Page 39 of Christmas Criminal

I pause, my brow crinkling. "Are you kidding me? I think you'd get a lot worse than community service for that."

She shrugs. "Honestly, I was trying to get a gauge onhow muchyou don't like her. Want me to egg her house? That's right in my wheelhouse." She pauses. "Although you'd probably end up stuck with me for another installment of community service."

She eyes me like she's baiting me to react.

"As much as I love the torture, maybe it's best to refrain."

She nods, her eyes narrowed. "Well, you let me know."

"I'll keep your number in my phone in case I ever need a professional egg-thrower."

She grins. "I always knew I had a higher calling."

She holds my gaze for a moment, until her sister taps her shoulder. "Noelle! Dad!"

Christina is off like a rocket, scooting along across the pavement as her mom follows after her.

Noelle's face instantly drains of all color. She glances over her shoulder to where a man stands between two teenage girls, a wide smile on his face as Christina scoots toward him and envelops him in a big hug. Helen stands a respectful distance away, opting to nod while greeting the two teenagers next to him.

When I turn back to Noelle, she's...

Gone.

My brow crinkles, wondering where she could have disappeared to in the two seconds I was focused on her family.

And then I notice the edge of the table cloth is being tugged strangely. As if someone slipped underneath it and is doing their best to hide.

"Nicky? Those hot chocolates?"

I grab one of my mathletes as they zip past, and gesture to Delia. He gives me a firm nod, and while Delia's focused on the crowd around her, I take the opportunity to slip underneath the table, readjusting the table cloth as I come face to face with Noelle.

Her eyes are wide as I take a seat on the pavement across from her, nearly knocking my head on one of the table's supporting bars. Her arms are wrapped around her knees, making her look small. I, on the other hand, feel like a giant as I try to fold my limbs in any sort of comfortable way.

"This ismyhiding spot," she tells me sternly.

"Well, this ismybooth," I remind her.

"It's your mathletes' booth."

I purse my lips. She has a point there.

"Noelle, can you please share your hiding spot with me until she goes away?"

As if on cue, Delia calls for me. "Nicky?" she asks, the confusion clear in her voice.

Noelle grins. "What's up with the 'Nicky' business?"

I shake my head and lower my voice when I speak. "She's one ofthoseparents. The kind that takes pride in being a thorn in your side because it'shelpingtheir child. She didn't help her daughter one bit. Only made the teachers dread her call. Hit on me endlessly, thinking it would get her daughter a better grade. And her daughter wassmart–all she needed was for her mom to get out of her way."

She nods. "Sounds like she deserves an egging."

"Noelle!"

She scooches closer, her smile still wide across her face. She smells like roses and chocolate, and it makes me want to move closer, to stick my nose right in the corner of her neck and breathe her in.

"Really, I'd be happy to extend my services," she says.

I pause, wondering how serious she is. "Alright, sure. Why don't you go egg her house?"

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