My Secret Santa Daddies (Silver Ridge Christmas)

16. Sierra

16

SIERRA

I lie still for a moment, feeling the warmth of the blankets around me, trying to make sense of the whirlwind that’s become my life.

Wyatt.

Last night, the way had he looked at me, spoken to me—it was more real than anything I’ve felt in a long time.

I still want you.

I close my eyes remembering his words, trying to sort through the mess of emotions; the confusion, the longing, the guilt. Everything feels twisted together.

I sigh, sitting up in bed, rubbing my hands over my face.

I hear the creak of the bedroom door opening. I turn, expecting Cody or maybe even Jack, but it’s not. It’s Griffin.

He stands in the doorway, broad shoulders filling the space, his dark eyes locked on me with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. His hair is tousled from sleep, his jaw shadowed with morning stubble. There’s a heaviness in his gaze that’s impossible to ignore.

“Griffin,” I say, my voice coming out hoarse, barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t move, just stands there, studying me like he’s trying to figure out what to say. Or maybe what not to say.

I can’t breathe. I can’t think.

Finally, he takes a slow step into the room. He sits on the edge of the bed, not directly looking at me.

“There’s power back at your house.” His voice is rough, almost hesitant, like he’s unsure of how I’ll react. “The roads have been cleared enough to drive as well. You can… you can head home now.”

The words hit me harder than I expected. I should be relieved—I should want to leave. But there’s an ache in my chest, an emptiness I can’t shake.

“That’s good.”

“Sierra, I—” He stops, closing his eyes for a second, like he’s trying to find the right words. When he speaks again, his voice is softer. “I never wanted it to be like this. You have to know that.”

“Like what?” I ask, knowing full well he’s referring to our night together and the simmering tension between us.

“I mean…” He hesitates, his frustration evident. “I mean the way things ended between us. The way I… handled things back then and now. I was young and stupid, Sierra, and I thought I was doing what was best for everyone, especially Anna.”

His voice cracks at her name, and I feel a stab of guilt at the mention of my best friend—the woman he loved and lost, the one I never got to say goodbye to properly.

“Griffin,” I start, but he cuts me off.

“No, let me finish. I need you to understand, I was trying to protect what we had, what was left of it, even if that meant pushing you away. I know it was wrong, but at the time, it was the only thing that made sense.”

“So, you were protecting me by breaking my heart?” I ask in confusion.

He winces at my tone, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I know it doesn’t make sense now. It probably never did. I just?—”

“Felt guilty,” I finish for him. “You felt guilty about everything with Anna, and you thought staying away from me would somehow make it better.”

“Yeah. I guess I did.”

“You know,” I say slowly, my voice trembling, “there were times when I thought I’d never see you again. And maybe that would’ve been easier. But now that I’m here, I realize I never really let go. No matter how much I tried to pretend otherwise.”

“Sierra—”

“I know you have Jack,” I interrupt, my voice cracking. “And I know you’re trying to be a good father, to give him a life without the mess of the past. I don’t know where I fit into that anymore, or if I ever did.”

“I never wanted to shut you out. Not really. I was just… scared.”

“Scared of what?” I demand, my frustration boiling over. “Scared of feeling something? Scared of what it would mean if you let yourself want me again?”

“Yes, dammit. Scared of all of it. I was scared of losing more, of failing again. Of losing you again!”

Griffin stands abruptly, pacing away from the bed, his hands raking through his hair. "You have no idea how much I've thought about you over the years, Sierra. How many times I've picked up the phone, wanting to call you, to explain, to apologize. But I didn't know how. I didn't know if you'd even want to hear from me."

I swallow hard, my heart pounding in my chest. "I would have listened, Griffin. Even if it hurt, even if I was angry, I would have listened."

"I'm sorry. God, Sierra, I'm so sorry for everything. For the way I handled things, for not being there when you needed me most. I thought I was doing the right thing, but turns out I was just running away from my own pain."

Tears sting my eyes, and I blink them back furiously. "I needed you, Griffin. I needed you, and you just... left. Like I didn't even matter."

In two long strides, he's back at the bed, kneeling in front of me, his hands grasping mine. "You mattered. You always mattered.”

I inhale sharply.

“Griffin. This is a lot.”

His hands grasp mine tighter, his eyes searching my face with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe. "I know it's a lot. I know I'm throwing this at you out of nowhere. But I need you to understand - I never stopped caring about you, Sierra. Never."

I swallow hard, my throat tight with emotion. "Then why did it feel like you did? Why did you shut me out?"

He closes his eyes briefly, pain etched on his features. "Because I was a coward. Losing Anna nearly destroyed me, and I thought... I thought if I let myself feel anything for you, if I let you in again, I wouldn't survive losing you too."

A tear slips down my cheek and I roughly brush it away. "I lost her too, Griffin. She was my best friend. You weren't the only one grieving."

"I know. God, I know that." He reaches up, cupping my face in his large hands. "I was so wrapped up in my own pain, and guilt, that I didn't see how much you were hurting. I should have been there for you. I should have..."

His voice cracks and he leans back.

“And the other night… I want to pretend like I had no idea what came over me, but let’s face the fucking fact. I knew as soon as I saw you, that I wanted to kiss you again. Feel you beneath me. Hear you say my name.”

“I just… I don’t know what to think, Griffin.”

“I know,” he says, his voice low. “And I know it’s not just me. I’m not blind, Sierra. I see how Cody looks at you. I see the way Wyatt hovers around you, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear again.” He lets out a rough sigh, nodding as if he understands. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything more. I just needed to be honest with you, finally.

“Come on,” he says gently, his hand hovering near my arm. “I’ll walk you downstairs.”

“I need to pack up my stuff first.”

“Right.”

I stand in the living room, awkwardly fidgeting with the zipper on my jacket while Griffin, Cody, and Wyatt linger nearby.

“You don’t have to rush out if you’re not ready. The storm might be over, but it’s still pretty cold out there,” Wyatt says, eyeing me up and down.

“I think it’s best if I head back now. I’ve already overstayed my welcome.”

I feel hollow, standing there awkwardly, afraid to let myself feel anything after Griffin’s confession.

“You could never do that,” Wyatt cuts in, his voice firm, his eyes holding mine for a beat longer than comfortable.

“Sierra, no!” Jack comes barreling into the room, his face flushed with distress. He’s clutching one of his toys—a worn-out stuffed bear he’s named Buddy. “You can’t leave yet!”

I drop to one knee, opening my arms for Jack as he collides into me, wrapping his small arms around my neck. His hug is fierce, desperate, and it makes my chest ache.

“Jack,” I say softly, smoothing his hair back. “I’ll still be in Silver Ridge. I promise I’ll come see you soon, okay?”

“But I don’t want you to go! I want you to stay here… with us.”

“Jack, buddy,” Cody steps in, his voice gentle, “Sierra has her own house, she needs to go check on it, but she’ll be back to visit.”

“That’s right, Jack. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“Pinky swear?” Jack asks, his small face still crumpled with sadness.

I hold up my pinky, linking it with his. “Pinky swear.”

“Okay… but you better mean it.”

I pull him into another hug, my heart breaking a little more with each second. “I do, Jack. I really do.”

Wyatt clears his throat, looking over at Griffin. “Why don’t we help Sierra load her things.”

“It’s not much. I got it,” I say, standing up.

“Sierra, come on,” Cody says, shaking his head as he slips my bag out of my hand and into his. His eyes search mine, a mix of concern and something deeper. “If you need anything—anything at all—you know where to find us.”

I give him a small, sad smile. “I know. Thank you, Cody. You guys have already gone above and beyond.”

Wyatt comes back, carrying the last of my things. “Ready to go?” he asks, his voice soft.

I nod, my chest tightening at the thought of walking out that door. “Ready.”

But as I turn to leave, Jack’s voice rings out again. “Wait!”

I stop, turning back to see him holding out Buddy. “Take him,” he says, his lower lip trembling. “So you won’t be lonely.”

“Thank you, Jack. I’ll take good care of Buddy, I promise.”

I step out of the lodge, fighting away the tears that want to spill out. I climb into my car, the door slamming shut with a heavy finality.

Griffin leans into the window, his eyes full of something I can’t quite read.

“Take care of yourself, Sierra,” he says quietly.

I manage a quick nod, my voice barely steady. “You too.”

The engine roars to life, and as I pull away from the lodge, I glance back one last time.

Cody, Griffin, and Wyatt grouped together in the doorway, watching me go. Jack standing at the edge of the porch stairs, looking so small and defeated that I can’t bear to look at him anymore.

I take a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel tightly, and drive away.

The house is exactly as I had left it; cold, dark, and empty. The front door creaks as I push it open.

I flick the light switch, shrug out of my coat and let it fall to the floor, not caring about the mess.

I slowly walk into the living room, feeling the cold hardwood beneath my feet, my breath still visible in the chilly air. I set my things and Buddy down on the coffee table.

It’s too quiet.

The realization slams into me as I stand there, staring at the empty room. I’ve gotten used to the hum of activity at the lodge, the sound of Jack’s laughter, the steady rhythm of the three men moving around me, even when we weren’t speaking. It was messy, chaotic, filled with unresolved tension—but it was also alive.

Here, it just felt like… nothing.

I fuss with the thermostat for a moment and the furnace knocks several times before firing up.

I glance over at Buddy, lying on the coffee table where I set it down when I first came in. He looks as out of place here as I do. I pick him up, hugging him to my chest, feeling the rough texture of the worn fur against my skin.

“Guess it’s just you and me now.”

I tilt my head back.

The thought hits me suddenly; the Secret Santa reveal is next week!

I can practically see it in my mind—the twinkling lights, the excited buzz, Betty Thompson’s booming voice announcing names and gifts.

And me, standing there with a forced smile, pretending like everything is fine, when it’s anything but fine.

No. I can’t do it.

The decision settles in my chest, heavy but clear. I’m not going. I’m not putting myself through that, not when everything feels so raw and tangled. I don’t want to see Griffin’s guarded expression, Wyatt’s searching eyes, or Cody’s steady gaze that seems to see right through me.

I just can’t do it.

I look at Buddy, his worn eyes staring back at me like he’s silently urging me to reconsider, and not give up so easily. But I set him down gently on the table, shaking my head.

“No, Buddy,” I murmur, my voice soft but firm. “Not this time.”

I make up my mind right then and there, I’m not going to the Secret Santa. I’m not going to pretend everything’s okay when it wasn’t.