Page 109 of Bragg's Christmas

It’s truth or punch time. Finally. ~ Message from Miller to the Bragg brothers

Damon

I’m laying on the couch with a whisky bottle in my hand when my front door opens.

“Skye, are you home?”

I stagger to my feet. Shit. How much have I had to drink?

“He’s a mess.”

“Good thing Mom has Skye.”

I narrow my eyes until my twin brothers Riley and Brody come into focus. “Why is Skye with Mom?”

“Duh.”

“Because you’re a mess.”

Since they’re not wrong, I glare at them. “What are you two doing here?”

“I’m here, too.” Elder slams a bottle of vodka on the coffee table. “It’s truth or punch time.”

Truth or punch? Nope. No way. I’m not drinking shots all night. And there’s no fucking way I’ll allow my brothers to punch me if I don’t tell them the truth when they ask their stupid questions. The truth is none of their business.

“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not playing some childish game.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell us what crawled up your ass?”

“Nothing crawled up my ass.”

Miller stands next to his twin and crosses his arms over his chest and grunts, “No?”

Oh goodie. The gang’s all here. “I’m surprised you didn’t rope Peace into joining you.”

Elder looks at Miller and raises an eyebrow. Miller shrugs in response. They’re doing their secret twin communication thing, but I’m not going to ask them about it. For once, I don’t care. All I want is for them to go away.

I collapse on the sofa and rub a hand over my face. I don’t want my brothers here to watch my humiliation. I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been. I’m the oldest. I’m supposed to know better than to be fooled by a woman.

“It’s time,” Brody sings as he sets several shot glasses down on the coffee table in front of me.

Elder opens the bottle and fills the glasses. He offers one to me. I ignore him.

“I can stand here all day.”

“What about Harmony and Robin?” He hates being away from his baby girl and wife.

He frowns. “They’re busy.”

I open my mouth but Riley cuts me off, “All of the women are busy before you ask.”

“And you decided to come bother me?”

Brody chuckles. “Yeah, sure. Let’s pretend that’s why we’re here.”

Riley elbows him. “We’re not pretending. We’re here because he’s a mess.”

Would they stop saying I’m a mess? I know I am, but how did they know? I’ve been sitting in my home minding my own business while enjoying some quality time with a whisky bottle. How the hell did they figure out I’m torn apart inside?

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