Page 47 of The Bear's Christmas Wish
“It might be one of my many hidden talents,” he said gravely.
Something warm and wild burst in Sarah’s chest—gratitude and something deeper she wasn’t ready to name. Without thinking, she rushed forward and pressed her lips to Michael’s cheek. The brief contact sent electricity through her body, her lips tingling even as she pulled away.
“Thank you,” she whispered, suddenly shy as heat flooded her face.
Michael looked stunned, his hand rising to touch the spot where she’d kissed him. His eyes, when they met hers, were dark and full of something that made her stomach flip.
“Grab your things, sweet pea,” Sarah said, turning to Emmy to hide her flushed face. “Let’s see if Michael really knows how to drive a sleigh.”
Emmy didn’t need to be told twice. She dashed up the stairs to get her backpack, footsteps thundering overhead.
“I’m sorry,” Sarah said, not quite able to meet Michael’s eyes. “That was…I shouldn’t have…”
“Don’t apologize,” Michael said, his voice hoarse. “Not for that. Not ever.”
When she finally looked up, the tenderness in his expression made her breath catch. Before she could respond, Emmy came clattering back down the stairs, backpack slung over one shoulder.
“I brought snacks!” she announced. “And my camera. And an extra hat in case it gets super cold.”
“Smart thinking,” Michael said, his eyes still on Sarah. “We should get going if we want to catch them.”
The drive to the sleigh ride staging area took less than ten minutes, but Sarah spent every second hyperaware of Michael beside her. Her lips still tingled, and she couldn’t stop reliving the moment she’d impulsively kissed his cheek. What had she been thinking?
That’s just it, she hadn’t been thinking at all. She’d beenfeeling.A curious mix of gratitude and wonder and something else. Something that made her heart race whenever he looked at her.
When they pulled into the parking area, Sarah’s hopes fell. The place looked deserted except for a lone figure bundling harnesses into a shed.
“Wait here,” Michael said, climbing out of the truck. He jogged over to the man, gesturing animatedly as they spoke.
Emmy pressed her face against the window, her breath fogging the glass. “Do you think we’re too late?”
“I don’t know, sweet pea.” Sarah squeezed her daughter’s hand. “But whatever happens, Michael was very kind to bring us here.”
After what seemed like forever, Michael returned to the truck, his expression unreadable. He opened the driver’s door and leaned in.
“Well,” he said, with a slow smile spreading across his face. “It looks like today is your lucky day. Nolan was just about to take the last sleigh back to the barn.”
“You mean we’re not too late?” Emmy asked as if she could barely believe it.
“Not too late,” Michael confirmed.
Emmy squealed with delight, already scrambling to unbuckle her seat belt. Sarah’s heart swelled with relief as she watched her daughter’s excitement return full force.
“Michael,” she began, not even sure how to express what she was feeling.
He shook his head, cutting off her thanks. “Come on,” he said, holding out his hand to help her from the truck. “Your sleigh awaits.”
Chapter Nineteen – Michael
The sleigh’s wooden frame creaked beneath them as Michael settled onto the driver’s seat, his heart hammering with the same wild joy he’d felt when he was a child and his mom would take him on sleigh rides through the forest.
But this time it was different. This time, Sarah and Emmy huddled close beside him, their cheeks already flushed from the cold, eyes bright with anticipation.
After harnessing their reindeer, Fable, to the sleigh, Nolan had given him a knowing wink before disappearing back to the barn, leaving Michael in charge of the magnificent beast stamping impatiently in its harness, ready and willing to fly across the snow to catch up with his friends.
“Is everyone tucked in?” Michael asked, glancing down at Emmy’s small face peering out from beneath her bobble hat.
“Yes!” Emmy clutched the edge of the sleigh, her mittens gripping the polished wood so tightly her knuckles must have been white beneath the wool.
