The sooner he was finished playing Santa, the sooner he could get back to Jamie. And to Kat.
They were just hurrying out when he heard the nurse speak again, and they turned simultaneously, but it was too late.
‘So, little man, of all days you might have had to come to the hospital, today is the best one you could have picked. Because Santa Claus is in the main children’s ward right now.’
‘Oh, wow.’ Jamie shuffled his bottom off the bed, even as Logan felt his stomach clench in apprehension. ‘I’ve got something I really, really, really have to ask him.’
Kat just looked horrified.
‘Oh, no, Jamie... I don’t think...’
She tailed off as he cast her a devastated look.
‘I can’t meet Santa?’
‘Listen, champ...’ Logan began, but when Jamie’s eyes began to tear up he hesitated.
His mind raced with what might happen if Jamie recognised him. But Jamie was only four, and he truly believed in Santa Claus. Would his son even recognise him in that padded suit complete with beard and glasses?
‘I don’t see why not,’ he relented, his heart in his mouth. ‘Just wait here a little longer whilst Kat gets your stickers, then maybe she’ll bring you along.’
‘You’re sure?’ Kat whispered nervously beside him.
He wasn’t. But now the nurse had put the idea—however unwittingly—into his son’s head, how could he refuse? He’d just better hope that the disguise was a good as he thought it was.
‘It’ll be fine,’ he assured Kat, turning his back so that Jamie couldn’t see him. ‘Just give me time to get back in there.’
How was it that this one woman made him feel like anything was possible?
And, more to the point, what was he going to do about it?
* * *
If he hadn’t been so on edge about his son watching him, Logan might have enjoyed the moment as Santa a little more.
Child after child waited for their turn, telling Santa their name and their favourite things to do, and then the gift they wanted most. And despite the fact that he knew his fake accent was shockingly bad—a mixture of several accents he only half knew—Jamie didn’t appear to notice anything unusual.
Even Kat, clearly tense when she’d first accompanied Jamie to the ward, was now beginning to relax. Logan took that as a good sign.
Finally, it was Jamie’s turn, and he liked the way Kat followed the little boy up to where he sat, ready to help Jamie onto his knee so that he didn’t damage his injured wrist.
She caught his eye as he lifted his son up, that tell-tale flush creeping down her cheeks. He
still affected her, which meant that her cold-shoulder treatment over the past two weeks was about her vulnerability, not about the fact that she wasn’t still attracted to him.
The thing was, he wanted more than just her being attracted to him. But what exactly did that mean? For himself, but also for Jamie? His son might love her company now, but that didn’t mean he would feel the same if Kat was in their life more frequently.
Maybe that would be too much for a young four-year-old whose mother had never really been present, even when she’d been around.
And then Logan caught Kat’s eye and something rushed him, chasing all the thoughts from his head. Right up until the moment his son started to speak.
‘I’m Jamie. I’m four.’
‘Hello, Jamie, who is four,’ Logan drawled in a stranger’s voice, quite convincingly to his mind. ‘And what are your favourite things to do?’
‘Hmm.’ Jamie cocked his head, stroking his four-year-old chin thoughtfully in some imitation of something he’d clearly seen.
Logan smothered a snort of laughter whilst Kat, as far as he could see, was doing little to keep her shoulders from shaking. But he wasn’t prepared when Jamie eyed him quite conspiratorially and started to speak.