Page 26 of Silent Night Temptation

I allow myself a moment of quiet satisfaction, remembering the spares I keep stored here. Being prepared has always beenmy way. It serves me well in business, in life, and even in moments like these; unpredictable, but manageable, so long as you have the right tools.

I move to the shelves, fingers deftly sorting through the supplies until I find the spare fuse. With a quick glance and a small nod to myself, I return to the console. My hands work automatically, fitting the replacement in place. But then, a sound comes.

A soft crunch of snow behind me.

I hear it, but I don’t turn. My heart begins to race, quickening with every step I hear, each deliberate footfall growing louder, closer. A part of me knows who I want it to be. I hope… no, I know it’s her. Nyree. The mere possibility stills me. I stop working, frozen, not from the cold but from the anticipation that swells inside me. I listen, ears straining to catch every sound, every delicate crunch of snow that promises her approach.

The memories of last night flood my mind, her caramel skin under my fingertips, the warmth of her body, her yielding, the way she surrenders herself so fully, so completely in those moments. My heart pounds harder, each step drawing nearer, pulling me deeper into those thoughts. I imagine her slipping into the outhouse, her eyes finding mine, that familiar, tender smile curving her lips.

The door creaks open, and I finally turn, heart leaping in my chest, fully expecting to see her standing there.

But it’s not her.

The disappointment hits me like a punch, and I know it must show on my face, betraying every ounce of hope I had foolishly let myself feel. Standing in the doorway, hands casually stuffed into his pockets, is Ethan. Of course, it’s him.

“I know you said not to come, but I figured you could use some help,” he says.

The sound of his voice and the sight of him standing there, cuts through me, boiling my blood in a way only Ethan can. The fuse in my hand feels too small for the anger surging inside me. I grip it tighter, wishing for a moment it was something else, something I could break in half, something to release this seething frustration.

But instead, I hold it in. My fists tighten, but I turn back to the console, forcing myself to breathe through the rage. This is not the time. Not now.

But damn if I don’t wish it were.

As I work the fuse into place, I feel him stepping closer.

“So… I was hoping we could talk…” Ethan starts, his voice oozing with that damned false innocence. “…about Coco.”

If obnoxiousness were an art form, Ethan would be a master. He has this unique talent for twisting the knife, even when he pretends not to. Every word he speaks, every inflection, provokes me. Here he is again, bringing up Coco, as if to remind me, casually of course, that she’s with him. All while I’m trying to fix the fuse for the house he’s a guest in.

I freeze for a moment. My hands stop moving. Normally, I would turn and react. But I don't. Not this time. I grip the fuse harder, resisting the pull.

Then he speaks again.

“Hey… you’re doing it wrong.”

A sigh escapes me.Okay. Fine. I’ll bite.

“What?” I say, the word sharp as I turn to him.

“The fuse. You’re putting it in wrong. It’s supposed to go the other way.”

I can feel the anger bubbling up inside me, hot and fast. “What the hell are you talking about? I think I know how to fix a goddamn fuse.”

“Whoa… take it easy, okay? I was just making an observation.”

“No,” I snap, my voice rising despite myself. “You were being an asshole is what you were doing.”

“Marcus, there’s no point getting worked up about it,” he says, pointing at the fuse. “I’m just trying to help.”

I look closer at the spot he’s pointing at, and I see it; I have somehow fitted the fuse in the wrong way. The realization sends my anger into overdrive. This must be a crowning achievement for him, the ultimate dig. My pulse spikes. I feel my heartbeat thundering in my ears. Blood rushes to my head, making it hard to think of anything but how much I want to hit him. My fists clench at my sides, and I take a step closer, my body practically vibrating with the desire to shut him up.

But then I see them. The figures behind him are just standing off in the distance. Coco and Nyree. Their faces are drawn with concern, their eyes fixed on me, watching and waiting. I freeze again, the anger still pulsing through me, but now tangled with something else, something I can’t ignore.

I can’t do it. I won’t give them a scene, won’t make them uncomfortable just to satisfy my rage.

Without a word, I drop the spare fuse to the ground. Ethan’s gaze flicks to it.

“Since you’re in a helping mood, how about you fix it yourself,” I say, my voice tight and restrained. Then I turn, walking out before he can open his mouth to say something else, something that might push me past the point of no return.

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