Page 110 of Sexted By Santa
Cassie nodded, accepting the news with more grace than me or her mother. “Okay. She’d probably be mad if she didn’t get a present anyway.”
I chuckled. “Good call.”
Despite my aching heart, I was filled with wonder at the compassion in Cassie, that her first thought was not for herself, but for her friend. Each of these children was dealing with illness or injury, yet they all greeted me with a smiling face. They required less performance from me than any other event, because they seemed to accept me and whatever I chose to give them. It would be tempting to think they’d just stopped expecting the best out of the world, yet I saw the happiness sparkling in their eyes. They were still filled with the joy of children on Christmas.
Even in a hospital. Even with a Santa who was too thin, too reserved to be accurately described as jolly.
I glanced toward the doorway as I finally returned to the kid on crutches and gave him the final gift. Jaxson stood there, leaning against the doorjamb, a small smile playing on his lips.
“You were great,” he said after I’d wrapped up the game, gotten a couple of volunteers to lead us in a Christmas song, and waved goodbye.
“I learned from the best.”
He chuckled. “Nah, that was all you.” He leaned in to whisper in my year. “And I amsomaking you wear that Santa hat when I get you alone tonight.”
I laughed, feeling my cheeks go red, even though I was far too old to blush. Jaxson’s flirtation always got to me.
“Behave, or I’ll put you on the naughty list.”
“Oh, please do,” he purred.
We continued down the hall toward Tori’s room, snickering together like schoolboys, and despite my sadness for the families who had to spend the holidays at the hospital, I felt uplifted too. I’d helped brighten their day, just as Jaxson brightened all of mine.
Maybe there was something to this “holiday spirit” business after all.
26
JAXSON
“Merry Christmas do-over!” Tori dove into the bed, landing a bony knee on my thigh and an elbow against my ribs. Sir Elton John followed her up with an excited snort.
Beside me, Christian let out a pained grunt that matched mine.
“Easy,” I grumbled. “Try not to maim us, or Christmas will have to wait again.”
“Sorry!” Tori scrambled back out of the bed, followed by Sir Eltonagain, which was nearly as painful. “Get up. Please? It’s time for presents!” She hopped a little in her excitement, eyes bright. “I’ve been waitingforever.”
Forever was approximately one week. We’d agreed on New Year’s Day for our Christmas do-over because I’d had to work the week after Christmas. We would have let Tori open her presents anytime, but she wanted a “real Christmas” together. Not that I blamed her. I wanted to experience Christmas with my new, complete family too: a cozy morning with Christian and Tori, followed by an afternoon tea at Aunt Henry’s.
Christian turned a sleepy smile on me. With the warmth and affection pouring out of him so strongly, I was amazed I’d ever thought of him as cold or distant.
“Merry Christmas, Santa,” I said with a wink.
His cheeks went pink above his salt-and-pepper beard, which was adorable on a man who generally looked distinguished and put together. No doubt he was remembering the Santa role play he’d finally given in to the night before. I shivered at the memory of Christian in the Santa hat, the big red coat hanging open over a naked body, his mouth around my—
“Hurry up, don’t get all kissy!” Tori ordered. “I want pancakes, and we still need to check my sugars.”
Christian ducked his head into my shoulder, chuckling, while I sighed dramatically. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”
“Okay, but I’m setting the timer on my phone!” she trilled as she finally left.
“I’m raising a dictator,” I grumbled, even though I was proud of her.
Since her hospital stay, Tori had been more vigilant about her health, going as far as to remind me when she needed insulin, checking her monitor without being asked, and even volunteering to calibrate her glucose monitor more often despite detesting the fingerstick required to do it.
Of course, three days in the hospital undergoing fluid replacement, electrolyte therapy, and intravenous insulin therapy—along with meds to counteract the flu—would make anyone want to avoid a repeat. Silver lining? I didn’t think Tori would ever put her health at risk again. After she’d returned home, we’d all had a serious talk about the ways Tori and I were handling our stress and the need to find better outlets for our frustrations. At Christian’s encouragement, we’d both signed up for support groups.
Letting Tori out of my sight after such a health scare had been incredibly difficult—and demonstrated exactly why I needed more support. My anxiety about her well-being verged on being unhealthy, and I knew it. Talking to other parents would hopefully help me develop some strategies.
