by Webster, K
“This is why I suck at being a lawyer,” I grumble. “I don’t like sitting back and waiting for the law to play out in favor of the victims. I want to step in and bring justice for them.”
He turns down a dark street and his eyes dart toward me. “In a perfect world, that’s what we do. But in this imperfect, complicated one, we do the best we can with what we can.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Growing up with my dad and hearing the constant jabs about attorneys being awful and wicked, I must say, it’s a stereotype. Not all attorneys are like my dad. Some of us care.”
We pull into a driveway behind a black sedan. Once we step out of the car, another man gets out. He walks over to Dane and shakes his hand. When I make my way to him, he smiles.
“You must be Nick. Pleased to finally meet you.”
“Nick,” Dane says. “Meet Lorenzo Tauber. Enzo, this is St. Nick.”
We all chuckle but then I grow serious when I look over at the house.
“And they’re expecting us?” I ask, nerves clenching in my stomach.
“They’re expecting a visit from Santa and some gifts. The foster mom wasn’t keen on a visit from the caseworker two days this week, but I convinced her this was something we do often and not part of the home study,” Enzo says. “We need to tread lightly.” His hand clasps my shoulder and his brows deepen into a frown. “It’s easy to get angry when we see injustices done to these kids. But for us to protect them and help them, we have to remain cool. I’m trusting you by taking you here with me.”
I nod and Dane gives me a smug grin. I’ve received the same lecture twice now. Do I look like the type of guy who’s going to waltz in there and come out with a kid in each arm?
Dane pops open the hatch and pulls out the giant red sack filled with wrapped presents for the children on Enzo’s list. I adjust my beard and pull on my cap that comes with fake white, curly hair. I’m a thin Santa but hopefully the kids won’t mind. The ones at Target surely didn’t.
Enzo walks ahead of us. The snow dusts his black coat and he slips a little going up the steps. Dane and I are more careful going up. By the time we reach the porch, Enzo has rung the doorbell.
A woman answers the door and eyes us all suspiciously before waving us inside.
“Mrs. Friedman, thank you for allowing us to come,” Enzo says politely, his voice a cold pitch I’ve never heard from him in all the phone conversations we’ve had.
She nods. “Not like I had a choice.” Her eyes narrow at Dane and I, but she doesn’t say much more on the matter. Once inside, I take note that the house isn’t as warm as Dane keeps his. I’m already tallying everything at fault here. Like the lingering scent of cigarette smoke. The fact that there isn’t one single Christmas decoration. That the kids aren’t in the living room and the home is creepily quiet.
I shoot Dane a glare and he shakes his head slightly at me as if to tell me to calm down. But I can’t calm down. The coldness of this home reminds me so much of my own. Such a stark contrast of Dane’s house. At his house, you can fucking relax, and it’s warm. Even Dane has a Christmas tree up with presents beneath.
“Kids! Get down here now!” Mrs. Friedman yells up the stairs.
Enzo’s jaw clenches but his features remain impassive. Dane’s brows have now furled together. I’m tense as well but I know my part. I’m Santa. For just a short while, my job is to make these kids happy. This, I can do.
I find the recliner and take a seat. Dane sets the bag beside me and leans against the wall, as though he wants to blend into it and observe. Enzo is our liaison here and smiles at me before winking. This is good. We’re doing okay.
A girl comes down the stairs holding a toddler on her hip. Her dark brown hair is smoothed straight except for the part the smaller girl is twisting around on her fingers. She glances over at us with hard green eyes and my stomach hollows out. This girl has seen some things, if the untrusting stare she pins on every adult in the room is any indication.
“Jenna,” Enzo greets, his voice rough. “Hi there, Cora.” His voice softens as he greets the little blonde girl. Cora buries her face in Jenna’s neck as if to hide from him. His shoulders hunch as though he’s dejected.
“Boys!” Mrs. Friedman bellows. “Get down here now! We have company!”
I flinch at her yelling. Both girls do the same and it has Enzo stepping toward them in a protective manner. Finally, three boys, including the Bryant brothers, start clomping down the steps. One boy has fire-engine red hair and looks to be about four. Malachi, at only seven, seems to be the protector over them just as Jenna looks after Cora. His arm is slung over his younger brother Xavier’s shoulders. Malachi and Xavier both have the palest gray eyes that are a stark contrast to their dark brown skin.
“Joseph,” Mrs. Friedman barks to the red-haired boy. “Santa is here. Isn’t that what you’ve been begging for all week?”
He peers up and his green eyes light up upon seeing me. I smile at him.
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” I say in my jolliest voice.
All the tension and fear that had him in its clutches is gone as he bolts my way. He climbs into my lap and tugs at my beard.
“You’re here!”
“Of course I am,” I tell him. “Have you been a good boy this year?”
His smile falls and he looks over at Mrs. Friedman for the answer. She simply purses his lips together.
“No,” he whispers, fat tears welling in his eyes.
I grit my teeth, swallowing the urge to tell the mean-ass lady to get lost. “I don’t believe that,” I tell him. “In fact, you’re on my good list, Joseph.”
He swipes away the tears and gives me a hopeful look. “I am?”
Nodding, I motion at Dane to hand me the gifts for Joseph. The boy oohs and ahhs over the wrapped gifts. As he opens his dump truck, pajamas, blocks, and stuffed animal, he shrieks with glee. Four presents were all I was allowed to buy for each of these kids. Growing up, had I only received four presents, I would have been devastated. This boy seems like this might very well be the best Christmas ever.
“Thank you, Santa,” he says happily and hugs my neck.
I hug him back and catch the stare of the youngest Bryant brother. Xavier watches me sadly. My heart cracks open right then.
“That’s enough, Joseph,” Mrs. Friedman snaps. “Jenna, take Cora over there.”
Jenna glowers at Mrs. Friedman but obeys. I catch Enzo staring after them with a look of heartbreak that must match my own. How can he handle a job like this? Every day would be torture.
Cora starts squealing when Jenna tries to sit her in my lap. She’s scared. Poor thing.
“Do you want to sit with her?” I ask Jenna.
Jenna frowns as though she doesn’t want to, but is thinking about Cora. “I’m a little too big.”
“I’m strong,” I assure her with a wink.
I earn a small smile from Jenna and she sits down on my knee. Cora, a little curious now that Jenna is sitting too, turns to regard me with big, watery blue eyes. She reaches out and touches my nose.
“Santa?” she whispers, so softly I almost didn’t hear.
“Merry Christmas, Cora. You’ve been a good girl this year. I brought you some presents,” I tell her.
“Sissy too?” she asks.
I know they’re not sisters, but it’s adorable that Cora seems to think they are. “Sissy too,” I agree. “Both the best girls on my list.”
Cora grins a toothy smile at me.
Dane hands me their gifts one by one. Cora is happy with her soft, crushed red velvet nightgown with a picture of Rudolph on the front. She loves the doll and coloring book, but it’s the stuffed koala bear that she seems to love the most.
Jenna is able to ease her to the floor where she can play with her new things. I hand Jenna her first gift. She’s so much like Christina that it hurts. They’re both pretty in that “young woman with determination glinting in their eyes” kind of way, but there is an innocence hiding in Jenna that doesn’t exis
t in my sister. Something that should be protected. Fuck, this is hard seeing these kids. I want to help them all. I want to pull them from this house and put them someplace where they’ll be happy.
“These are soft,” Jenna murmurs as she pets the flannel pajama set. “And warm.” Tears glisten in her green eyes and one snakes down her cheek. From across the room, I catch Enzo’s stare. He’s tense and coiled, and his hands are fisted at his sides. I know the feeling, buddy.
She opens the next present. It’s a pretty journal with a pen attached. A smile tugs at her lips. Then, she opens the bag with a necklace with angel wings on it, and finally, a kindle. Her mouth opens and she lets out a gasp.
“I can’t afford any books, though,” she whispers softly, enough for only us to hear.
But Dane leans down and grins. “Santa’s helper loaded a gift card on there while Santa was busy wrapping the other presents.”
She regards him with a huge smile. “Thank you.”
Jenna helps Cora and together, they move their things to the end of the couch near where Enzo is standing. Mrs. Friedman gets distracted by yelling at Joseph. My eyes are still on Enzo and the girls, so I witness something I wasn’t meant to see. He discreetly hands her a phone. She pockets it in her hoodie pocket and they continue on as if nothing ever happened.
A lifeline.
He just gave her a way to reach him if she needs help.
I’d run over and hug him if I didn’t have the Bryant boys edging closer to me. Malachi tries to get his younger brother to sit down first, but the little boy isn’t having it. With a heavy, too old for his years, sigh, Malachi sits on my lap.
“You, too, were a good boy,” I tell him.
He frowns and shrugs. “I guess.”
“You are,” I tell him firmly. “You are strong and resilient.”
His icy gray eyes lift to mine. The strength in him wavers as his eyes tear up. “I’m not strong.”
“You are.”
He smiles. “I am.”
Dane squeezes my shoulder briefly as he hands me Malachi’s first gift. He appreciates the pajamas and then laughs over his Rubik’s cube. His eyes light up when he opens the Lego set and he grins again when he unwraps a Darth Vader action figure. The boy who seemed too old for his age moments ago is now every bit the seven-year-old he’s supposed to be. I wish I could pause the moment and let him be a kid a little while longer.
Finally, after some coaxing, I get Xavier into my lap. For someone hesitant, he warms up quickly. I get hugged from the young boy and he doesn’t let go.
“I don’t want toys for Christmas, Santa.” His voice is croaky like a frog. So cute.
“You don’t?” I ask, surprised, shooting Enzo a panicked look.
He’s too busy pretending to make Cora’s koala talk. She giggles and the sound brings life to the sad home.
“No,” Xavier croaks. He leans in and whispers in my ear, “I don’t want anyone to hurt my big brother and me.”
I hug him to me for a long moment, blinking away the tears from my eyes. Dane, having overheard, peers down at him with such a heartbreaking stare. As though, if he knew how, he’d make this little boy’s dreams come true.
“I’m Santa,” I tell him, patting his back. “I have my ways of making miracles happen. Can you hang in there and look after your brother until I talk to my elves?”
He nods with such a hopeful look, I feel as though my heart is trying to claw its way out of my chest to hug him. With the sweet appreciation that the other children had, Xavier opens his gifts too. Matching pajamas with his brother. A puppy puzzle and an Iron Man action figure. But his favorite is the stuffed penguin to which he hugs, and then burrows against my chest, like he’d like to stay there for a while. I wish I could keep him there.
“I’m hungry,” Joseph whimpers.
Mrs. Friedman narrows her eyes at him. “No snacks after supper.”
I start to open my mouth but Enzo shakes his head. Fuck, this is hard.
“It’s time for Santa to go,” Mrs. Friedman says coolly. “He has other children to see.”
Xavier clings to me as though he doesn’t want me to go. I don’t want to fucking go either. Mrs. Friedman walks over and plucks him from my lap, making him yelp. I rise quickly to my feet, towering over her. She isn’t fazed by my size and simply walks over to the front door to open it.
“Thank you for allowing us to come,” Enzo says in a false, cheery tone. He shoots one last look at Jenna and Cora before walking out the door. Dane follows but I linger, letting my stare bounce from kid to kid before landing on the Bryant boys.
They both watch me with sad gray eyes but their shoulders are squared. They’re trying to be brave. To be strong. I clench my fists. Two arms, I only have two arms. And if Enzo wouldn’t kill me, I’d scoop Malachi up in one and Xavier in the other.
Cora clings to Jenna and Joseph stares longingly at the kitchen.
I only have two arms.
My heart cuts in half as I turn from them all and walk out the front door.
Alone.
As soon as the door closes behind me, I find Dane and Enzo in a heated discussion between their cars. Dane is visibly upset and Enzo is trying to calm him down.
“That was fucking torture,” I growl, my eyes feeling watery after seeing those kids in person.
“I know,” they both say at once.
Enzo sighs and clutches both our shoulders. “The day after Christmas, we see the judge. We’ll do what we can.”
“Thank you,” Dane says to Enzo. “Thank you for all you do. You should come over and have dinner with us one night.”
Enzo’s brows lift as he looks over at me and then to Dane. “You’re together?”
After tonight, I don’t care about my dad or my job or the fact Dane’s my boss. I don’t care that I’m not doing the career I want or that my dad pushes me around sometimes. I don’t care that my mom and sister are no longer individuals but something fake Dad has created. I don’t care that I’m not normally a relationship guy. None of that matters.
“We’re together,” I agree, taking Dane’s hand in mine.
Enzo smiles. “Yeah, I’ll come for dinner one night. See you in court.”
We wave to him and climb in the car. Once we’re driving, I yank off my cap and beard, then close my eyes and think. Dane is quiet beside me, and it isn’t until we’ve pulled into his garage and are getting out that either of us speaks. Dane pushes open the door into the house and closes it behind me.
“Those kids,” is all he says.
I think of Xavier’s words, and they replay over and over again in my head.
I don’t want anyone to hurt my big brother and me.
“I want to help them. Why is it so hard to help them?” I choke out, hating that I’m so weak. These kids have dealt with so much more and they stand there with their shoulders squared, wearing matching brave faces. I wish I were brave like them.
You can be.
My heart thumps at that idea. I can be brave. It starts small but I can do this. I’m already doing this with Dane. I’m changing the life my dad has molded for me into something I want for myself.
I want Dane.
“I’m going to quit,” I tell him softly as he walks into the kitchen.
He stops and whirls around. “What?”
“After their case is over, I’m quitting.”
“Why?” His gray eyes flash with hurt.
I walk over to him and kiss his mouth. He’s the one pouting now, and it’s a hot look on him. “Not us,” I clarify with a smile. “I can’t be an attorney anymore. It’s not what I want to do.”
His hands find my hips and he walks me until my back hits the fridge. Our mouths mate in a sweet, addictive way until we’re both panting. “I’ll hire you again.”
I laugh. “I don’t want to be an attorney. You can certainly try and persuade me, but it won’t work.”
He bites on my bottom lip in a playful way before reaching down to cup
me through my Santa suit. “Like this? Is this working?”
I groan when my dick hardens up. His naughty grin doesn’t help the state of my cock. Dane is hotter when he’s up to no good.
“That’s pretty convincing,” I say with a grunt.
“Would it be more convincing from my knees?” he asks with an arched brow.
“Most definitely.”
He drops to one knee, still dressed in his coat that’s covered in snow. As he pulls down the red velvet Santa slacks and then my gray sweats, I admire this man before me. Not just for his bedroom prowess. Not for how distinguished he appears with his older, more refined, looks. Not even for his fire-inducing smiles. I admire the man on the inside. The compassionate, driven, thoughtful, determined man. The one who somehow found the courage to go after this thing with us despite being worried about the outcome. His first shot at it was a fiasco with his best friend. The second time had to have been hard. But he did it anyway. And now, each day we’re together, I see him fighting for it. He wants it so badly. He fights for us. He fights for me, dammit.
Dane is protective and nurturing, somehow in the same man. Something my father would never be capable of being. Dane is a thousand times more man than that of my father. I’ve never known another man like Dane. I’ve never been so gutted at the thought of losing someone before, and the very idea of this being some sort of fling kills me.
“We’re not a fling,” I tell him huskily as he pulls my cock from my boxers.
“No, we’re not,” he agrees, stroking me expertly. “We’re much more. We always were.”
Our eyes are locked as he jacks his fist up and down my dick slowly. Pleasure coils in the pit of my stomach, but it’s what takes root inside my chest that has me pausing. Dane. He’s there. Inside my heart, making a motherfucking home. My sad, impenetrable heart has been breached. This man before me has burrowed his way inside and doesn’t seem keen on ever leaving.
“You think…” I trail off and hiss when his tongue teases my tip. “You think we’re the ‘forever’ type of guys?”
His grin is crooked and hot as hell. “I think we are.”
“What makes you so sure?”
