Main Bonus #85: Winter Break - A Very Ben & Harriet Morning (Patreon)

IMPORTANT: Please do not screenshot and post any part of this bonus scene to other sites or share with non-patrons. All of the Patreon content is exclusive to Patreon and for current patron's eyes only.  Thank you!! xoxo Krista & Becca

RESOURCES:  Check out this narrative timeline graphic to visually see when this bonus scene takes place.

SPOILER WARNING: There are spoilers from BURN BRIGHT in this bonus scene. We highly recommend reading the book for reading this bonus.

I NEVER WANT the holidays to end. The morning of Christmas Eve, the thought dawns on me like a warm ray of light I could bask beneath forever. The best part isn’t even the five-star breakfast spread of almond croissants, eggs Florentine, and vegan pancakes at the Cobalt Estate. It’s how Ben cuts me off a chunk of his pancake stack and insists I try it.

I reach out for his fork.

He retracts. For a blip, I wonder if he thinks I’m afraid of his germs, but that’d be silly, considering we heavily made out in the bathroom this morning. My lips still sting from the pressure of Ben’s kisses.

We’re squashed close in the corner booth of the breakfast nook. Since we’re not the earliest risers, some of his fam have already eaten, so we have no audience in the kitchen. It’s only us here.

Ben must see my brain circling toward confusion. Because his lips tic upward and he says, “Open your mouth, Fisher.”

“Open my…?”

“Your mouth,” Ben says confidently, his gaze steady and unwaveringly on mine.

Wow. That was…attractive. You are attracted to your boyfriend, Harriet, not shocking. I’m swathed in the best kind of heat. I press my lips together to keep a stupidly humongous smile from overtaking me.

These feelings—these are the kind I never knew before Ben. I never want them to go away.

I furrow my brows. He is so fucking hot with disheveled bedhead hair and no shirt, but it’s his smile on me, the way he stares at me like just who I am is beautiful, that runs my scowl away.

I shove the sleeves of my red silky pajama set up my arms and give him a look. “You’re going to feed me, Cobalt boy?”

“Attempting,” he says with a rising, slanted smile. “Bad idea?”

No. “Some say I bite.”

“Yeah?” He skims me. “Some say I love danger.”

“Not afraid to get bitten?”

“No.” His smile softens on me. “Definitely not by you, Friend.”

Good. I smooth my lips, then part them. I can’t believe I’m letting a guy feed me. I can’t believe I actually find this sensual and sexy, but it’s Ben.

Ben is making this seem like a stroke of the inner thigh.

Ben is making this feel like a hug.

Ben is making me love him all over again.

He slips the fork with the piece of pancake into my mouth, and our eyes stay locked together. I don’t consider whether he’s been this charming with another girl before. I don’t care if he has been in his lifetime. He’s my boyfriend now, and I want him all to myself.

You have him all to yourself.

I really never want the holidays to end. It’s how his smile crawls over his gorgeous features before I even savor the bite. Like he knows—truly, knows—that I will enjoy this vegan pancake.

And he’s right.

I love the fluffy inside and the crispy edges and the blueberry drizzle, but I love him about a million times more, I think. My cheeks burn the longer he stares with those sparkling baby blue eyes, and I nod a few times, trying to be solid and not a total puddle for him.

“Not bad,” I say after a sip of OJ. “Your taste buds haven’t led you astray.”

“Just my mind,” he jokes.

“I think I’ve heard this sad story,” I tease back.

The light in his eyes remains on me. “Did the guy go to Alaska?”

“Against Harriet Fisher’s advice, yep.”

Ben tsks with a headshake, twirling another pancake piece in syrup on his plate. “Big mistake. He should’ve known he was destined for failure.”

“Not sure he believed in destiny, Friend.”

“Good point.” He sweeps me up and down, blatantly checking me out now.

I stab a chunk of pancake off his plate, which tics up his lips, and I tell him, “You’re such a fucking jock.”

He laughs into a swig of water. “I’m not sure being attracted to you makes me a jock.” His left arm slides over the booth behind me, and he’s manspreading. It all rings as jock-like behavior, but it’s not like I was real friends with guys on the football team in high school. I’ve only recently been one-degree from any type of athlete.

Ben nestles a kiss in my hair while I chew another bite of pancake. It’s an easy, happy morning.

This isn’t the first time he’s joked about Alaska. It’s still fresh since he hasn’t been home for too long, but the banter isn’t heavy. He’s been more optimistic about dealing with his OCD now that he understands it’s what was tormenting him.

He’s said the uncertainty of what was going on was worse.

Really, the best part of the holidays is just this.

Being next to Ben.

Even when his dad calls him out to the living room to chat for a sec, it still feels like he’s beside me. Like he won’t ever truly leave. I lick syrup off my lips and replay the last few moments like a lovesick fool.

So dumb.

But if being super smart means never feeling this, then I would choose to be a dummy.

“Bonjour, ma belle-sœur.”

I startle at Eliot’s sudden closeness. Literally, he’s right next to me in the booth. I intake a sharp breath. Thank God I didn’t have food in my mouth or I’d be choking right now. “Dude,” I scowl at him.

He’s all grins. “Daydreaming about my brother?”

“No,” I say on instinct, my neck searing. Was I that apparent?

“Well, if it wasn’t about Ben, then who?”

“It’s only Ben,” I say, a little defensive.

“Good.” He leans backward, arm behind me on the booth. “I won’t have to kill anyone today.”

“I’d kill that guy too, you know.” I revolve backward to his entrance. “What’d you call me in French?” I swear he said belle. Does that mean beautiful or…?

Eliot is highly amused. “Sœur.”

That’s not jogging my sparse French vocabulary. “I never took French,” I remind him. “I know like five words, and that’s not one of them.”

“Sister,” he translates.

What? He’s deranged. “You called me beautiful sister?”

Eliot laughs so hard, he buckles forward. Okay, I’m wrong. I take my phone out to search the words, but Eliot steals my attention as he says, “Be ready in two hours.”

“What’s in two hours?” I stop typing.

“We’re going to the hockey rink. A casual pickup game.”

Right.

Eliot rented out the rink so all of his brothers can play with Ben this morning. It’s a way to help Ben love the sport again. “I’ll be ready by then,” I assure. “I wouldn’t miss it.” I’ll be there for Ben, I almost add, but I don’t lay it on too thick.

“Perfect.” He slides out. “What’s your shoe size? I’ll make sure the rink pulls the skates for you.”

Wait…am I playing hockey with them? “Um…” I can play. I mean, this is for Ben. The Ben who just made me blush like a schoolgirl over fucking pancakes. Casual hockey is easy hockey, right? Like peewee hockey? Novice hockey?

I hear clattering and realize Charlie is in the kitchen. Just wearing black drawstring pants. Eliot is also without a shirt and in gray sweatpants. It’s been clear since spending nights at their Hell’s Kitchen apartment that the Cobalt boys go shirtless in the morning. Not enough of Ben’s abs are in front of me.

I ignore Charlie, who’s at the marble island filling a glass with fresh-squeezed OJ from a pitcher.

“Audrey will want to be on your team,” Eliot says, reassuring me that his sister is playing too.

If Audrey is playing, especially with a recently sprained ankle, then I should definitely be on the ice in support of my boyfriend.

“I’m a size five,” I tell him.

He responds in French while slipping out of the booth. I’m about to ask for a translation, but Eliot snatches a piece of bacon and exits.

Charlie rests the pitcher beside the leftover eggs Florentine, and I have the urge to ask him for a language assist. Even knowing he probably won’t be helpful.

“Speak or stop staring at me, Harriet.”

I sigh. Whatever. No, not whatever. I glare at him. “Will you tell me what he said if I ask?”

“No. If you’re such a genius, learn French.” It’s a bored, routine response. He sips his OJ while facing me.

I hold my elbows and sit pin straight in the booth.

Irritation escalates on his face.

I narrow my eyes. “You’re the one being unhelpful, Boy Genius, so I don’t know why you look like I spit in your drink.”

“Because if Ben comes in here, he’s going to think I made you uncomfortable.”

It strikes me more that Charlie even cares what Ben thinks right now. I let go of my elbows, not wanting to kick dirt between Ben and Charlie when the dust has settled. “Spell the French words for me, at least. So I can use the internet to translate.” I return to my phone where I’d been partially typing out the other phrase Eliot said.

“Petits,” Charlie says.

“Spelling?”

“Tiny,” he suddenly translates. “Pieds. Feet.” He arches his brows. “Tiny feet.”

I’m whiplashed by his sudden purge of information. He’s about to leave, but I ask fast, “And what’s belle-sœur?”

Now he sighs. “Sister-in-law.”

I freeze. “I’m not—”

“It’s Eliot,” Charlie snaps. He’s assuming his brother called me that, and the assumption would be correct. “He’s going to teasingly treat you like you’re already married to Ben until you…”

“Until I’m what?” I stiffen. “Gone?”

His yellow-green eyes pierce me, and I go cold beneath them. “I’m not trying to cast you out.”

I ease a little, wanting to grip tighter to the pieces of me that believe I will always be welcome. Wanting to vanquish the parts that cruelly remind me I’ve never been wanted for this long anywhere.

“You two are babies to me,” Charlie adds. “The thought of Ben being married is a nail gun to my temple. And considering your past—”

“My past is my past.” I bristle. He hasn’t brought up me asking to blow him while we’ve been in these sacred, loving Cobalt walls, and I don’t want his parents to overhear my misdeeds. I don’t want to be kicked out.

“A past you haven’t dealt with.”

I’ve never had someone this involved in my business. Tension grips me, and now all I want is Ben. I hold my elbows again. “I didn’t realize I was on a timeline.”

Charlie clenches his jaw, thinking against what he’s going to say. “Forget I said anything, Girl Genius.” Then he’s out of the kitchen without another word.

I sigh into a groan and lean back against the booth. Charlie isn’t completely wrong. I need to deal with my fucked-up past, but I’m not going to ruin the best holiday I’ve ever had by trudging up stuff that’s hard to talk about.

I collect my dishes to clean in the sink. Last thing I want is to be a sloppy guest in this pristine mansion. Even if Ben’s mom has assured me not to worry about cleaning up, I just can’t physically leave a trail of Harriet behind.

It’s only later, when we’re at the hockey rink, that today’s plans start really hitting me.

What the hell did I agree to? Really, what was I thinking?

Living at the Cobalt Estate over winter break has obviously fucked with my head. I’ve ingested some false sense of confidence circulating through their dust-free air vents. Or I was so high on Ben Cobalt that I didn’t think this over enough.

Because I am not suddenly Elsa on Ice. I am Bambi on Ice, if that. So why, why, why did I tell Eliot I’d join this casual pickup hockey game with them?

Casual???? This is not that casual—okay, to me, casual doesn’t include full hockey gear. To be fair, I’m not even sure if Audrey handed me full gear, but I was picturing the little kids from Mighty Ducks on a frozen lake just casually skating around.

They weren’t wearing padding…that I can remember. Padding either means a fall is imminent or I might get hit by a puck.

I appreciate the helmet though.

I slip a tiny glance to Audrey at my left in the co-ed locker room. She straps on elbow pads like she’s clasping on a piece of jewelry for the day. Like this isn’t out of her element. Totally ordinary. I stare at the shin guards she handed me and want to puke a little.

Fear sucks, but is it so bad knowing my own limits? I don’t love ice skating, and now I need to ice skate and hold a hockey stick?

“Have you played with them before?” I ask.

“A few times,” Audrey says. “It’s not so hard if you stay near Ben. He’ll make sure the puck doesn’t fly at you.”

Okay.

Okay.

Stay near Ben. I mentally jot down the note like I’m about to ace a hockey exam. I ask her about the rules of the game, realizing I know very little about the sport, but the commotion from the other side of the locker room steals our attention.

Someone put on a French song I’ve heard all break at the Cobalt Estate. Like hype music, Ben, Beckett, Tom, and Eliot all sing along while Charlie just watches with a slight eye roll. Their grins infect Audrey, especially as Tom and Eliot head-bang to the beat and manage to get Ben to join in.

It’s not Green Day or anything, but it is catchy electronic music.

Audrey leans into me. “Sentier de glorie,” she whispers while they sing it. “Path of glory.”

“Sentier de glorie,” I repeat without much thought. Today, more than any other day, has made me really want to not just know French but to master it.

“Glorie,” Audrey repeats in a beautiful lilt. She’s clearly helping me with the pronunciation. I say the word again, and I feel more encouraged to sing along with Ben’s sister so I can better learn.

We sing together, and I think her brothers are clapping to the beat. But the next time I look over at Ben, he’s pointing at me, then applauding.

They’re applauding me.

For trying to speak French.

Fuck.

Tears burn my eyes a little at this overwhelming feeling. Because I don’t think I’m singing well, but they don’t even give a shit that I might be butchering the French language. They like that I’m participating.

When the song ends, all I can think is… what’s going to happen when I freak out on the ice?

And so Winter Break with the Cobalt Empire continues! More will be coming in November before you know it. And yes, you will be seeing more of Christmas Eve morning with the Cobalts and hockey! It's not over yet!

If you're curious, the song the Cobalts were singing is called "Vois sur ton chemin" by BENNETT. We hope you all enjoyed more Ben, Harriet, and the Cobalt fam.

xoxo Krista & Becca

 “Winter Break: A Very Ben & Harriet Morning," Copyright © 2025 by K.B. Ritchie