Page 5 of Her Christmas Wish

A girl, judging by the long blond curls and pink frilly shorts and shirt. She must have called out to them, as the two stopped instantly and, as one, turned toward the child.

Expecting to see Scott falter, to step back and let his friend handle the child, Gray was shocked when Scott offered a hand to the little girl, and watched as the woman he presumed to be Iris did the same on the child’s other side.

Mouth open, Gray watched as the threesome continued toward him.

Did Iris have a child?

Tipping back another sip of beer, Gray smiled. There was one mystery solved.

Scott didn’t date women with children. And he didn’t sleep with women he didn’t date.

Still grinning, feeling lighter than he had in a while, Gray watched the trio, with the dogs darting around them. Picturing himself out on the beach, getting to know some of the many dog owners Scott had told him inhabited Ocean Breeze, Gray turned, thinking he’d change after all. Then another person appeared in the picture. Coming from what looked like a porch four cottages down. That far in the distance, he could see the building, but couldn’t tell much about the place—except that it had a small green area between it and the beach.

One of the places with a small lawn that Scott had mentioned when he’d first bought his place.

Gray didn’t pay much attention at first, when the person, in light-colored shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, approached the party. Scott had mentioned the unofficial dog owners club that fraternized regularly after work on the beach. Except that the blonde, a woman, who’d just joined, didn’t seem to have a dog.

She started walking—next to Scott—and Gray’s smile flattened. His entire being...flattened. Breathing flesh that didn’t think. Or feel.

And didn’t retreat.

He’d said he was on the porch drinking a beer. And he would be. Calm. Casual.

He’d have run into her sometime. At least from a distance.

Might as well get it over with.

He’d have liked more time, but he’d have liked a lot of things he didn’t get in life. He didn’t dwell on what he couldn’t change. He moved on. And worked damned hard to gain a lot more of what he wanted than he’d lost.

Telling himself he was fine, ready, he took an extra-long sip of beer. To solidify the reassurance. The choice to be okay.

And saw the little girl drop hands with Iris and Scott, to run to Sage, throwing her arms up.

Grabbing up the little body, Sage settled her on one hip—in a hold that could only be deemed familiar. A regular occurrence.

His heart skipped. As if caught in glue, he stood, watched as Iris and Scott stopped and turned to the woman and child. Of all things, he noted the stillness of the dogs standing with them.

Sage waved and turned. Heading back toward the cottage with grass from which she’d come.

With the child.

And he knew.

The Iris mystery wasn’t at all solved.

The child hadn’t been hers.

Sage had moved on, too.

Had gotten what she’d wanted more than a life with him.

She had a daughter.

Sage, his Sage, had become a mother, and Scott hadn’t said a word.

Gray had had no idea.

Bound in a moment he couldn’t escape, he watched her all the way to the cottage. And stared at the cheery-looking building even after Sage had taken her little girl inside.