Page 77 of My Secret Santa Daddies

Griffin waves a gloved hand and waves. “Ho, ho, ho!” he calls, trying to deepen his voice.

Jack watches in rapt silence, his little hands pressed against the glass. “Santa!” he calls again, his voice full of hope.

Griffin stops, turning back to the window one last time. He puts a finger to his lips, signaling Jack to stay quiet. Jack nods eagerly, his excitement barely contained.

Then, with a final wave, Griffin vanishes into the snowy darkness, the red of his suit disappearing like a mirage in the night.

Jack sinks back onto his pillows, his eyes wide with disbelief and joy. “Did you see that?”

“I saw, sweetheart.”

Jack beams, his exhaustion catching up to him as he nestles back under the covers. “I can’t believe it. He’s really real…”

“Yes, he is,” I whisper, my voice barely audible as I tuck him back into bed. “Just remember no presents unless you fall asleep.”

“Right. I remember.”

I tuck Buddy under his arm.

“You and Buddy both. Goodnight, my darling.”

“Goodnight!”

He closes his eyes, his breathing slowing again as sleep starts to overtake him. I linger for a moment, watching his peaceful face before stepping out of the room.

“I love you,” he whispers.

I turn and give him a slow smile.

“I love you more, kiddo.”

I close the door behind me, leaning against it with a quiet sigh. Griffin is standing just down the hall, his Santa hat askew, snow still clinging to his shoulders.

“You pulled that off better than I expected,” I say, crossing my arms.

He grins, his eyes twinkling in that familiar, irresistible way. “Told you I could be Santa. Didn’t think I’d get caught, though.”

I laugh softly, shaking my head. “Well, you made his night.”

“His night?” Griffin murmurs, stepping closer. “What about yours?”

My heart stutters. “It’s pretty close to perfect.”

Griffin’s smile softens, and he reaches out, brushing a snowflake from my hair. “Merry Christmas, Sierra.”

We head downstairs to where the fire is roaring. Griffin and Cody are sitting on the couch.

“Oh, shit. He actually did it,” Wyatt chuckles. “Santa’s real!”

“Hey. Don’t mock me or else you’ll end up on the naughty list.”

“Me? Never.”

They all share a good-natured laugh as I join them, settling into Griffin’s arms.

“So, what now, Santa?” I ask softly. “Are we all getting lumps of coal in our stockings?”

Griffin leans in, his breath hot on my neck. "We'll see about that," he says with a smirk. I feel the heat of his body against mine, and my heart starts to race. His fingers trace soft patterns on my bare arm, sending shivers down my spine.

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