Page 38 of My Secret Santa Daddies

“And what if I was?”

“You’d freeze before you made it to the end of the driveway. Besides, you’d miss my company.”

I shift, making room beside the fire, the blanket rustling as I gesture toward the empty space. “Come on, sit for a minute. It’s warmer down here.”

She hesitates.

“What are you worried about?”

“I’m not.”

“Then sit. You can’t avoid us forever.”

The tension in her shoulders loosen just a little, and she steps closer, the firelight catching the strands of her hair, turning them gold.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” she mutters as she lowers herself onto the floor beside me.

I stretch out on my back again, propping myself up on my elbows, close enough to feel the warmth of her presence beside me. “You don’t have to tell me twice. But you didn’t come all the way down here to call me names, did you?”

Sierra shifts beside me, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. The firelight dances across her face. She doesn’t answer right away, just stares into the flames like she’s searching for something there, some answer hidden in the embers.

“I couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d make some tea or something.”

I raise an eyebrow, letting the silence stretch out for a moment before I speak again. “And here I thought you came down here to keep me company. I’m crushed.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up.”

I grin, leaning back further, letting my head rest against the edge of the hearth. “Wouldn’t be the first time, right?”

She rolls her eyes again, but there’s a warmth in the air between us now, something less brittle than before. The fire crackles softly, casting flickering shadows across the old beams overhead, and for a second, it almost feels like old times—like the years that pulled us apart aren’t as deep as they seem.

She glances over at me, her expression guarded but curious. “Why are you on the floor anyway? Did you lose a bet with Cody or something?”

“Nah. Gave my room to you. Seemed like you could use it more.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that, Wyatt.”

“Yeah, well, I did. Besides, I like the fire. Helps me think.”

She doesn’t answer right away, just keeps watching the flames, her lips pressed into a thin line. But then she shifts closer, her shoulder brushing mine as she also settles against the edge of the hearth. The touch is light, barely there, but it’s enough to send a jolt through me, a warmth that has nothing to do with the fire.

“You always did think too much,” she whispers.

I turn my head, watching her profile in the glow of the firelight, the way her hair catches the light, and the softness in her eyes that she’s trying to keep hidden. And for a moment, I forget about the years that have passed, the hurt between us, the things we never said. For a moment, it’s just us, the crackling fire, and the snowstorm outside that feels like it could last forever.

“Maybe,” I murmur, my voice dropping low. “But I’m starting to think it’s not always a bad thing.”

Sierra glances up, her eyes meeting mine, and for a heart-stopping second, I think she might say something—dosomething—but then she looks away, her cheeks flushing.

“I should...” she begins.

“Hey.” I reach out, my fingers brushing her arm lightly before I can stop myself. “Sierra.”

She freezes, half-turning to look at me, her eyes wide and wary in the firelight. And for a moment—just a moment—I see it in her expression, the same longing I feel. The samewhat ifs?

But then it’s gone, replaced by the mask she’s worn for so long, the one that says I don’t care and nothing matters.

“It’s late,” she says, her voice cool, distant. “I should... I should probably get some sleep.”

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