Page 4 of My Secret Santa Daddies

Wyatt pulls up in front of my house, the same old place my parents got before I was born. They sold it to me before they headed to the city for retirement. It's a small, two-story bungalow that could use a fresh coat of paint with loose shingles littered across the front lawn. Christmas lights are strewn haphazardly across the eaves, my clumsy attempt at making the place look less depressing.

Wyatt pulls the truck to a stop, the engine still running as we sit there.

I grip the door handle, eager to escape the awkward silence. “Thanks for the ride,” I mutter, already pushing the door open, a blast of cold air hits my face.

“Sierra—”

I pause, turning back to face him. His expression softens, the usual gruffness in his voice replaced by something gentler, almost tender. “Just… be careful, alright?”

I force a smile, though it doesn’t reach my eyes. “I always am.”

He watches me for a moment, his eyes searching mine like he’s trying to find something I’m not willing to give. I can feel the weight of the past pressing down on both of us, unspoken words hanging in the air. But I can’t deal with that now, not when the memories are still so close, so raw.

Without another word, I step out into the snow, the truck door closing with a muted thud behind me. Wyatt doesn’t pull away immediately, but I don’t turn to look back. I just trudge through the snow toward the house, the cold biting at my skin, my heart racing for reasons I can’t explain.

I barely make it to the porch and he’s already disconnected the chain and left my car there on the driveway. I don’t wait, kicking my boots off at my entrance, the sound of the engine fading into the distance. I stand there for a moment, staring out the window at the empty road, wondering how everything suddenly got so complicated.

Griffin. Cody. Wyatt. They’re all back.

And no matter how hard I try to avoid them, I know it will only be a matter of time before our paths cross again.

2

GRIFFIN

The road to Silver Ridge winds through the mountains, blanketed by snow that seems to fall heavier with every mile. The cabin of the SUV is warm, but the chill from the past few years lingers in the silence. I glance in the rearview mirror at Jack, his small body bundled up in a puffy winter jacket, his wide eyes staring out the window, captivated by the snowstorm.

“Daddy, is that where we’re going?” Jack asks, his voice soft but filled with excitement. He points ahead toward the shadowy outline of the mountains that loom in the distance, barely visible through the snowfall.

“Yeah, buddy, we’re almost there.”

He smiles back at me, then goes back to gazing out the window. I know he’s excited about the trip. He’s never been to Silver Ridge, and this will be my first time back since Anna died. The lodge I bought is supposed to be a fresh start, a place where Jack can make new memories, somewhere that doesn’t remind me of everything I’ve lost.

But even as I drive, my stomach tightens with every mile. Silver Ridge isn’t just a place; it’s a part of my past I’ve avoided for years. A part of my life I’ve been trying to outrun.

In the passenger seat, Cody stirs, shifting his gaze from his phone to the road. “Looks like we’ll hit Silver Ridge right before dinner.”

“Yeah. Just in time.”

“You doing alright? Haven’t said much since we left the city.”

I shrug, keeping my eyes on the road. “Tired, I guess. I was hoping all the work stuff would die down since they all know I’m on vacation.”

“Hand me your phone. I’ll throw it out the window.”

Cody’s been one of my best friends since college, but even he doesn’t fully understand what it feels like to come back here. To this place and the memories I’ve been avoiding for years.

Part of me wants to turn around and forget this whole thing was ever a good idea. But I owe it to Jack, and I know that if I want to move on—if I ever want to find some semblance of peace—I'll have to face my demons head-on.

But first, we had to make it through the holidays...

Jack shifts in the backseat, humming softly to himself.

The kid’s been through enough already, he doesn’t need to know how much this trip is eating away at me.

“How’s Jack handling it?” Cody asks softly.

I glance in the rearview again. Jack is still staring out the window, lost in his own little world. “He’s excited. Thinks it’s some kind of holiday adventure.”

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