Then he turns, all gallantry, and extends his hand to me. His smile is for the crowd, but the glint in his eyes is for me alone, warning me that if I do something, I could destroy any chance at a real career. Every instinct in me screams to recoil. To refuse. To let the world see just how false this is.
But the children are watching. Wide-eyed. Believing.
So, I swallow the revulsion clogging my throat, press down the panic clawing at my chest, and slip my hand into his.
For them, I play the part of the adoring Mrs. Claus.
Even though it feels like betrayal.
The crowd in the square is electric, humming with anticipation. Children cluster at the base of the towering spruce, their mittened hands clasped as they chant, “Santa, Santa!” A hundred little faces watching, waiting for magic.
Beside me, Dylan basks in it. He puffs his chest, waves like a celebrity, and soaks in the attention as though he earned it. He leans closer, his voice a low murmur. “This is our moment, Jaylynn. Don’t ruin it.”
I don’t answer. My heart is hammering too loudly, every nerve in my body stretched tight.
And then—I see him.
Penn.
He’s cutting through the crowd at the edge of the square, no costume, just jeans and his dark leather coat. His jaw is locked, his shoulders rigid. Anger radiates off him, a storm barely contained. For a heartbeat, relief crashes over me so fierce my knees weaken. He’s here. He didn’t leave me.
But when his eyes find Dylan at my side, his expression darkens.
“Jay.” His voice cuts through the chatter like a blade.
Dylan turns, his mouth curling into a smug smile. “Well, well. Speak of the devil.”
Penn strides forward, stopping just short of the float. Children squeal at the sight of him—some recognizing him as one of the town’s hockey heroes—but Penn doesn’t break his glare. His hands clench at his sides, the only sign of the restraint it’s costing him not to grab Dylan.
“What the fuck, Dylan?” Penn’s voice is low, dangerous. He’s trying, for the kids’ sake, but I hear the fury under every word.
Dylan spreads his arms, Santa suit gleaming under the lights, playing to the crowd. “Someone had to step in when you didn’t show. Can’t disappoint the children, right?” He smirks.
“That’s not how this happened, and you know it.” Penn’s chest rises and falls with a sharp breath, like he’s wrestling the urge to lose control. His gaze flicks to me, and that’s when I see it. Penn Bradford. Radman. Madman. The enforcer.
Mayor Banks takes to the platform and picks up the oversized switch for the tree, beaming at the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, in just a moment, Santa Claus himself will light our Christmas tree!”
Cheers erupt, and the children scream with glee. Dylan soaks it in, and makes a move toward the stage. Penn steps closer, his voice dropping so only we can hear. “You and me, we need to talk.”
Dylan chuckles. “Careful, tough guy. Wouldn’t want to throw a punch in front of all these witnesses. Bad for your image. And hers.” He nods toward me, his voice pitched just loud enough to needle.
Penn’s eyes blaze, his fists flexing. For a split second, I see the storm break through the cracks in his control. Then he takes a step back, jaw tight, forcing the fury down. For the children. For me.
Penn’s voice is low, ragged, barely contained. “You can say whatever you want to me. Do whatever you want to me. But don’t think for one second I’m going to let you mess anything up for Jaylynn.”
Dylan scoffs, spreading his arms as though the entire town square is his stage. “Mess it up? You didn’t show. I did her a favor, Penn. I saved the day.”
Penn’s eyes flash. “You tried to sabotage this parade. You sent me on a wild goose chase, had me tearing across town thinking my aunt was in trouble. Do you have any idea the hell you put me through? What this could have done to Jaylynn’s career?” His voice shakes with fury. “Tell me, did you flatten her tires on purpose, too?”
I jerk my head toward him, shock stealing my breath. Tires? His aunt? What goose chase? My brain scrambles, trying to catch up.
Dylan smirks, like he’s relishing every second. “Jaylynn doesn’t even have a career to sabotage. But I’m going to rectify that. Me. I’m the guy who’s going to do that. She’s not going to make it out there in the real world without me. She tried once, and look how that turned out.”
Penn’s jaw clenches. His voice drops, but it vibrates with unshakable conviction. “You’re the one who needs her to...” He falters, turns toward me. For a split second, I see the storm in his eyes—the war he’s waging inside. What is it he’s trying to say to me?
He faces Dylan again, voice steady and fierce. “For the record, she does have a career. And don’t you ever diminish her like that again. She doesn’t need you—or anyone—to make it. She’s strong, and smart, and she can do anything she sets her mind to.”
Dylan barks a laugh. “Smart? I wouldn’t go that far. Not if she’s wasting her time with you.” His voice sharpens like a blade. “You’re an enforcer, Penn. A thug. A nothing who’s never getting off the fourth line. Even she knows that.”