Page 69 of A Very Addicted Christmas

“I don’t want you to do that,” Ben refutes quietly. “Just tell them the truth.”

They go silent now, and I imagine they’re mouthing to each other. And while Rose and I face the island, a mop of wet orange-red hair slowly appears along with startled blue eyes. Audrey immediately dives back behind the island.

“Ben.They’re right there.”

“Shit,” Ben curses and stands up, a dustpan in hand. Audrey rises next, holding a wet rag. I study them quickly. No clear physical wounds, but Audrey is slightly unsteady on her feet. She's dressed in pink silky pants and a buttoned pajama top. Ben is in a Dalton Hockey sweatshirt, and flour coats his brown hair.

“Gremlins,” Rose scolds.

“Mauvaise soirée, mes enfants,” I say with the raise of my brows.Bad evening, my children.

Audrey rests the back of her hand to her forehead. “I’m feeling faint.”

“I’m sure you are,” Rose says icily.

“Hi, Mom. Dad,” Ben says with a warm smile. “Welcome home?”

“The home you destroyed.” Rose tilts her head to me. “What do you say, Connor? Has it been a welcome homecoming?”

“More inhospitable?—”

“I can explain,” Ben professes. “We were going to clean this up before you came home. We promise.”

“So you were afraid of being caught?” I question.

“Yes,” Audrey claims, right as Ben says, “No.” He adds, “I didn’t set out to destroy the house, and I felt badly you had to come home to this.” He locks his gaze with mine. “But that’s not the answer you wanted to hear, is it?”

“It is, because it’s yours.”

Ben eases.

He knows he gave me an altruistic reason. It’s not self-serving, but there is no cost to listening to his heart in this situation. I admire this about him, but there’ve been times where I do fear for my son—the one who’d rush into wildfire where a thousand consequences lie before taking a clear path that benefits him.

Ben scrapes a hand through his flour-dusted hair. “I’m not scared of being caught, but I am sorry about the house.”

I lean a hip against the doorway. “Were you also planning to clean the broken table?”

Rose hasn’t unthreaded her arms. “Or how about thedestructionleft in the backyard? It looks like a battle zone.”

“We were under siege, Mother,” Audrey says like she rehearsed this part.

“And which of your friends aided in the destructioninsidethe house?” Rose asks, perching her hands on her hips.

Ben pales and shifts his weight. “They didn’t …only family came into the house.”

Rose squints at him.

“I’m telling the truth, Mom.”

“’Tis true,” Audrey says quietly, her fingers to her lips. Her gaze drifts to the left, and I study her longer. She teeters on her feet, and more concern tightens my muscles. Ben steadies his sister with a hand to her shoulder.

Rose skims her up and down. Worry bathes her yellow-green eyes. “How much did you drink?”

“What do you mean?” Audrey plants her hands on the island counter. “I didn’t drink anything.”

Ben looks between us. “They already know, Audrey. There’s no point.”

Audrey frowns. “Already knows what?”

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