Page 13 of My Secret Santa Daddies

“Same stuff, mostly. Contracting jobs, construction work here and there. Nothing too exciting. What about you?”

She pauses for a moment, her movements slowing just enough for me to notice. “Still running the bakery on Main Street,” she mutters, almost like it’s an afterthought.

“I’ll need to put in an order for some of your double chocolate cookies while we’re in town.”

That earns me a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Those are still bestsellers. People have a thing for chocolate, I guess.”

I’m about to respond, but she turns around too quickly, holding a mug of fresh coffee. Her elbow knocks against the counter, sending the mug spilling over my hand.

“Shit!” I hiss, jerking my hand back as the hot coffee scalds my skin.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” she gasps, immediately grabbing a towel from the counter. She rushes over, her hands moving quickly as she dabs at the mess on my hand, her fingers brushing against my skin.

“It’s fine, really,” I say, though the sting is still fresh.

But Sierra isn’t listening. She’s already in full damage control mode, wiping at my hand, her expression tense with apology. “No, it’s not fine. You’re burned, Wyatt. Here, let me clean it up.”

Her touch is surprisingly gentle as she wraps the towel around my hand, her brows furrowed in concentration. It’s been so long since I’ve been this close to her, and for a moment, I forget about the burn, forget about the coffee. I just focus on her—on the way her fingers brush against my skin, the way her lips part with each focused exhale.

A few uses for that mouth and her soft pink lips flash through my mind. I clench my jaw, ignoring the image of her bent over the kitchen counter that suddenly flashes through my mind.

God damn it.

“Really, Sierra. It’s no big deal.”

She glances up at me, and for a second, her eyes meet mine. There’s something there, something I haven’t seen in a long time—something that’s been buried beneath all the layers of hurt and distance.

“I didn’t mean to?—”

“It’s just coffee. You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”

She lets out a soft, almost nervous laugh, the sound so unfamiliar on her lips that it catches me off guard. She looks down at my hand again, her fingers still wrapped around the towel, and for a moment, we just stand there, too close.

Liquid heat pours into my core and I curse Cody for lingering in the other room.

“Well, we don’t want you stuck with a permanent reminder of your brief visit back to Silver Ridge, do we?” she says, her tone lighter now, as she steps away, reaching for a second mug to take to Cody.

I take a sip, realizing then, she remembered exactly how I like my coffee. She used to pick us up orders when we’d have late night study sessions back in college.

“We should go take a look at the car,” she says, her voice more composed now. “Might as well see if it’s salvageable.”

“Ready to work some magic, Cody?” I ask, smirking as we walk out the side door in the kitchen, and back into the cold.

Cody laughs, rubbing his hands together like he’s warming up for a big project. “If by magic, you mean basic mechanic skills, then yeah. I’m ready.” He glances at Sierra with a wink. “Your car’s not dead yet, I can feel it.”

Sierra looks at him, then at the snow-covered heap of metal in the driveway. “I’m not holding my breath.”

Cody squats down beside the car, his fingers brushing away the layer of snow clinging to the hood. “It’s not in bad shape, honestly,” he says after a moment, his tone a little more serious now. “Front end’s dinged up, but the frame’s solid. The axle’s not cracked, which is good news. I’d say it needs a new windshield, tires, and probably some alignment work, but it’s not as bad as it looks. This is nothing. A couple of parts, a weekend of work, and it’ll be good as new.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “That sounds… optimistic.”

“That’s Cody for you. Always ready to jump into a project with both feet.”

“And it usually works out,” Cody adds, not missing a beat.

Sierra looks from me to him, her lips curving into a small smile. “How much would you want for the work?”

Cody stands up, brushing snow off his knees. “I’d be more than happy to consider it an early Christmas gift.”

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