“Every year?”
“Yes. I never got one. Not a real one, anyway.”
“I’m confused.”
“Dad tried to make it happen one year. He bought fake snow off the internet.”
Damon gapes. “You can buy fake snow?”
“Yes! He bought bags of the stuff and hid it in the shed. He got up super early on Christmas morning and covered the garden in the stuff. Or he tried to, anyway, but it didn’t go as far as he imagined, and it wasn’t good for snowball fights or building snowmen. But I loved it, anyway.”
“Your parents sound amazing.”
“They are.” I hold his hand. “Your parents sound amazing, too. They did everything they could to give you and Nigel good Christmases.”
He sighs. “They did more than they should have. No one should have to get into debt to give a child a happy Christmas.”
“Maybe not, but how do you explain to a kid that Santa bought their friends the latest toy or the coolest trainers, but not them?”
“You believe in Santa?”
“Believed. Past tense. Didn’t you?”
“Yes. But we only ever got one present from Santa, and it was always a token gift. My parents told us that Santa delivered one small gift to every child in the world, so everyone had something to open, but the rest of the presents—the expensive stuff—came from family and friends.”
“Wow. That’s a good explanation. I’ll have to remember that.”
“You want kids?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe. I haven’t thought about it. I’d need to settle down first, and then we’d decide together if that was something we did or didn’t want.”
“You want to settle down?”
I smile and nod. “Yes.”
“When?”
“Whenever I find the right person.” I bite my lower lip and dip my chin. “The right Daddy, preferably. I can’t imagine being with someone I couldn’t be kinky with.”
“Nor can I,” he whispers.
Could Damon be the right person? It’s something we’ll need time to figure out.
He tips my chin up and kisses me. “I think we might have reached the next part of the evening we planned, boy.”
“Bed?”
“To play.”
I hum. “Sounds perfect, Daddy. Do you mind if I use your shower first?”
“Not at all. I’ll tidy up in here and meet you in the bedroom when you’re ready.”
I return his kiss. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“It’s me who should be thanking you.”
“Why?”
