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“That sounds like a wonderful present.” Carefully resting one hand on his knee and another on his back so I could gently rub it, I did my best to sound like a happy mall Santa who had no idea the person on his lap had asked for a trigger. “Do you like bouncing?”

I needed more information before I was going to promise him a fucking trampoline.

Nodding excitedly, Stirling squirmed again and I had to remind my dick he wasn’t supposed to be paying attention to what we were doing. “I really like bouncing, Santa, and I’ve been talking to my friend about how much I liked it. He said I should ask for a trampoline since I liked it so much.”

Oh.

He’d been talking about trampolines in therapy?

Toys?

Ways to relax?

“Then I think that would be a wonderful toy to get you for Christmas.” It’d need to have one of those nets around it and he’d need supervision, but it wasn’t an unreasonable request. “Now let Santa think. What else did you say? A truck and a coloring book?”

Wait.

He hadn’t been talking about a new car.

A coloring book?

What the fuck had he been doing in therapy?

Chapter 6

Stirling

Hmm.

I wasn’t sure if I was as good at being subtle as I’d pictured.

“I like coloring and I want a big truck that has lights. My friend has one and that’s what I want. It has lights that work and it has a remote that makes it go and it has a horn too.” Conner made sure the littles at the club had the best toys to play with.

Rhett’s eyes flashed wide for a second when he realized what I was talking about.

Ugh.

He had questions.

I knew it was too much to hope that he’d just go with the flow…Rhett didn’t have any flow.

He worried.

He planned.

He made lists.

He was even very good at taking care of me without making it feel like he was caretaking me.

Hmm.

What would the littles do?

If I was going to try being one, then I needed to learn to think like one. Cheek kisses were important, so I gave Rhett one of those. Being cute or a brat was very important. I liked being cute better, so I made my eyes wider and smiled bigger.

Oh, and I didn’t have to sound like a grown-up since I wasn’t going to be one.

“Can I have a truck, Santa?” That was easier to say than Daddy. I’d practiced but it always gave me a tummy ache. “I like sitting on your lap, Santa.”