We came together. “Kenna,” I groaned, shuddering against her as I trailed my mouth down her shoulder. “You’re so perfect.”
“That was certainly the perfect way to wake up.” She giggled, and the sound filled me with a strange mix of happiness and desperation.
I didn’t want to lose her.
Not yet.
Thus, I wasn’t going to push the subject. We’d just enjoy each other today. We’d help each other forget about the people we were missing.
Just as I returned from the bathroom after cleaning up, my phone rang on the bedside table. “It’s Michael,” I told Kenna as she sat up in bed.
She smiled but bit her lip shyly, making me want to kiss her. Instead, I grabbed my phone, eager to hear my son’s voice.
“Happy Christmas, Michael,” I answered.
“Dad! Happy Christmas!” He sounded excited and a pang of longing hit me. “I can’t wait to come home and open my presents!”
I’d told him Santa would drop off his presents from me here at the house so I could still experience a bit of Christmas with him when Deena brought him home tomorrow.
“Did Santa bring you cool stuff at your mum’s?”
“You can stop with the Santa stuff. Jim told me he’s not real.”
Anger tightened my throat and I choked out, “Jim told you Santa isn’t real?”
I heard Kenna suck in a breath and looked at her. She glowered ferociously and mouthed “Fucking asshole” and I think I fell just a wee bit more in love with her.
“I’m ten, Dad, nearly eleven. I kind of already knew.”
“Well, Santa doesn’t visit people who don’t believe in him, so that’s probably why Jim thinks he doesn’t exist.”
“Dad.” Michael laughed. “You don’t have to pretend. Okay?”
I wanted to fucking kill Jim. It was bad enough Michael was growing up so fast … did we as adults have to force them out of childhood? When I was a kid, there was nothing more magical than believing in Santa. Yes, it was heartbreaking when I discovered he wasn’t real, but I wouldn’t trade it for how bloody magical those eleven years of my life were when I still believed in him.
Changing the subject, I asked him what they were up to. Michael chatted away about the new phone Deena had bought him and games for his games console. Then he got quiet and asked, “Can I stay at home for Christmas next year?”
My heart lurched. “Why? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine. I just … I like our traditions better. And I thought maybe I could just stay with Mum one weekend a month instead of at Christmas.”
I smiled as I sat down on the bed. “We’ll figure something out. But if you want to spend your Christmases at home from now on, you can.”
A soft palm pressed against my back and I turned to see Kenna smiling at me. She slid her hand around my shoulders as she moved to press a kiss on my nape. The move made her naked breasts press against my back and arousal rose in me again.
Terrible timing.
“Do you think it’s okay if I call Kenna?” Michael suddenly asked.
I stiffened, and Kenna felt it. “Uh, of course you should call Kenna. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”
Kenna pulled back, eyes wide. And then she was scrambling out of bed. If she wasn’t so fucking gorgeous, it would’ve been funny to watch her hurry naked from the room, presumably to get dressed and find her phone.
“Okay, I’ll call her next.”
“You do that. I love you, son. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”
“Love you, Dad. Bye!”
