Page 11 of Noel Secrets

Jayda bent to hug the twins, her heart tugging in directions she didn’t expect. Their tiny hands, their fierce affection—it reminded her of herself at their age. Of clinging to her motherbefore the hospital machines and chemotherapy stole her away. Of clinging to foster siblings who came and went, their faces fading like shadows.

She brushed a hand over one twin’s hair. “I’d love for you to walk with me.”

“Can I sleep in your cabin?” Timmy, the more daring of the two, piped up.

Jayda’s eyes flicked instinctively to Michael. He sat back in his chair, brows raised, watching the scene like a silent judge.

Her throat tightened. She turned back to Timmy and forced a grin. “Sure,” she said softly. “That would be fun. If it’s okay with Ginny.”

The twins cheered and wrapped her in another crushing hug. But when she looked up at Simon, his stiff expression caused her concern. Had he been serious about alone time with her? She had thought he was joking. Timmy and Tyler were children. How silly and immature of the man to be upset about the boys joining them.

Jayda stood. “I really don’t need an escort to my cabin.”

Simon flashed a smile, all irritation gone. Perhaps she had been wrong? “I wouldn’t miss it. Shall we, everyone?”

Aunt Caroline handed Simon his keycards, and he scooped up Timmy and put him on his hip. The image felt off, this classily dressed man with a child in his arms.

But somehow it worked, and now Jayda saw a different side of the handsome man.

Perhaps Simon Blair was father material.

Not that Jayda was looking to get married and have children. Her career would always come first. She had no time to entertain the possibility of a relationship—or of being a wife and mother.

“If you insist,” she said, reaching for her backpack on the back of her chair.

“After you.” Simon gestured.

They made it to the sliding door before she realized Michael had taken Tyler into his arms and was following them.

Michael trailed them, the picture of casual disinterest—or so he told himself—but his eyes had locked on Simon’s hand which had lingered too long on Jayda’s arm back in the dining car. Simon always had that kind of charm, the kind that slid off his tongue like honey and fooled half the girls he met. Smooth, polished, effortless. A politician in the making, if he ever wanted to run for office.

And now he was using it on Jayda.

Michael’s jaw tightened. He didn’t know why it bothered him. Jayda Simone was nothing but trouble—had been since she was fourteen and strutted into his house with that mix of defiance and mischief. She had a way of stirring things up without even trying. She’d grown up to be the same type of woman—dangerous.

Simon leaned closer as they walked down the narrow corridor of the train, whispering something that made Jayda’s lips curve. Not quite a laugh but close enough to heat Michael’s blood.

“Jayda! Wait for us!” Tyler shouted from Michael’s arms.

Jayda looked back, but her gaze met Michael’s, silently asking why he was with them. He wanted to tell her he was there for her protection, but that she would never receive well. She needed it, regardless of what she believed. She was dangerous, but Simon was trouble.

When Jayda stopped at room 18, he realized she was next to his 19. He hadn’t been expecting his mother to put them so close. He held his tongue about announcing the find.

“Will you look at that?” Simon said. “We’re neighbors. Room 17. If I get scared, maybe I’ll knock.”

Michael snorted. The man had nerve. Michael opened his mouth to intervene, but Jayda glanced back at him, almost as if she was daring him to say anything. But why? He wasn’t her keeper. He wasn’t anything to her. But he didn’t like the way Simon hovered so close to her, eyes glinting with a cocky smile.

“Sure,” Jayda said lightly, giving Timothy’s cheek a playful squeeze then taking him from Simon. “We’ll help you if you get scared, won’t we, Timmy and Tyler?”

Simon chuckled, leaning against the wall like he owned the train. “Not really what I had in mind.”

That did it. Michael stepped forward, sliding in beside Jayda and putting Tyler down beside his brother. Michael’s shoulder brushed Jayda’s. “Take the hint, Simon. That was a don’t bother knocking.”

Jayda’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me? You don’t speak for me, Michael.”

Michael stammered, realizing what he had just done, as if it was any of his business. “I just mean you don’t know who else is on this train, and…and if you’re opening your door to anyone who knocks, it could be dangerous.” His voice was sharper than he had intended, but he wasn’t backing down. Not with Simon watching, smirk widening. The con man was setting his sights onJaydaof all people.

Not that Michael should care at all, which he didn’t. But he’d seen enough crime in his job to recognize a disaster brewing.