Page 49 of Her Secret Santa

I’ve done a little research on the company after getting hired, and most of what’s available online is either slander about Zade’s behavior or jargon about acquisitions that I can only half-follow. I did find out that Paxton ran the company for several years after Zade’s father died before Zade took over as CEO.

“Yeah,” Zade says, smiling fondly. “He prefers just Pax. He was in a rough spot when my mom and dad found him. He has a son—Landon, you met him.” I do my best to hide my grimace as I remember the redhead who made me so uncomfortable at the office, but Zade looks like he finds the man just as distasteful. “Pax had a bad alcohol problem back then, and Landon’s mom was hooked on heroin, but it still took a serious legal battle to get him custody of Landon. My dad helped him get clean, got him into rehab, and gave him a job.”

He takes a deep breath, squeezing my hands tight. Honesty and pain dwell in his eyes, and I squeeze back, as reassuring as I can offer. The gesture seems to settle him a bit, and he smiles appreciatively before continuing.

“Dad died when I was seventeen. He was a good dad, and a good man, but he taught me to always focus on myself. It was what he had to do to survive, and I never learned any other way to live. I spent college fucking off and causing problems—partying and street racing and doing whatever I wanted. My life was easy, and I treated everything like a game. I never really paid attention to all the things that mattered to other people. The holidays were just another day to me until I saw how important they are to you.”

My heart twinges in my chest, affection warm in the back of my throat. I squeeze his hand tight, trying to find the words to show him how appreciative I am of him telling me all this. I know he’s trying to relate to me, to show me that he’s human, too, and that even if he never experienced it, he can understand how hard my life has been.

“Sorry,” he says, laughing awkwardly. “That was kind of heavy. I just—I want you to know that this is new for me, too. You’re not the only one out of your depth.”

I shoot him a warm, easy smile, nudging my shoulder against his arm as we walk. When he looks down at me, there’s a hint of pink on his cheeks. It’s a beautiful contrast with the snowflakes melting on his dark lashes, and it makes my heart flutter.

“I like doing new things with you,” I say.

“Ever been ice skating?” he asks.

A laugh bursts out of me at the unexpected change in topic, but I decide to just go with it. Today has already been one dream after another—stolen kisses in between bites of dumplings from street stalls, all the glittering lights of a perfect Manhattan Christmas season around us.

“Not since I was a kid,” I tell him.

“Good,” he says with a grin. “I’d be sad if you didn’t have to hold onto me.”

My mouth drops open when he leads me to the Wollman Rink, his driver already waiting for us with skates. Zade kneels in front of me to help me tie my laces, treating me like a princess and helping me out onto the ice while his driver stays with our bags.

We skate for what feels like hours, my legs burning with effort and the cold stinging my lungs, but I never want it to end.

Zade takes me to dinner after and orders one of everything he thinks I’ll like, feeding me bites and wiping sauce off the corner of my mouth like we’ve been doing this for years. There’s a sense of familiarity that I didn’t expect, all of the differences that seem so glaring when I look at the two of us on paper fading away into obscurity when I have his eyes on me.

It’s so easy to walk hand in hand with him through Central Park, his coat draped over my shoulders as the snow drifts lazily down. It’s even prettier out here at night, the shining lights sparkling in time with the stars overhead. It’s like something straight out of a movie. Groups of carolers sing, buckets or guitar cases in front of them to gather loose change as people pass by. Several other couples are doing the same thing we are, walking and talking and soaking in the holiday spirit.

He pulls me to a stop, turning to capture my lips in a slow and tender kiss before pulling away while keeping my cheek cradled in his palm. The glittering Christmas lights littered throughout the park reflect in the darkness of his eyes, making them look like they have stars in them, and his hair shines an inky black.

“I stopped caring about everything when I lost my dad. I lost myself along with him, and I pretended like I didn’t care. I made myself believe that I didn’t care for a long time.” Zade’s lips twitch into a sardonic grin, bittersweet memories playing behind his eyes. “And then I met you. I don’t know everything, but I know enough to know that you understand my dad’s life betterthan I ever can. You understand it, you’ve experienced it, and you’re still a better person than I’ve ever even tried to be.”

I disentangle from his hold before reaching up to cup his face in both hands. His cheeks are cold against my palms, his breath puffing out in a cloud as he sighs in relief.

“There’s no reason you can’t start trying now,” I say hopefully. I know he’s not a perfect man. I’ve read the headlines, heard the rumors. But no one is perfect. And there’s nothing in the rulebook of life that says you can’t change. “The best part about being human is that we can change. You don’t have to be the person you were five minutes ago. My mom chose drugs over me, but my grandma chose me every day. She chose kindness and compassion, and she kept choosing it. She’s the reason that I can be so happy even if life isn’t going the way I want it to. She’s my role model, and every day of my life, I wake up and choose to try to be like her. People wish for things to happen all the time. I wish for my grandma to never feel alone, even when I can’t be with her, for Allie to do what makes her happy, and for the kids at the children’s home to never worry about what their future holds. But something I’ve realized is that wishing is just as easy as choosing. You can make whatever choice you want to, Zade, but if you want to change, all you have to do is choose to.”

Zade huffs out a soft laugh, closing his eyes and tilting his face into my hands. He looks a little overwhelmed, more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen him be, and it makes me want to pull him close and hold him. I rub my thumbs over his cheekbones, feeling some of the facade of strength and cold superiority fade away with the movement.

As much as his life has been easy, he’s just as damaged, just as raw and desperate for care as anybody else.

“You’ve been so worried about making sure I get everything I want today. Isn’t it fair for you to get a Christmas wish, too?”

He laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a display of easy joy that I haven’t seen from him yet. His eyes are full of so much emotion that it’s almost hard to look at him when he answers me.

“I thought, for a really long time, that I had everything I wanted. Nothing was ever interesting for more than a few days, not until I met you. I met you, and I started wanting things I’d never thought about before. A life, a home. A family. If I got a Christmas wish, the only thing on my list would be you, Clara.”

My breath hitches in my chest, raw emotion slamming into me like a tidal wave. I blink back overwhelmed, thrilled tears even as I shake my head.

“I can’t be worth that much to you,” I say, a breathless laugh coloring my words.

Zade smiles, soft and sure, and reaches up to grasp my wrists. He holds my hands against his face as he leans down to take my lips in a kiss. It’s warm and slow, full of the same magnetism that usually has us tearing at each other’s clothes, but edged with a new tenderness, a new certainty of what this is between us.

“You are,” he says simply. “You’re worth everything to me, little one.”

We stand in silence, forehead to forehead, sharing air, sharing space. Christmas has always felt magical to me, special and bright, but this is something I could have never imagined. I didn’t even know I wanted to mean this much to someone, but my heart is bursting with joy.

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