Page 108 of Christmas Criminal

And now it's my turn to blush.

"Aw, Noelle!" Christina shouts.

I crinkle my nose. "Stop. I hate Christmas. I hate joy. Take it all back."

My mom and sister cackle as Nick grabs my hand, tugging me down into the couch next to him and throwing his arm around my shoulders. He lowers the bag of peas from his eye for only a moment as he leans forward to kiss my cheek, and I get an unobstructed view of the puffy, bruised eye underneath.

I must visibly grimace because Nick's mouth tugs to one side in a frown. "It's that bad?"

I nod, grabbing his hand to place the peas back where they were. "Just keep that there, okay?"

He groans. "Fuck. What am I going to tell my kids?"

"Tell them you got in a fight with a goose. Good precautionary tale–I've heard they're psycho."

He shakes his head, letting out a long breath. "I'll have to think of something before school starts up again. Although I don’t know, maybe it'll even be gone by then?"

I accidentally catch the gaze of my mom, whose eyebrows are raised as if to say,Yeah, you wish.

"Maybe it'll be gone by then," I repeat, even if it only gives him a few days of relief.

If it's not, I guess we'll be matching him with some drugstore cover up.

He nods, relaxing further into the couch as a car door shuts somewhere outside.

"Must be Hank," my mom says, dropping the wrapping paper in her hand and rushing off to greet him.

I catch Christina's eye, and she wiggles her eyebrows at me.

"You make that face now, but might I remind you you're sharing a wall with them tonight."

"Oh, Noelle!" She grabs the closest bit of wrapping paper and chucks it at me, but instead it brushes over Nick's chest and lands on the other side of us.

"Hey! I'm broken!"

I snort. "Two minutes ago, you insisted youweren't."

"Well, I'm broken now. Take pity on me. I think a kiss will make it better."

Christina rolls her eyes as she reaches for more of the containers on the coffee table. "Definitely not broken."

Hank and my mom enter the living room a minute later. He's abandoned the hat and the beard, but he still has his red velvet jacket and matching pants on. He smiles when he sees us. "Got the girls back home in one piece. I'll pick up Harriet tomorrow and bring her back for her car." He turns to Nick and me. "You kids ready to go? Want me to take you to pick up your car, or you want to go straight home?"

I look at Nick for an answer. "Home," he says, and turns to me. "If you don't mind driving me over tomorrow to pick it up?"

"Fine by me," I say, as we gather up the bags my mom separated for us. We leave with a round of hugs and kisses and well wishes for Nick, and when we fall into Hank's cruiser, I get two matching grins in the rearview mirror.

"In your rightful place, huh?" Nick asks, as I shoot him a glare.

"I've done my time," I tell him. "You, sir, have not."

He glances sideways at Hank. "Yeah, don't tell him that."

Hank only shakes his head as he pulls out of the driveway and heads toward Nick's. "It's Christmas, and I'm not about to come between two good people who happen to make bad decisions on occasion." He turns onto the main street. "But if I catch either of you throwing eggs again, it won't be the same story, you hear?"

I nod. "I hear."

"I hear," Nick repeats.

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