Page 27 of Noel Secrets

Suddenly, Michael jumped in and replied, “Sorry, Mom, we actually ate while we were out. We were just saying we aren’t very hungry.”

Ginny pouted, but before she could scold them for ruining their dinner, Santa’s heartyho-ho-hofiltered into the dining room.

“Santa! Santa’s here!” Timmy shouted and pushed back his chair.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Ginny said, all focus on the twins again to keep them seated.

Jayda exhaled in relief. Michael thwarted Ginny’s curiosity for now, but when Jayda glanced at him, he was scanning the exits, jaw set, eyes sharp. She hadn’t thought about how he was feeling, only her own nerves.

The realization lodged like a splinter. He had nearly been killed tonight because of her.

What would she have said to Ginny and Ed if something had happened to Michael?

A sudden cheer rose from the children clustered near the stage. The big moment had arrived.

The man in the red suit swept in, his beard white as snow, bells jingling with each step. The lodge erupted in applause. Children squealed and rushed forward. Even the adults clapped and laughed as though their own childhoods had just walked through the door.

Timmy and Tyler froze. The boys who had been bouncing in their seats minutes earlier now clung to Ginny’s sleeves, eyes wide with awe.

“He’s…big,” Timmy whispered.

“I’m scared,” Tyler added.

They were practically trembling with trepidation. Jayda smiled at their expressions. Then Michael pushed back and stood, making his way to the twins. He crouched beside them.

“Hey. You know what? Santa’s probably nervous too. Meeting you guys? That’s a big deal for him.”

The boys blinked at him.

“You really think so?” Timmy asked.

Michael nodded. “Absolutely. So maybe you should go shake his hand. Just a handshake. Let him know you’re not scary.”

Slowly, Tyler hopped down and slipped his hand into Michael’s. Timmy followed. And with Michael leading, they walked up to Santa.

Jayda’s breath caught as she watched. Michael knelt, spoke quietly, and encouraged them. He didn’t push, didn’t tease. Just steady encouragement until, at last, both boys extended trembling hands to Santa. Soon the twins were whispering their Christmas wishes into his ear.

It was the first time Jayda had ever seen Michael this way. Gentle. Patient. Caring.

Had she been wrong about him all these years?

She wanted to reject the idea, to cling to her old view of him—the arrogant boy, the dismissive foster brother. But the evidence was standing right in front of her. Michael had put his life on the line for her. And now, here he was, guiding two frightened little boys into joy.

Her throat tightened.

“Family picture!” Ginny called suddenly. “Everyone, come on!”

Chairs scraped as the Blairs gathered near the tree with Santa. And before Jayda knew it, Ginny had tugged her into the lineup—right beside Michael.

“Perfect,” Ginny declared, stepping up beside her husband.

Jayda stiffened, feeling too close. She inched sideways to give him space—and herself. Then she felt his hand slip into hers and squeeze.

Her pulse stuttered.

It felt so right. But that couldn’t be right.

She pulled her hand free just as the photographer snapped the shot. The flash burst across her vision, and she turned to look at him, more stunned by the way she was feeling than the bright light.