Page 73 of A Very Addicted Christmas

Rose presses her fingers to her forehead. “Ben, you’re almost twice his size.”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt him. I’dneverhurt him.” His eyes flood, pain cinching his face. “I was just trying to help Nona. She was in trouble…and I had tunnel vision. Xander is the one who made sure no stranger came inside the house. You should be grateful for him.”

My phone buzzes as I say, “I’m thankful no one needed a trip to the hospital."

Rose lets out a strained breath. “You’re both so fucking lucky. If one piece of glass punctured you or your cousin?—”

“It didn’t,” Ben professes. “We’re both fine, Mom.” Sincerity bleeds through his eyes.

I check the text.

GARRISON

I hate your suspicions.

I send him a message.

Because they’re right?

Because she knows better. She’s grounded forever. Don’t worry.

I’m never worried.

I text, about to pocket my phone.

GARRISON

Whatever. Honestly, I had my suspicions about it too.

Sent you a work email btw. Not that important. Check at leisure.

I’ll check it soon, but not before I take care of Audrey. I glance over at our daughter. She’s slumped more against the table.

Rose follows my gaze. “Audrey?” She combs pieces of her damp hair out of her face. Likely, she showered after she puked earlier.

“Mmmh?”

“Time for bed," Rose says. "Can you stand?”

“Mmmhmm.” Audrey never opens her eyes or moves.

Ben puts away the Lysol. “She was just shouting.”

“Your sister used all her energy to combat us apparently,” Rose notes and spins to me. “She’s passing out.”

“I’ll take her upstairs, darling,” I tell my wife.

She nods. “I’ll check on her afterwards. I’m going to talk to Ben about his punishment.”

Ben lets out a groan. “I can clean the house.”

“We’ll start there, and you won’t be cleaning the yard alone. The girls and Xander will definitely be helping you tomorrow.”

“Okay, fine,” he breathes.

I lift Audrey effortlessly in my arms. Now a teenager, she’s no longer the baby I cradled at night and rocked to sleep. But I love her just the same.

While Rose speaks longer to Ben, I carry our daughter upstairs to her room. I gently rest her down on the queen-sized bed. She rolls over on her side, grabbing a frog-shaped pillow, an old gift from Winona. After I splay a throw blanket over her, I switch the lights off, about to leave.

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