21. Aiden

CHAPTER 21

Aiden

Levi was a fucking dream, and I couldn’t stop myself from falling deeper into him. I’d never been the type to make booty calls, but here I was, dialing his number like it was the only thing that made sense. The sex had been explosive, the kind that left my body buzzing and my head spinning. Now, as I lay with my head pressed against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat was the only sound that mattered. His fingers traced lazy circles on my back, brushing over the sweat that still clung to my skin.

"Tell me something about you I don’t know," I murmured, lifting my chin to catch his gaze.

His eyes flickered in the soft light, thoughtful and a little vulnerable.

“Today’s thirteen years,” he said after a pause, his voice low, almost hesitant.

I shifted, propping myself up on one elbow. “Thirteen years since what?”

“The last time I saw my dad.”

The weight of his words settled between us. I didn’t press, letting the silence encourage him.

“He left right before Christmas,” Levi continued, his hand stilling on my back. “Paige was three. I was eighteen, about to head off to college. Guess he figured it was as good a time as any to walk away.”

I traced a finger along the curve of his bicep, grounding both of us. “That must’ve been hard. For you. For your mom.”

“It was.” He sighed, his chest rising and falling beneath me. “The good thing is my mom had her parents for support. My grandparents were solid. They helped her pick up the pieces, even if it wasn’t the life she’d planned.”

“You were heading to college. How’d you deal with all that and still leave?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. She wouldn’t let me stay, no matter how much I wanted to help. Told me I had to live my life.” His lips curved into a faint smile. “She’s stubborn like that.”

I smiled too, imagining the strength it must’ve taken for his mom to stand firm. “What did you study?”

“Journalism. I wanted to be a travel writer. I had dreams of seeing the world, telling stories that mattered.” He fell quiet for a moment. “Funny how things change.”

“What happened?”

“A distant relative left the tree farm to my mom. She wasn’t in a position to take it on, but it felt wrong to let it go. So I gave up my journalism career. I learned about how to run a tree farm and moved up here. It was a chance to build something—a legacy. Something Paige could feel proud of.”

My chest tightened at the quiet resolve in his voice. “No regrets?”

“None.” He met my gaze, his expression steady, sincere. “If I had to do it all over again, I’d still choose this. The farm. This town. My life here.”

“You’re incredible,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

His hand resumed its slow caress of my back. “What about you? What brought you back here, Aiden?”

“Not nearly as noble as your story,” I said, laughing softly. “I guess I needed a fresh start. My brother Nicholas stayed in Juniper Hollow, and I… needed space. He raised me after our mom died, and I felt like I owed it to him to find my own path.”

Levi’s eyes softened. “Your dad?”

“Gone before I can even remember. Nicholas says he bailed when I was a toddler.”

We fell silent, the parallels between us filling the air. Both abandoned by our fathers. Both trying to carve out lives far from where we started.

Levi kissed the top of my head, his lips lingering. “We’ve got more in common than I realized.”

I grinned against his chest. “Yeah, well, we also both like hearing Daddy in bed, so there’s that.”

He laughed, the sound low and rumbling. “That we do. But for me, it’s more than just sex. Being a Daddy means taking care of someone, being their safe place. You get that, right?”

I nodded, my throat tightening. “Yeah, I get it.”

We stayed like that for a while, wrapped in the warmth of the moment. Then Levi shifted, sitting up slightly, glancing around the room.

“You got a notepad or some paper?” he asked, his voice casual.

I blinked at him, puzzled. “Uh... sure,” I replied, slipping out of bed. My body was still humming with the aftershocks of what we’d just shared, but I didn’t mind the distraction. I rummaged through the messenger bag on the chair by the window, grabbing a notepad and a couple of pens.

I climbed back into bed, pulling the covers up around me.

“What now?” I asked, eyes on the notepad in front of me.

“We’re gonna write letters to Santa,” he said.

I blinked at him. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” he said with a smile, stretching out his hand to gently take the notepad from my grasp. “It’s a tradition I used to do with Paige every year.” He tore off two sheets of paper, handing me one and keeping the other for himself. “We’d write down what we wanted most and leave it under the tree. Felt fitting, since you’ve got the cutest tree from the farm, and we just finished decorating it. Thought it’d be fun to start the tradition again.”

“You’re right, the tree is the cutest.” I hesitated, the pen feeling heavy in my hand. “But what are we supposed to ask for?”

“Whatever your heart wants.”

He leaned back, scribbling on his paper with a faint smile. I stared at the blank page in front of me, his words sinking in.

What did my heart want?

Minutes passed before I began writing, my pen moving in slow, deliberate strokes. When I finished, I folded the paper and placed it on the nightstand. Levi did the same.

“Not going to share?” he asked, teasing.

“Not yet.” I smirked. “Maybe on Christmas Eve when we unwrap our gifts.”

He pulled me close, his arms a solid, reassuring weight. “Fair enough.”

For now, the letters remained private, but I couldn’t help wondering if our wishes weren’t so different after all.