Simon and the Christmas Spirit (9 page)

The door burst open, and Uncle Dion
poked his head in. “I believe a friend of yours has arrived. You’d
best come quick.”

Lilah groaned. “I told that horrible
theatrical agent I would find roles without—”

“
Not a friend of yours,
for a change of pace. Come on, Christopher my boy, comb your hair.”
He paused and said, “Best to hurry, for we’ll need to wrest a
bottle of extremely excellent champagne from your father.” His grin
was wide and wicked. “The rest is good news, I believe.”

As excited now as any child on
Christmas morning, Christopher quickly threw on some clothing.
Ignoring his rumpled hair, he rushed out to the “great room,” as
they all called the gathering area, though it was little larger
than the smallish card room at Simon’s club.

Simon.
The name was a sigh in his mind, a breath quickly released
and soon to be forgotten. And then Christopher beheld an apparition
in a red velvet robe and long white beard, staff in hand, which
dominated the great room. The eyes above the false beard and
moustache were a pale shade that could belong to none other
than…

“
Simon?” Christopher asked
as he glanced at the parcels and boxes strewn around Father
Christmas’s feet. Little Molly sat on the floor and was already
burrowing into one.

Christopher took a step closer to the
apparition and gazed into those eyes. He had an inclination to rub
his own to see if the vision went away. “Bugger me,” he
whispered.

Father Christmas leaned close to
murmur a reply. “If that is your Christmas wish, it could be
arranged.”

Chapter Seven

Simon felt a fool in his ridiculous
Father Christmas costume, but also rather like a completely
different person. The costume had been a last-minute impulse after
he’d rushed shop to shop on Christmas Eve, buying everything he
could before the stores all closed. Purchases overflowing his arms,
and others to be delivered to his house at the crack of dawn, Simon
had glimpsed the red robe and cap of the saint on a mannequin in a
toy shop window.

“
How much?” he asked the
proprietor.

The man, already agog at selling a
third of his inventory at the eleventh hour before he’d have to
mark down the prices, stammered, “For the… You mean you wish to
purchase the mannequin?”

“
The costume,” Simon
corrected politely.

That was how he came to enter the
Andrewses’ ramshackle home with a merry chuckle and a huge pile of
packages. Because his driver had the holiday off, the hackney
driver had to help carry them in.

Simon had never done such shopping in
his life and at shops he’d never set foot in before. For a man
who’d never so much as bought a parsnip, he felt as if he’d
accomplished a real feat purchasing what was needed for a whole
meal. He’d had all the packages delivered to his home the day
before. His strange behavior had set the servants abuzz. They’d
been eager and excited enough that he’d promptly had his carriage
return to the market to order more for the staff feast—and better
gifts for the servants’ Boxing Day celebration. And today he still
behaved thoroughly out of character.

Wearing the mask of someone other than
himself, he was brave enough to quietly offer his lewd suggestion
to Christopher. And oh, didn’t Christopher appear as dumbstruck as
Simon had hoped he be? And wasn’t he a handsome vision this morning
in a half-tucked shirt, patched trousers, and hair still tousled
from bed.

“
You…” Christopher began,
then shook his head.

“
I.” Simon smiled and felt
the false beard shift on his face and come unhooked from his right
ear.

“
You need some spirit gum
for that,” an older gentleman said, reaching out to touch his chin.
“Unless you want to make a comic turn?”

“
Father Christmas, have
you a dolly for me?” The little girl at his feet leaped up and
tugged on Simon’s sleeve.

Resuming his role, Simon quickly
readjusted the beard, then helped her search the many parcels until
he found the doll he’d purchased. Not knowing the exact ages of
Christopher’s siblings, Simon had bought a little bit of
everything, from baby clothes to young ladies’ parasols.

As more and more people crowded into
the room, there appeared to be a great deal more than the four
siblings Christopher had claimed to have. Simon was glad he’d
purchased a wide variety.

“
Good day to you, Father
Christmas,” a short woman with a beautiful oval face and a smile
exactly like Christopher’s beamed up at him. Her dyed blonde hair
showed only a bit of gray at her scalp. “God bless you for bringing
all these wonderful gifts. And would you care to stay for the feast
I shall make?”

She clutched the unopened bottle of
champagne that Simon had handed to the old man and that she’d
deftly snatched away.

“
Yes, ma’am. I’ve
distributed presents all night, and I’m rather famished.” Simon
played along, amazed at how easy it was to indulge in
make-believe.

Mrs. Andrews bustled off and called
out directions to her brood, who began to unpack the foodstuff he’d
brought.

“
Shan’t be able to cook
that goose, I’m afraid.” Christopher was right beside him, close
enough Simon could’ve reached out and taken his hand if he’d dared.
“Our stove is too small, and we’re out of coal. Although I suppose
one of the neighbors would oblige if offered a share of the
bird.”

“
I should’ve bought a
stove too. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Simon was crestfallen. He’d
tried to prepare for every contingency, but hadn’t even imagined a
home so poor that they didn’t have a proper stove to cook
on.

Christopher leaned into him, shoulder
against shoulder “I’m glad you came. And not because of all this.”
He waved his hand around at the purchases. “I hoped you’d change
your mind. May I introduce you to my family?”

“
I’m Father Christmas.
Aren’t I meant to know all their names already?” Simon teased. “But
perhaps you should refresh my memory. I’d hate to make a mistake
and insult Miss…” He gestured at the little girl rapidly destroying
the coiffure of her new doll.

“
Miss Molly.” Christopher
took Simon’s hand and brought him to the little girl.

Doll dangling from her hand, she
wrapped her arms around Simon’s robe-covered legs. “Thank you,
Father Christmas.”

He bent low to talk to her. “You’re
welcome, Molly. I hope you like the color of her hair.”

“
Red. Like mine. She’s
beautiful.”

“
As are you, sweetheart.”
He patted her forehead with one white-gloved hand, then
straightened to talk with Christopher some more. “Your youngest
sister?”

“
Not actually my sister.
She’s the daughter of a temporarily disabled juggler staying with
us. There’s my sister Lilah, and my other sister, Sally.” He
pointed toward the kitchen area, where two lovely young women
helped their mother unpack the carton from the
greengrocer’s.

After that, Simon was caught in an
onslaught of introductions to such a crowd of people, he’d never
recall all their names. As Father Christmas, he passed out every
last item he’d bought. The items that wouldn’t do for any of the
assembled relatives and guests spilled over to the neighbors’ house
to gladden their holiday as well. For someone used to a quiet,
well-ordered life, the chaos and clamor was almost too much for
Simon to bear. He was happy to be able to please and help all of
these people, but he was sweating under the heavy robe and needed a
moment to catch his breath and rest his hearing.

“
Father Christmas, won’t
you come into my room and see about that gift you had for me?”
Christopher’s eyes twinkled at him from across the room.

Simon caught his breath and looked
around the room, but no one seemed to be paying any attention. If
they understood the byplay, they made no note of it. Only the man
introduced as Uncle Dion, busily arranging a new paisley scarf
around his neck, glanced up and grinned.

“
Come,” Christopher
entreated. “You look like you could use a costume
change.”

Simon followed him through the warren
of rooms and the gauntlet of bodies. So many people to jostle
together in harmonious dissonance. Simon had never had such a view
of how the lower classes lived.

Christopher led him into a room the
size of a closet and closed the door, shutting out a little of the
din. He leaned against it and gazed at Simon. “You seem overheated.
Your cheeks are flushed. Would you care to take off that
robe?”

“
Yes, I think I shall.”
Simon shed the robe, its red velvet worn and the fur trim
moth-eaten from being packed away and then draped over a mannequin
for a few weeks each year. He took off the hat and the beard hooked
over his ears and wiped the sweat from his brow.

“
You wore all
that
underneath?”
Christopher laughed at his jacket and waistcoat.

“
I’d assumed I’d take the
costume off at some point and need proper dinner attire.” Simon
glanced down at himself. “Am I not dressed
appropriately?”

“
A bit formal for our
house, but very handsome.” Christopher moved close. “Maybe I could
help you shed a few layers. Turn around.”

Simon turned his back, and Christopher
helped him off with his jacket. Then he rotated Simon forward and
began to unbutton his waistcoat. He glanced up as his fingers
worked. “What changed your mind?”

“
I heard about your
brother losing his job and recalled what you’d said about giving
the children a good Christmas.” Simon tried to keep his attention
on Christopher’s face rather than the hands removing his waistcoat.
“I felt it was a bit my fault, the chain of events that led to his
dismissal and I wanted to…”

“
Help us poor unfortunates
during the holiday season?” Christopher joked, but there was a
slight edge to his voice as if he didn’t care to be an object of
pity.

“
That may have been the
start of it,” Simon admitted, “but I wanted much more than that. I
wanted to do something useful for a change, and I wanted to be a
part of a large family on Christmas Day. But most of all…” He
caught his breath with a quick gasp as Christopher unfastened and
reached into the front of his trousers, sliding a warm hand over
his groin. “I, ah, wanted to see you again. To talk with you and,
um, spend time with you.”

He clasped Christopher’s
wrist to stop him, and regarded him gravely. “Not because of
this
, although I’ll
admit it gives me great pleasure, but because of
you
. I truly enjoyed
talking and laughing with you and wanted to do it
again.”

Christopher nodded. “I wanted to as
well,” he answered simply. “I imagined I’d have to chalk it up to a
pleasant experience quickly over and forgotten. But all yesterday,
I could think of little that did not circle right back to you.
That’s not the sort of feeling I’m used to.”

Nor I
, Simon wanted to say, but it wasn’t strictly true. He had
felt such emotions before, for Millard and another man in his past.
But this time was different. At least he hoped it was.

“
Time will tell,” he
murmured aloud.

“
Tell what?” Christopher
resumed loosening Simon’s trousers to make more room for his hands
to work. He grasped Simon’s hardening cock and stroked
it.

“
Nothing. Just a thought.
Let us not think too deeply today but simply enjoy our time
together.”

“
That sounds very good to
me.” Christopher leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. He let
go of Simon’s cock to wrap his arms around Simon’s back and clasp
him tightly.

Together they stood with their bodies
pressed close and their mouths even closer, one invading the other.
Heat flickered in Simon’s groin and spread in a warm glow all
through him, body and spirit both.

He cupped Christopher’s jaw in his
hands, stubble scraping his palms as he savored one delectable kiss
after another. At last, minutes later, he pulled away. “Won’t your
family wonder what we’re doing in here? Should we go out and join
the party?”

“
Most of the adults would
suspect and don’t care. And we’ll be back with that herd soon
enough. For now…” Christopher backed him up and laid him down on
the hardest, narrowest bed Simon had ever reclined on. “Let me
shower
you
with
presents, Father Christmas.”

“
I shall be most happy to
receive them,” Simon said and smiled. “This well could be the
happiest Christmas I’ve ever celebrated.”

The End

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Bonnie Dee

Whether you're a fan of
contemporary, paranormal or historical romance, you'll find
something to enjoy among my books. I'm interested in flawed, often
damaged, people who find the fulfillment they seek in one another.
Please
sign up for my newsletter
to stay
informed about upcoming releases. Find me on
Facebook
and Twitter @Bonnie_Dee. For more information on
my back list go to
http://bonniedee.com
.
Please leave a review if you enjoyed this book. It really helps to
promote our work.