Page 77 of This Broken Heart

“Yes, we did. And I thought we agreed that you’d stay.” He starts stacking more cookies on Santa’s plate. “Just spend the night and go in the morning. It’s too late to be on the roads.”

“You’re being silly.”

He pauses, looking at me with exasperation. “You’re being silly.”

I grab my purse, giving him a lopsided grin. “Maybe. But unfortunately for you, you’re not the boss of me.”

He comes closer, gently grabbing the lapels of my coat. “I’m not?”

He tugs me into his body and all my snappy comebacks dry up. I peer up at him and he leans down to kiss me. It’s a breath-stealing kiss, full of promise. When he pulls back, we’re both breathing harder, and my lipstick is smudged on his lower lip. I reach up and drag my thumb along his lip, feeling the rough scruff of his beard.

“Do you really need to go?”

I try to picture my mom spending Christmas Eve alone. Waking up by herself. “Yes.”

He sighs, pulling me in tight, pressing his lips to the top of my head. “Text me when you get there.”

“Okay.”

52.

Josh

Nothing says Christmas like having a four-year-old body slam your head while you sleep.

I groggily come to, watching Trace bounce on the bed, shouting. “It’s Christmas morning! Up and Adam!”

Maven plants a wet kiss on my ear, whispering loudly. “Chrissum.”

I roll to my side, glancing at the alarm clock.

It’s seven. Last year, Trace was up at five, so this feels like a Christmas miracle.

Trace runs a quick circle around my body before leaping onto the floor. “I’ll go get Erin.”

“No, bud.” I climb to my feet. “She’s not here.”

But he’s already gone.

He comes barreling back in seconds later. “Where’s Erin?”

“She went home, Trace.”

A look of pure confusion contorts his little features. “So, sheishere?”

“Not our home, her home.”

“Erin has another house?”

“And a mom and everything.”

That was the wrong thing to say, because his face screws up and then he’s wailing. “We have to keep her here. Why’d you make her leave?”

I squat down beside him, putting my hands on his shoulders. “I didn’t make her leave, bud.” His expression is heartbreakingly sad. “I gave her the day off.”

“Day off from what?”

“From work.”