Page 3 of Santa's Angel

The cold night air nips at my skin as we leave the lodge. Snowflakes drift lazily from the sky, dusting my bare shoulders and making me shiver. Grady slips off his coat, smoothly draping it over my shoulders.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my breath visible in the cold air.

He gives me that crooked smile, the one that always did things to me I couldn’t explain. “I can’t have you freezing before the night even starts,” his voice is low and teasing.

I let him guide me down a narrow, snow-covered path that winds behind the lodge. The sounds of the party fade into the background, replaced by the crunch of snow underfoot and the occasional whisper of wind through the trees.

“Where are we going?” I ask, my heart pounding with each step we take.

“You’ll see,” he says, glancing back at me with a mischievous glint. “There’s something I want to show you.”

We reach a small, private cabin tucked away at the edge of the property—warm light spills from the windows, casting a glow against the snow. Grady pulls a key from his pocket, pushing the door open and ushering me inside.

The warmth hits me immediately. A fire crackles in a glass-enclosed gas fireplace. The space is decorated in subtle shades of creams and blues. A wall of windows reveals a stunning view of the ocean. I feel like I’ve stepped into another world where the past doesn’t matter, and the only thing that exists is Grady and me - the here, the now.

“This place is stunning.” I turn to face him.

He closes the door behind us, sealing out the cold. “This is my private cabin.” He grins. “I thought we could use a little privacy.”

I should feel nervous being alone with him, but instead, a strange sense of calm settles over me. Being here with him feels almost right, and that terrifies me.

Grady steps closer, his eyes darkening as they roam over me. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about you, Carla,” he murmurs. “How many times I’ve wished I could go back and fix everything.”

His words have me shaking. I want to push him away and remind him that he walked away all those years ago. But the way he’s looking at me right now like he truly cares, makes it hard to hold on to my anger.

“Why now?” My voice trembles. “Why come back now, after all this time?”

He reaches out, brushing his fingers along my jaw, sending a shiver racing down my spine. “Because I’m done running,” he locks his eyes on mine. “I’m done pretending that I don’t want you. That I don’t need you.”

My breath quickens as he closes the distance between us, pressing his lips to mine.

The kiss is explosive, all heat and hunger, as if we’re trying to make up for all the years we lost. Grady’s hands slide into my hair, pulling me closer. I melt into him, losing myself in the taste of him, the feel of his hard body pressed against mine.

He groans into my mouth, his hands roaming down my back, pulling me flush against him. “God, Carla,” he breathes against my lips. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

One night, I remind myself, just one night.

I reach for his shirt's buttons, my fingers trembling as I work to undo them. His breath hitches as I brush my fingers overthe tattoos on his chest. He winds his arms around me, holding me tight in a possessive grip.

He takes my chin in his hand, his eyes blazing with desire. “You sure about this?” he asks, his voice hoarse. “Because once we start, I’m not sure I can stop.”

My face flushes with heat, my heart pounding so hard I’m sure he can hear it. “I’m sure,” I whisper.

He lifts me off my feet in one swift motion, carrying me to the plush rug in front of the fireplace. I nestle into the crook of his neck, breathing in his delicious scent.

He lowers me onto the rug, his body hovering over mine. His eyes trace over me, every curve, every line as if he’s memorizing me.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

I reach up, brushing my hands across the roughness of his stubble. “Then show me,” I whisper. “Show me how much you’ve missed me.”

His mouth is on mine, hot and insistent. I arch into him, craving more. His hands slide up my thighs, bunching the fabric of my dress, and I gasp as his fingers brush against my bare skin.

The heat between us is almost unbearable; every touch and kiss sends sparks through me.

Grady pulls away just long enough to strip off his shirt, and I can’t help but drink in the sight of him—the hard lines of his chest, the way his muscles ripple with every movement. He’s even more breathtaking than I remember.

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