Page 77 of Christmas Criminal

Her eyes narrow. "I can't tell whether that means you're going to fuck me again and call it community service or if you have something truly torturous in store for me."

I press my lips together, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh no." She huffs, crossing her arms. "What are we doing?"

I swallow. "We're going to round up all the candy buckets we made and distribute them to the high schoolers when they arrive. Make sure everybody gets one."

Her nose crinkles. "You know, I've really been looking forward to clapping erasers in the schoolyard, and I'm starting to worry that's not going to happen."

"It's your last couple of hours, and handing out the buckets isn't going to take very long. Probably half an hour, if I had to guess, and afterward we can go ahead and enjoy the parade."

She huffs, taking a step toward me and winding her arms around my middle. "Torturing me is your favorite pastime, isn't it?"

I nod, brushing her hair out of the way so I can kiss her forehead. "But afterward we get to enjoy the parade," I say, in a mocking excited tone.

She rolls her eyes. "The harder you work at your Cindy-Lou Who act, the harder I work at Grinching."

I grin at her, holding her cheeks in my hands. "And you do it so well."

I grab her hips and twist her toward the door, smacking her ass as she walks. She jumps with the contact and turns back to me, her fingers digging into my stomach as she presses herself against me in a way that has mereallywanting to repeat what we just did in my entryway.

"Are you sure you don't want to play hooky?" she asks, her lips against my throat.

I level her with a look. "I actually do want to go to the parade. And you get a few free hours out of it. I think that's worth it, don't you?"

She lets out a long breath. "For you, I will go."

I kiss her, and when I pull away, she follows, asking for more.

"Maybe I'll even get you to smile a little, too. For me."

She grumbles, rolling her eyes as I push her toward the door. "No. That, I refuse to do."

The high schoolis packed by the time we get there, and I walk through the halls with Noelle's hand in mine, greeting kids as they weave around us or shout at me.

I've cemented myself as one of the cooler teachers. Not as cool as Mrs. Larson, who sets things on fire in science class every other day–I have her to thank for Robbie's experiment–but I'm not one of the ones who get dirty looks or pointed whispers when I pass by.

And I will admit, Noelle looksmildlyoverwhelmed as we wind through the halls to the garage and we're suddenly bombarded with high schoolers. I tuck her under my arm, gaining a few curious looks from kids who thankfully do not choose this moment to ask when Mr. Monroe stopped being single.

The buckets are stacked along the wall where the float used to be, and we–along with a few kids that I recruit along the way–drag them out the wide doors to the parking lot where the parade starts.

The town fire trucks are parked outside, as well as Hank, who will be leading the parade. Further down into the parking lot, an array of parade participants wait. Decorated Jeeps, a number of dads on motorcycles, the band and the choir and a local dance team among them.

And as start time draws nearer, kids flock to the float in droves. One of us hands a bucket of candy to each costumed kid as they slowly climb up. Half of them can't see us because of various ridiculous costumes that obscure their faces, and we have to guide their hands to the handles of the buckets.

Halfway through, I hear a kid's voice who sounds vaguely familiar, but I can't quite place it.

"Yo, Mr. Monroe's got himself a girlfriend!"

My eyes snap up to Noelle's as she looks warily toward the float, searching for the voice.

"How'd you manage that, dude? She's way out of your league!"

I can't help the grin that spreads across my face as Noelle's face dissolves into laughter.

I turn to the float, pointing in the general vicinity of where the voice came from. "Whoever that was," I say, hoping I'm actually drawing their attention, "yes. But also, don't let me catch you looking at her."

Several kids burst out laughing as I turn back to Noelle, but I have no idea who actually spoke.

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