Piper

It’s sugar cookie decorating time.

I’m sitting in between the twins at the dinner table. Matthew is sitting across from me and not once have I made eye contact with him since leaving the bedroom.

My eyes constantly move over to Stanley, who is dropping dabs of white frosting on his Santa-shaped cookie.

“I want you all to know that I have been having such a great time so far this weekend!” Mom chimes, clasping her sugarcoated hands together.

I roll my eyes, making a thin line of pink frosting on the outside of my ornament cookie.

“It’s always fun to be here, Mom,” Stanley says, smiling at her. Oh, shut up, Stanley.

“Auntie Piper, can you help me with my sprinkles?” Jana looks up at me with a container of red sprinkles in hand. “I want to make my Santa really yummy and really pretty.”

“Sure, sweetie.” I open the lid of the sprinkles and then hand it back to her, shaking the sprinkles on top of the cookie with my hand on top of hers.

“Mr. Matthew?” Joey speaks up.

Matthew’s head whips up, eyes inquisitive. “Yeah, Joey?”

“Are you and Auntie Piper going to get married and do a honeymoon like the movies?”

The question clearly takes Matthew off guard. His eyes shift up to mine, and for a split second we hold gazes, but I purposely snatch mine away, taking the container of sprinkles from Jana and putting a little on mine when she insists.

“Joey, that’s none of your business,” Lena says, looking at him from her seat. She glances at Matthew apologetically but he simply shrugs, remaining calm.

“No, it’s okay.” Matthew laughs it off. “I do hope to accomplish that one day, Joey.”

Mom gasps. “Really?”

Dad gives him a nod of respect. “Sounds like something a real man would do.”

“That would be beautiful,” Mom sings. “And we could help with planning and organizing! Oh, it would be amazing!”

“Mom,” I groan loudly.

She looks at me. “Oh, stop it, Pipey. That is very exciting to think about. Is it not exciting for you?”

“Yeah. Sure,” I mutter. I look up at Matthew. He watches my face for several seconds before picking up his bottle of water and taking a sip.

“Are we almost done with our cookies?” Mom asks, looking around the table. She flips her wrist. “It’s around seven now and we still have to watch the Grinch and then get the kids to bed before eggnog.”

I sigh.

“I’m all done,” Bailey says, dusting her hands off.

“Me too.” Stanley pushes from the table, going for the fridge and taking out a beer.

“Grab me one too,” Dad calls after Stanley.

Mom shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “You two are going to drink yourselves to death.”

“That would be a dream come true,” Stanley snickers, handing Dad the beer. “At least we wouldn’t be alive to watch that damn movie again.”

Dad laughs with him, accepting the cold drink. “We just might need them tomorrow too, right, son?”

“Yep.” Stanley sits back down at the table. Lena and Bailey stand and start to clean it off, and I decide to help. Matthew does as I do, glancing up at me occasionally. I can feel him looking, but I don’t bother meeting his eyes.

I walk to the sink, dropping some of the plates in it. A hand touches my shoulder and when I turn, I look up, into Matthew’s honey irises. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I respond quickly. “Why?”

“You aren’t acting okay.”

“I’m fine, Matthew. Don’t worry about me.” I pat his chest, turning to rinse the plates off.

“Uh-oh!” Lena’s voice fills the kitchen, and when I look back, she’s standing behind us with a batch of undecorated cookies in a container.

“What?” I ask, one brow shooting up defensively.

“Mistletoeeee,” she sings, and then she points up to the mistletoe hanging above the sink.

Matthew and I look up quickly and then down at each other. His mouth twitches, forming into a nervous smile.

“Oh, no,” I shake my head, meeting Lena’s eyes. “I’m really not in the mood.”

“Come on now! You know the rules. You have to!” Mom encourages, stepping to Lena’s side.

I groan. “Seriously?” I mutter beneath my breath. “Why do they want to see us kiss so badly?”

Matthew chuckles, and to shut my mother and sister up, he grabs my upper arms, pulls my chest to his, and plants his lips on top of mine.

The gesture is quick and takes me by total surprise, but I can’t help melting into him. Warmth courses through me, and I moan a little because this kiss is necessary. I sort of need it. After our intense conversation in the bedroom, I’ve felt like shit—like I need to keep my distance—but this kiss is whole and sweet and…comforting.

“Aww, look at that,” Stanley says from the table, and I jerk away from Matthew. The sound of his voice grates my nerves. I almost want to cry because this whole situation is stupid.

Kissing the escort and feeling good about it?

Pretending we are something we both know we aren’t.

Stanley ruined everything. Again. It was fun playing make-believe while it lasted.

I step back, and I’m glad everyone decides to carry on with their business—Dad and Stanley heading out of the kitchen and Mom, Lena, Bailey, and the twins at the table chatting over uneaten cookies and milk.

“Piper,” Matthew murmurs, and I whip my head up. “Are you upset about what I said in the room? Is that why you’re acting like this?”

“No. Of course not! Why would I be?” I force a smile.

“Because it seems like it’s getting to you. You walked through the door earlier so happy and relaxed, but now…well…I can feel how tense you are. You aren’t having fun.” He pauses, those brown eyes running over my face. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” I whisper. “No. Everything’s fine. We never should have put our hands on each other. That’s all.”

“I don’t regret it,” he says, leaning closer, eyes locking on my mouth.

“Well, if you want me to forget about it, you have to stop doing stuff like what we just did.” I press a hand to his chest so he can’t come any closer. “Kissing me like you actually mean it.”

“You needed a pick-me-up. I thought it would lift your spirit.” He strokes my cheek, watching my eyes very briefly. And then he steps back. “Playing the part, remember?”

“Yeah…right.” I don’t know why those words make my heart thunder in my chest, and not in a good way. “Let’s just keep on playing the part.”