Page 53 of Christmas Criminal

I pause, my sandwich halfway to my mouth. "Her sister is moving back here?"

I don't recall Noelle telling me this, and something tells me it's not the sort of thing she'd keep under wraps. It seems like the sort of thing she'd be screaming about.

Hank nods, taking a bite of his wrap. "Christina got a job closer to home. She was always a little townie. Homecoming queen in high school, always participated in the play and the parade and all the town stuff. As much as Noelle hates this town, Christina misses it."

I nod, watching Noelle from the corner of my eye. "Does she know that?"

Hank shrugs. "I would guess so. The two of them live together."

I lick my lips. "Yeah, I don't think Noelle knows."

His brow furrows as he rests his sandwich on the table in front of him, eyeing me. "No?"

I shake my head. "I know I don't know her all that well, but I think she'd be upset."

Hank lets out a long breath. "Well, that's not going to go over very well, is it?"

"Should we tell her?"

He crinkles his nose. "No. I think if Christina hasn't told her yet, she has a good reason."

"Reason being to avoid Noelle going nuclear?"

Hank cringes. "I don't know." He pauses, shaking his head. "Next time I see Helen, I'll ask what I should do. Come to think of it, I'm not sureI'msupposed to know that Christina is moving back here, either."

I narrow my eyes. "You're notsupposedto?"

"I think she told me that in confidence, probably."

I stare at the older man, searching for meaning in his eyes, but he won't look at me.

And I get the distinct feeling that Hank is sleeping with Noelle's mom.

11

NOELLE

Saturday, December 14th

While handing out pamphlets for the sheriff's office is not my idea offun, I'm enjoying the way Nick's eyes are glued to me. Every time I turn around, there he is, watching me.

If he's trying to hide it, he's not doing very well.

I bend over a little further as I talk to people wandering by the booth. Give him a little treat to get him through the day in the hopes that he returns the favor later. Maybe he'll rest his hand on my neck like he did this morning. Grab my ass like he did last night. Shove his tongue down my throat and tug us close.

He was quiet during lunch, but I wouldn't be surprised if that was because of Hank, who seemed to be particularly talkative today. That, and I'm also trying my hardest to obscure our burgeoning connection. Because Hank will tell my mom, who will tell my sister, and before I know it I'll be completely surrounded by people making fun of me for it.

After lunch, I pick right back up where I left off. Smiling despite my annoyance with the situation. Hank and Nick talkin low voices behind me, every once in a while standing behind me to greet whoever it is I'm talking to. For Nick, they're former students and parents. For Hank, they're townspeople.

I don't reallyhateHank. He bothers me, and I hate thathe'sthe one who caught me throwing eggs at my dad's house, considering he's buddy-buddy with my mom, but I don'thatehim.

While Hank is pulled into another conversation off to the side, Nick stands to talk to someone he recognizes. And I'm left between the two of them, a fake smile plastered on my face, as I hand out yet another little pile of pamphlets.

And then Nick's hand lands in the small of my back. A simple touch that ultimately holds very little meaning, but it sends another little zip of heat down my spine. No one can see the way he's touching me, and judging from the genuine smile he's shooting at the people we're talking to, I can't help but wonder if he's even doing it on purpose.

Like maybe his hand is magnetically drawn to my back in the same way my vagina feels magnetically drawn to his dick.

I move a little closer, and his fingers move gently across my coat. I smell him all around me, that smoky sweet firewood scent that infiltrates my brain like a drug that makes me wantmore more more.

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