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Caden looked down at the box in his hand. “I know,” he said softly. Carefully, he ran his finger over the tape, sealing the paper down. Then he set the box on the floor under the tree.

John could see the struggle in the slump of their little shoulders. They’d whispered for days, planning how to catch Santa. John started rolling back toward the bedroom.

“I think we should go back to bed,” Wyatt said, climbing to his feet. “Look, even the cookies are gone.”

The boys moved to the coffee table, and the conspicuously empty plate and glass of milk. John had made sure to clean them off himself. Grinning, he nudged his bedroom door open, and pushed his wheels backward. Then, swinging around, he closed the door, leaving just a crack of viewing area. The boys turned toward him, and their room, but they didn’t see him. Tiptoeing down the hallway, they went into their room and closed the door. John could hear them whispering as they climbed into bed.

Rolling to the bassinet, he looked down at his daughter, pride swelling in his chest. She slept like an angel, her cheeks rosy and plump from Shannon’s breast milk. He wanted to reach in and stroke those cheeks, but he didn’t dare wake her.

Turning, he circled the bed and climbed in. Shannon didn’t even shift as he settled beside her and fell asleep.

* * *

When Shannon roused at three to feed a crying Sophia, John got out of bed with her.

“Time for Santa to go to work,” he said, and Shannon grinned at him. For a moment, he watched her nurse his baby daughter, marveling at what the human body was capable of. He stroked a finger down Sophia’s downy head and pressed a kiss to Shannon’s lips. She was half asleep, her fingers curled protectively around the baby.

He had to get moving. Shifting out of the bed, he rolled through the bedroom door and closed it softly behind him. Pausing at the door to the boy’s room, he peered inside. Obviously, the crying baby hadn’t woken them, because they both snored softly in Caden’s bed. They each had a bed, but they persisted in sleeping together most nights. Shannon was convinced that’s when they did all their scheming. Closing the door softly, he continued down the hall to the living room, and the Christmas tree. Using a trash bag, he collected the ‘bad boy’ presents, checking them. They all still seemed to be sealed. The boys hadn’t given in to their burning curiosity.

He shoved the bag of bad gifts into a storage container in the garage and retrieved the bags of real gifts. He’d have to make three or four trips to get all the crap inside and under the tree…

Carmella followed along as he lined everything up and positioned the unwrapped toys. It took him five trips to get everything. Each boy had gotten a low, three-wheeled tri-cycle, and they were a bitch to get in the house without making a huge amount of noise. Wyatt’s gifts were on the left side of the tree, and Caden’s gifts were on the right. And none of them looked like the bad boy gifts that had been under the tree earlier. John wondered if they’d even notice the difference.

Once he had everything out, and their stockings filled with knick-knacks and candy, he returned to bed. Sophia was already back in her bassinet, and Shannon had gone back to sleep as well. Life with a newborn was hard, and he didn’t blame her for not staying up for the Santa antics. Closing his eyes, he let sleep claim him again.

* * *

Something nudged him from sleep seemingly moments later. John opened his eyes and jerked back with a grunt. Caden stared at him from inches away. Obviously, the scrutiny had roused him.

“What, Caden?” he growled.

“Dad, it’s time! It’s Palmer Christmas!”

John blinked and lifted his head. Light was coming in the blinds, so it was at least seven in the morning. The boys had actually given them more time than he’d expected. When he rolled his head, Shannon was grinning at him. Wyatt stood on her side of the bed. It was obvious the boys had woken them without waking them.

“Okay,” John whispered, aware that Sophia seemed to still be sleeping. “Let us use the bathroom and stuff, and we’ll be out. Can you guys play in your room for ten minutes?”

Caden rolled his eyes. “Come on, Wy.”

He and Shannon shared a look as the boys jogged out, closing the door behind themselves.

They used the bathroom and got dressed, kind of. Life with a newborn consisted of sleep pants and T-shirts, so that’s what they rolled with. When they left the bedroom, the boys were impatiently waiting at their door. “Can we come out now?” Wyatt asked, jumping in place.

“Come on, boys,” John said, grinning. “Let’s see what Santa brought you.”

Carmella jumped up, tail wagging, when the boys raced in, as if she hadn’t seen them for days. Shannon let the dog out to go potty, then settled to the couch. John stopped his chair beside her, and watched the excitement on the boy’s faces as they found the three-wheelers. One was red and one was gray. John had had a Big Wheel when he’d been a child, and he could still remember how fast he’d been able to go on the thing.

The boys squealed as they jumped on their respective tricycles and began riding them around the living room, bumping into furniture. John laughed as he joined in the chase, shoving the bikes forward with his foot props when he caught up with them. The boys giggled like crazy, and he looked forward to doing it out in the driveway later.

“Come on, boys,” Shannon chided, looking at him pointedly. “Let’s see what else Santa brought.”

The boys started going through their presents, but Caden paused, looking at the wrapped boxes. His little face scrunched up into a frown, and he went to Wyatt to whisper in his ear. Wyatt paused what he was doing and looked around too, then shrugged.

John knew that Caden had noticed that none of the boxes looked like the ones from the night before. John had done that on purpose.

“Thank you, boys, for being patient,” he said into the silence. “You know, I remember a story one of the workers told me when I was little. Sometimes Santa likes to trick little boys that try to catch sight of him bringing presents.”

The boys looked at each other, then at their father. “Really?” Wyatt said, his R sounding more like a W.

John nodded. “Yes. Christmas is all about magic, and Santa would bring the presents. But they would have coal in them, or sticks. Then, sometime through the night, they would magically turn into the gifts that he wanted the children to have. The gifts that the elves had built them. If the boys and girls opened the presents too early, they went on the naughty list, and they would get the coal and the sticks that were in the box. They would break the magic themselves.”

The boys’ eyes widened, and they gave each other a look. Then they looked at the presents. Caden broke into a grin. “I’m glad he decided we were on the good list then!”

John chuckled, nodding. Later on, he would have to tell Shannon about the boys’ escapade last night.

The boys tore into their other presents. John had done a lot of the shopping since Shannon had been so heavily pregnant, and he’d enjoyed himself immensely. The boys were at the age they could appreciate toys that had been his favorites when he’d been a kid. Lincoln Logs, race car sets, their first Duplo sets. Paw Patrol, of course. He grinned as he watched the enjoyment on their faces as they went through the packages. He’d done too much, probably, but he didn’t care.

When he glanced at Shannon, he realized she was already looking at him, smiling softly in that way she did. “What?”

She shook her head. “I think Santa may have had too much fun this year,” she whispered.

Grinning, he shrugged. “What can I say? Had to make Palmer Christmas special.”

Nodding, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. “And you did. Santa.”