”

  There was a cheerful pop of a champagne bottle. “Since we had so much to celebrate this year,” Donovan said, pouring a round of champagne into plastic cups, “we thought we should have a toast.”

  “What a lovely idea,” Phoebe sighed. Her gigantic wine glass had made the trek from Jax’s to Carter’s and had been refilled.

  The cups were distributed, and all gazes landed back on Donovan. He tucked his wife under his arm and promptly lost the power of speech.

  Noticing her husband’s predicament, Eva cleared her throat. “So. Um. We’re pregnant.”

  There was dead silence around the table. Phoebe was the first to recover and ran squealing for Eva. Eden, Davis noticed, looked decidedly unsurprised.

  “Well, this is the first I’m hearing about this,” Jax said loudly.

  Carter punched his brother in the shoulder.

  “Why don’t you look surprised that we’re going to be an aunt and uncle?” Gia demanded, poking Beckett in the arm with one hand while she wiped away happy tears with the other.

  “Who? Me?” Beckett asked.

  Donovan made a slashing motion over his throat, and then his father and mother were pulling him into a back-slapping hug.

  Franklin was taking his turn hugging his youngest daughter. “We’re going to need a bigger bunkroom,” he announced. “All of these wonderful grandbabies!”

  “Congratulations, Eva,” Carter said warmly.

  “Why aren’t you congratulating Donovan, too?” Summer asked, her eyes narrowed shrewdly at her bearded husband.

  Emma gave a very un-Emma-like squeal. “We’re going to have babies together,” she said, wrapping her sister in a tight hug. “Baby buddies. Isn’t that a wonderful surprise, Niko?”

  “The best kind of surprise,” he agreed.

  Summer pointed an accusing finger at her friend. “Nikolai Vulkov! You’re not surprised either.”

  “Mayday. Mayday,” Jax whispered to Davis.

  “Jackson Scott,” Joey’s voice rang out.

  Jax picked up Caleb and held the boy in front of him as a shield.

  “You sneaky sons of b—ears,” Joey corrected herself at the last second. “You knew!”

  Eva gasped and stared up at Donovan. “You told them?”

  Donovan was back to speechless.

  “It wasn’t his fault. We were talking about vasectomies and kids, and he didn’t tell us, but he got this…” Davis trailed off, feeling the weight of a roomful of female glares. Eden cautiously stepped in front of him.

  “He got the stupid, goofy ‘I’m going to be a daddy’ look,” Jax said, jumping in to swim with the sharks.

  “Leave it alone, man,” Beckett sang under his breath. “Don’t try to save him.”

  “I can’t believe you told everyone,” Eva said, hands on her hips.

  “We practically beat it out of him,” Davis insisted.

  Donovan shot him a look of gratitude.

  “Honey, I—” he started but stopped when Eva dabbed her eyes with a festive cartoon turkey napkin.

  “No, it’s okay. I just had hoped we could have this big surprise.”

  “Shit,” Donovan swore. “Baby, please don’t cry.”

  “I’m not crying,” she wailed.

  “It’s the hormones,” Emma told everyone, tears streaming down her own cheeks.

  “I only told Eden,” Eva sobbed.

  “You told Eden?” Donovan asked, all eyes flying to Eden.

  Davis moved to stand next to her in case the mob got out of control.

  “Huh? Oh, me?” she asked guiltily.

  “That was just because I threw up in her hat stand! I had to explain!”

  “Umbrella stand,” Eden corrected.

  “Regardless of who knew and who didn’t,” Phoebe said, standing with only the slightest wine-induced wobble. “I think we can all agree that we’ve been blessed and that a new baby is nothing but wonderful news.”

  Now, Donovan was tearing up and swallowing hard.

  “We have a whole new generation who will grow up here running wild,” Carter said, clearing his throat at the emotion that had lodged there. “What more could there be to life?”

  “Your father would be so proud of all you boys,” Franklin said, raising his glass. “You too, Donovan.”

  Beckett nodded silently, pulling Gia into his chest.

  “What the hell is wrong with everyone?” Joey demanded wip
ing her eye on the back of her sleeve. “Can we at least eat before the hysterics start?”

  Donovan swiped away Eva’s tears.

  Phoebe raised her glass and slipped her free arm into Franklin’s. “I’d like to propose a toast. To family.”

  “To family,” they echoed.

  Davis felt a little tickle at the back of his throat and noticed that Eden’s eyes were a little misty. He hip-checked her gently, and she gave him a watery smile.

  Maybe there was something to be said for a big, sloppy family holiday? Maybe there was something more than balance sheets and grapes and marketing initiatives.

  Maybe plantings and harvests were only the beginning.

  41

  The walk from the farmhouse to Phoebe and Franklin’s home was slower and punctuated by the moans of the overfed. Even the dogs and kids were moving at a snail’s pace. Meatball gave a lazy bark as Waffles trotted in slow motion in front of him.

  Meadow stopped where she was on the path and held her arms up to her Uncle Jax. “No more walking,” she insisted. Not to be outdone, Jonathan threw himself on Donovan’s mercy.

  Jax settled the toddler on his shoulders with only a small groan.

  It was getting dark. They were long past their 4 p.m. estimate. But they couldn’t very well skip out on dessert. It would be rude. And very, very smart.

  “If one more thing goes in my mouth, I’m going to throw up all of my internal organs,” Eden announced to Davis.

  He squeezed her hand, and she realized how right it felt to have his fingers twined with hers, just as their shared suffering twined together.

  Davis gave a sad shake of his head. “I’ve never eaten so much in my entire life. That’s more than I usually eat in a week. I think I’m just going to lay down in this field and wait for birds to eat me. My carcass will feed them for the entire winter,” he predicted.

  Eden laughed and then clutched her stomach. “Please, don’t make me do that again. I almost threw up.”