Page 9 of My Secret Santa Daddies

I put the bag of supplies into the truck before slamming the tailgate shut. “It’s none of his business.”

Wyatt sighs, running a hand over his head. “I know. I know. But?—”

“What?” I ask, watching as Cody pulls up dinner options on his cell phone.

“Nothing. Just…People are going to want to know if you are doing okay. This used to be your home, Griff, and they’re trying to be kind.” He pauses, glancing back at the store before meeting my gaze.

“It’s not their damn business though. Just bored, old people with nothing to do but gossip.”

Cody shakes his head.

“No, you’re wrong, Griffin. Silver Ridge has a way of dredging up the past.”

I roll my eyes. “The only thing I’m concerned about right now is getting that generator working and putting some food in my stomach. All we need to worry about is the present, and right now, that’s getting this place in order. They can talk all they want.”

3

SIERRA

“…So, are you going to see your parents for the holidays?” Susan asks, raising an eyebrow as she stirs her tea, her eyes watching me closely like she’s already anticipating the answer. The early morning light filters through the kitchen window, catching the rising steam from her mug.

I roll my eyes, leaning back in my chair. “Nope. They’re off on some fancy cruise. Left me behind like a kid who can’t be trusted to handle herself. Guess I wasn’t on the guest list.”

Susan chuckles, setting her cup down. “Wait, seriously? They didn’t even ask if you wanted to come?”

“No. They said, something along the lines of ‘Oh, sweetie, you probably wouldn’t enjoy it anyway. It’s more of a retirement crowd.”

Susan shakes her head, laughing softly. “Classic. Leave you in the snow while they sip cocktails in the sun.”

“Exactly. Guess someone has to look out for the house… and, you know, survive a snowstorm alone.”

“Sounds like your parents.” She leans back, her smile fading a little. “Did you tell them you wrecked your car in the storm.”

I wince, the reminder of my recent disaster still fresh. “No. Not yet.”

“What happened?”

“Hit a patch of ice on the turn. It got buried in a snowbank and now it doesn’t run. Since I’m not exactly rolling in cash, I guess I’m stuck for a bit.”

Susan’s eyes soften as she takes in my words. “I’m sorry, Sierra. That sucks.”

“I’ll manage. I always do.”

Susan tilts her head slightly, her gaze piercing through the forced casualness of my tone. “That’s your go to line, isn’t it?I’ll manage.’”

“Well, yeah. What else am I supposed to say?”

“How about ‘I need help’ or ‘I could use a break,’ for starters?” Her tone is gentle, but the concern is clear. “You’ve been carrying a lot on your shoulders for a long time now, Sierra.”

I sigh, staring down at my mug, tracing the edge of the handle with my fingertip. “It’s not like I’ve had much choice. It’s just… been a lot, you know? After Anna died, after everything with Griffin—” I stop myself, the words catching in my throat.

Susan nods, giving me space to continue. “You don’t talk about them much anymore.”

Griffin and I… we were never supposed to be serious. Just two people caught up in the whirlwind of youth, acting on impulse and adrenaline. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t anything permanent. At least, that’s what I had told myself.

It started at a party, one of those loud, chaotic nights where everything was a blur of music and laughter, with the world spinning so fast you forgot where you were. Griffin had this way about him back then—charming, easygoing, with a smile that made you feel like you were the only person in the room. I wasn’t immune to it. No one was.

I can vividly remember the moment we kissed. It was late, the party was winding down, and we were sitting on the steps outside, away from the noise. I’d had a few drinks, not enough to forget, but enough to feel bold. We were talking, and laughing about something stupid, when he leaned in, and suddenly it wasn’t just about the conversation anymore. I could feel the tension, the pull, and before I knew it, his lips were on mine.

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