Page 22 of Silent Night Temptation

“So,” I say, my tone teasing but with a hint of something more, “are you happy you came here for Christmas?”

She pauses, her glass hovering near her lips. After a small sip, she sets it down. There’s something almost childlike in the way she nods, her sincerity clear, no hesitation in her answer. “Yes.”

That single word carries more weight than she likely realizes. For a moment, the world narrows to just the two of us. The kitchen is bathed in warm light, and there’s an easy comfort we’ve found together.

The moment stretches between us, warm and unhurried, but then I notice a shift in Nyree’s expression. Her brow furrows slightly, and though her body remains still, there’s a tension in the air around her. It’s subtle at first, like the slightest tremor of a distant storm cloud. But it draws me in, compelling me to ask.

“Are you okay?” I ask gently, sensing something beneath the surface.

She hesitates, her fingers fidgeting with the stem of her wine glass. And when she finally speaks, her voice is quieter, more restrained. “Yeah… it’s just… you’re Coco’s dad.”

Her words hang between us, stark and real. I nod, letting the truth of what she’s said sink into me, while also feeling the weight of her unspoken worry. I can see the concern etched on her face now, her earlier calm replaced by something more fragile, more anxious.

“When she gets here…” she continues, her voice faltering slightly, “she’s going to know something’s going on. What would we even tell her? What would I tell her?” Her hands move restlessly in her lap, tapping out an uneven rhythm. Her eyes flicker between mine and the floor, her features tightening as that familiar nervousness begins to surface.

I can see it. Her mind racing ahead and struggling to grasp at answers that feel out of reach. Her voice rises, carrying with it the uncertainty that has clearly been building within her. “What even is there to say? That I had sex with her dad? That I… I don’t know what this is?”

She lets out a shaky breath, her hand drifting to her neck, where she scratches absently, a gesture I’ve come to recognize as her way of soothing the unease that starts to creep in. It’s like watching her build a wall between us, brick by brick, out of fear.

“Hey… hey…” I murmur, stepping closer, my voice low but firm. I reach for her hands, feeling the slight tremor running through them, and it strikes me how vulnerable she is in this moment. “Nyree… look at me.”

Her eyes, hesitant at first, rise to meet mine. There’s a tremble in the depths of them, a vulnerability she’s trying to mask but can’t quite hide. I hold her hands tighter, willing her to feel the steadiness I’m offering.

“This… what we have,” I begin, my voice quiet but filled with a raw sincerity that surprises even me, “is not just some passingthing. Not for me. I don’t know what this is… This crazy, intense feeling that I can’t deny is there. And whatever it is, I want more of it. More of you. I want this, Nyree. And I’ll be here with you to figure it out.”

I pause, letting the truth of my words settle between us, their weight as real and grounding as the floor beneath our feet. My heart is pounding in my chest, but there’s no doubt in what I’m saying, no confusion clouding my thoughts. All I know is that I want her in my life, and I’m willing to navigate the uncertainty, the complexity, because I believe in whatever this is between us.

Her breath hitches slightly, her features softening as the tension starts to slip away. The trembling in her hands begins to ease, the anxious energy dissipating. She nods, slowly at first, as if letting my words settle deep within her. I watch as the storm in her eyes starts to clear. There’s something about the way she looks at me now. Meek, yes, but not out of weakness. It’s a quiet kind of surrender, a willingness to trust me, to trust us, despite the doubts that once clouded her mind.

I feel a pull, something deeper than just the physical attraction that has simmered between us all this time. Slowly, I lean in, closing the space between us. When our lips meet, it’s not in a rush of passion or desire. No, this kiss is different. It’s softer, slower, an unspoken promise. It’s not filled with the urgency of lust, but with something far more profound. I feel my care for her in every second that passes, my protectiveness in the way I cradle her face. My heart warms in the way I kiss her.

Her lips part, welcoming the tenderness, and we linger in the kiss. The world outside the kitchen fades into the background. There’s a weight to the moment. Not heavy, but significant, as though we’re both acknowledging something neither of us can fully articulate yet. When we finally pull back, I rest my forehead against hers, breathing her in, letting the silence between us speak the words we’re not quite ready to say out loud.

Whatever this is, it’s real. And I know, deep down, that I want nothing more than to see where it leads.

The hours slip by like water through my fingers, and in that peaceful flow, something takes root within me. A calmness settles between Nyree and me, so natural and unforced that I can’t help but imagine more moments like this; waking up to her warmth and sharing these quiet times every day. It feels right, as if this, this quiet companionship, this tender ease, was meant to be.

I hear the unmistakable sound of a car approaching. My pulse quickens, a spark of excitement surging through me as I know it must be Coco. I look over at Nyree, catching the fleeting look of nervousness crossing her face. She knows it too. I place my hand over hers, letting my fingers brush gently against her skin and offering her the reassurance she needs. When she smiles back, there's a quiet satisfaction in knowing that I’ve calmed her, that I can be that source of steadiness for her.

We make our way to the front door, my heart thudding faster with every step. I’m always thrilled to see my daughter, but this time feels different, layered with a complexity I can’t quite put into words. Nyree’s presence, the uncertainty of what comes next, all heightens my anticipation, sending a rush of adrenaline through me.

As I pull open the door, the brisk evening air rushes in, and we step outside just as another black SUV rolls into the driveway. My excitement swells as I recognize the car, one of Coco’s usual rides. A wide smile spreads across my face. But then, something in the scene feels off. I notice a figure in the driver’s seat. Unfamiliar at first, but as he steps out of the car, my blood runs cold.

Ethan.Ethan fucking Carter.

The name burns in my mind, and the smile I wore only moments ago vanishes in an instant. Hot and sharp anger surges through me like a tidal wave.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” The words are out before I can stop them, my voice trembling with barely contained rage.

Ethan steps out with that smugness I’ve always despised. His hands are casually tucked in his pockets, as if this were some casual, friendly visit. “Now, now… that’s no way to talk to a guest,” he says, his voice dripping with that infuriating arrogance that’s always made my skin crawl.

Before I can react, Coco steps out of the passenger seat, walking toward me with a tentative smile. “Hi, Dad…” she starts, but the anger bubbling beneath my skin boils over.

“What is he doing here, Coco?” I snap, my voice harsher than I intended.

She sighs, clearly frustrated, her eyes rolling like I’m the one being unreasonable. “Dad, Ethan and I are dating. He’s my boyfriend,” she says, her tone as matter-of-fact as if she’s telling me the sky is blue.

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I feel the world tilt slightly beneath me. “Your boyfriend?”

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