Page 6 of The Holiday Clause

Sixteen YearsEarlier

The first Christmasafter Mom passed, Dad went overboard with gifts, but none of them captured the holiday spirit. An impenetrable, dull haze had lingered over all of them since the funeral. Everything felt hollow without Mom.

It had been forty-one days, six hours, and roughly thirty minutes since their world shattered. The shock lingered, but they each performed a masterful job of hiding their grief.

Greyson spent most days in the shed, building God knew what out of wood he’d salvaged from last winter’s pile. Soren self-medicated by drinking in the woods with friends. And Logan stayed up all night playing video games.

Their father didn’t want to face reality, so he drowned out the emotional fallout with gifts, games, and investments in youth clubs and sports. They all feared being sent away to boarding school, so they suppressed any grief that threatened to escape.

Once all the overcompensating presents had been opened that Christmas, none significant enough to penetrate the numbness left in their mother’s absence, they drifted off to various parts of the house.

It didn’t feel like Christmas. There was no tree, no cookies, no Mom.

Their father had left the house before dinner, claiming he had business to handle. The three of them returned to the den and sprawled out on the furniture, silent but together. At least they had their newest distraction to keep them occupied—state-of-the-art laptops.

Logan could use his for gaming. Soren would likely use his for school. And Greyson, well, he didn’t really see much use for technology until…

A breathy, female moan broke the silence.

Logan’s head snapped up in confusion, and he frowned. Another soft sigh keened through the silence, and Logan’s eyes widened. “What is that?”

“It’s not me.” Soren slammed his laptop shut and leaned over to peer at Greyson’s screen. “Holy shit.”

Logan rushed to stand behind the couch. His eyes—and other things—bulged at the sight of long legs and pink lips. “Whoa! Is that allowed?”

Soren shoved Logan’s head out of the way and moved closer to get a better look at Greyson’s screen. “How’d you find that?”

“It’s called a search engine.”

More moans filled the room, now accompanied by staccato masculine grunts. Greyson lowered the volume as they all stared in awe at the beautiful woman getting railed on the screen.

Nothing could have prepared Logan for what the male actor did to the female actress next. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

Greyson laughed. “She seems to be begging for it.”

Logan’s jaw unhinged. “But... what’s he doing?”

“What do you think he’s doing?”

As the youngest, Logan knew less than his brothers but still more than most boys his age. He wasn’t disgusted by what they were watching. He just didn’t expect it to look so... aggressive. His stomach tightened, and his cheeks heated when the man on the screen pulled the woman’s hair.

Was this what moms and dads did?

What if their mom was watching them now—watching them watch what they were watching? “Turn it off.”

“No.”

“Grey, I’m gonna tell.”

“No, you’re not.”

“If you don’t want to watch, go do something else.” Soren edged closer to the screen.

Grey shoved him. “Back up.”

Soren hardly moved, his jaw unhinging at the sexual display on the screen. “Look how her tits bounce!”

“You guys are gross,” Logan’s interest gave way to shame. He was curious, but guilt kept his eyes partially averted. “That chick’s older than my teacher.”