Page 34 of My Secret Santa Daddies

The wind bites at my face as I step out of the truck, the snow swirling around us like it has a mind of its own. But even with the snow whipping against my cheeks, my attention shifts to Sierra as she climbs out of the truck, her movements stiff, reluctant.

She stands beside me, her arms wrapped around herself.

Her cheeks are flushed from the cold—or maybe from the fact that she’s here, surrounded by people she’s been trying to avoid for years. Griffin and Cody disappear into the lodge, Griffin holds Jack in his arms, sheltering him against the storm, and that leaves me and Sierra lingering in the biting wind, the only sound the crunch of snow underfoot and the low moan of the wind flitting through the pines.

I grab her duffel bag from the bed of the truck, hefting it onto my shoulder.

“This’ll be the second time I’ve saved your ass.”

“Guess I owe you twice now.”

“How about you just promise to stop being so damn stubborn.”

I glance sideways at her, catching the way she’s staring at the lodge like she’s trying to decide whether she can make a run for it. Like she’s still thinking about bolting.

She’s wrapped up tight in that oversized coat of hers, and the sight of her makes something twist low in my gut. The coat is huge, swallowing up her slender frame, the fur-lined hood frames her face and makes her eyes stand out even more—those striking blue eyes that have always been a little too sharp.

Her cheeks are flushed from the cold. She tugs the hood closer, her gloved hands fumbling with the zipper, and I feel a strange urge to reach out, to help her, and touch her, even in the smallest way.

But I don’t.

I stand there, watching her and feel like a complete dumbass.

Her breath mists in the air, a soft cloud that lingers between us, and I can’t help but think of all the times we used to stand like this, back when everything was simpler. Back when she wasn’t wrapped in layers of armor, and neither was I.

She glances up, catching me staring, and for a moment, those blue eyes pierce right through me, sharp and unyielding. But then something softens, just a little—a flicker of warmth that I haven’t seen in years.

And damn if it doesn’t make my chest ache.

I know I shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be letting her get under my skin like this again. But seeing her here, bundled up against the cold; stubborn as ever… it’s like being hit by a wave of something too strong to fight. Something I don’t even want to fight anymore.

“Are you just going to stand there and stare?” she asks, arching a brow, her voice cutting through the thick air between us.

“Maybe I like the view.”

“Jesus Christ. What is it?”

“Sierra,” I start, keeping my voice low, barely louder than the wind. “Did you really think you could weather the blizzard on your own? No power, no heat...?” I trail off, shaking my head. “You’re smarter than that.”

“What was I supposed to do, Wyatt?”

“You could’ve called me.”

“No cell service.”

“I don’t get why you thought freezing in the dark was a better option than accepting a little help.”

“I didn’taskfor help, Wyatt. I never asked you, or Griffin, or Cody to show up like you’re my knights in shining armor.”

I hold up my hands, trying to keep my voice steady, and calm. “I know you didn’t ask, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need it. What were you going to do if the power stayed out all night, huh? You know how dangerous that could have been?”

She looks away, staring out into the dark forest, the snowflakes catching in her hair, making her look almost fragile, like something that could disappear into the storm if I turned my back for even a second. But I know better. Sierra’s never been fragile—just stubborn, fiercely so.

“I had it under control,” she mutters, but there’s no conviction behind the words. “I didn’t need... this.”

I sigh, shifting her bag on my shoulder, trying to keep my own frustration in check. “You don’t have to prove anything, Sierra. Not to us, not to anyone. It’s okay to admit that sometimes you need?—”

“I don’tneedanything,” she snaps, turning on me with a glare that cuts through the darkness. But even then, I can see the cracks in her armor from the way her shoulders sag under the weight of everything she’s been carrying. “Not from you, and definitely not fromhim.”

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