“Nope,” Kara answered with a devious look. “But I’m thinking about doing a lot of frivolous buying right now.”
“You’re up to something.” Maddie’s expression was playful. “Spill it.”
Kara explained her idea and her reasoning to Maddie before both women pulled out their credit cards with obscene credit limits and nearly shopped until they both dropped.
A few nights later, Simon was doing a nighttime check on Timmy’s blood sugar when the boy asked him, “Do you think there’s really a Santa Clause, Simon? Kara says there is, but he’s never shown up for me before.”
Simon looked at the bleary-eyed boy, his chest aching. Santa had never found him and Sam when they were kids either, but he wanted Tim to believe in Santa Claus for the rest of his damn life. The kid had gotten majorly screwed throughout his early life, and he needed some magical time. All kids did.
Honestly, Simon had found his magical time with Kara, so he no longer thought much about his unfortunate early life. What he shared with her more than made up for having a crappy childhood. But Tim deserved more. “Kara’s pretty smart.” Simon swallowed a lump in his throat as he looked at Timmy’s sugar level, relieved when it looked fine. “And yeah, I know Santa exists. I think he brought me Kara because he accidentally missed me a few times when I was a kid,” he explained carefully. “Santa isn’t perfect, but he generally makes up for it later if he misses your house a few times.” He disposed of the strip and the trash from checking Timmy’s sugar and sat down on the boy’s bed.
Tim’s face scrunched up in concentration. “So, maybe being with you and Kara for Christmas is my big gift for Santa missing me before.” He looked satisfied with that explanation.
Jesus. It sucked when a kid was just grateful to be taken care of and have a roof over his head.
“Santa will find you this year. He knows where I live,” Simon told the child gruffly.
“Do you think so?” Tim’s face lit up like a lantern.
“I know so,” Simon told him adamantly, ruffling the boy’s dark hair.
Maybe he shouldn’t be encouraging a lie, but hell, the boy had done plenty of living in cold, hard reality. Some fantasy wouldn’t hurt. Tim deserved at least one damn extraordinary Christmas, and Simon was determined to see him happy.
“You don’t think I’ll get taken away before then?” Tim asked anxiously.
Fuck. Simon hated seeing that uncertain look in the little boy’s eyes. “No. I won’t let anybody take you away. Do you trust me?”
Tim nodded and flung his small body toward Simon. He caught the child as Tim slammed against his chest, hugging him tightly, protectively, settling him on his lap.
“I don’t need nothin’, Simon. You already gave me more than I need. I just want to stay here with you, Kara and Ginny for Christmas,” Tim mumbled, his voice full of longing.
Simon gulped and held Tim tighter as he vowed, “You’re not going anywhere. You’ll be here.” They’d have to go through him to get to this child in his grasp. “Now, get some sleep before Kara gets mad at us.”
Tim giggled as he flopped back onto his pillow. “She never gets mad. She just gives me this look sometimes when she isn’t very happy about something I did or said.”
Simon nodded in agreement. “Tell me about it. I’ve seen that look a lot more times than you have.” He knew all about ‘the look’ and he hated it. When Kara wasn’t happy, he wasn’t happy.
“Night, Simon,” Tim said sleepily.
Simon stroked a hand over the boy’s neatly trimmed hair, a cut that Kara had done herself. “Sleep tight, Tim,” he answered in a shaky voice. The kid was getting to him, making him feel protective, as though the boy were his own child.
Getting up, Simon clicked off the overhead light, leaving only a nightlight to illuminate the room.
“Simon?” Tim called tentatively.
Simon turned around. “Yeah?”
“I don’t have nothin’ to give anybody this year. It’s only a week until Christmas, and I want to give something to you, Ginny, and Kara,” Tim murmured, his tone upset. “Can you help me make something?”
Simon smiled in the darkness. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow if you go to sleep right now,” he muttered happily. “I like to Christmas shop.” Kara would kill him, but hell, he had to let the kid buy some stuff.
“I’m sleeping,” Tim vowed adamantly.
“Good.” Simon left the door open a crack and made his way back to his bed to snuggle with his warm, sleeping wife.
Personally, he felt he never needed to receive another gift for the rest of his life. Kara was the best damn gift he’d ever gotten.
But hell, it was great to be a billionaire, and he was damn good at buying stuff. Smirking deviously, Simon was happy because he could buy more stuff for Kara and Ginny. His wife couldn’t get irritated if the presents were from Tim.
“Da-da,” little Ginny Hudson said happily as Simon spread a mashed banana and some cheerios on the plate of her high chair.
Kara watched as he grinned hugely, right before his daughter threw her arm out and accidentally smacked him in the face. He completely ignored it as he straightened, boasting to Kara, “See how smart she is? Who is mama, Ginny?”
She moved over to her daughter as Ginny babbled, “Ma-ma,” waving her arm toward Kara.
Simon had a silly grin on his face that said he thought he had the smartest daughter in the universe.
She leaned over and kissed her darling daughter on the head, Ginny’s face already covered in mashed banana. “That’s right, my sweet girl,” she cooed, watching as Ginny flung Cheerios, only a few of them ending up in her mouth.
“Damn,” the toddler muttered clearly.
Kara folded her arms in front of her and gave Simon an irritated glance.
“What? I didn’t teach her that!” he protested.
“Then where did she hear it?” Kara asked curiously. Really, it was rather hard to keep a straight face, the sound of that word coming out of her daughter’s mouth startling. “Little ears have to learn from somebody.”
“I’m sure it was just baby talk,” Simon argued, but he didn’t meet Kara’s eyes. “It only sounded like she was saying da—” He halted quickly and finished, “Um…a bad four letter word.”
“It might be my fault,” Timmy said unhappily as he joined them in the kitchen for breakfast. “I used to say it sometimes until Simon said it wasn’t a nice word,” he confessed, looking at Kara warily. “I’m sorry.”