“Appreciate it.” Sam pulled him in for a quick hug, then stood back up to his full height.
Brody skipped off to class like nothing weird had happened at all. Frazzled, confused, and hot for no reason at all, I made to follow him.
A rough, warm hand grabbed mine before I could get away. I looked back to find Sam still standing there, green eyes blazing. “He’s a good kid. Just . . . just a bit dramatic.”
I nodded, having already sensed that. “I really need him to stop calling me a murderer, though.”
Sam’s face split with an amused grin. “Too many video games, I’m afraid.”
“Threatening Christmas?” I hoped my expression was censuring. But it was hard to know what face I was making because Sam’s hand was still wrapped around mine and he’d taken a step closer. “That’s not very nice.”
He shrugged and pointed to the pocket logo. “He thinks I know Santa because my company does all the lights in town. I think Sarah told him I was Santa’s helper one year and he thought that meant I’m a Christmas Elf . . . so here we are. He does tend to listen to me really well around the holidays, though.”
A laugh bubbled out of me. “A Christmas Elf?”
“Don’t I look the part?”
No. No, he did not. Unless Christmas Elves were always six-three, sexy as sin, and . . . and evil.
I pulled my hand away and started back down the hallway. “You do,” I said over my shoulder. “Exactly how I imagine they all look at the North Pole.”
“I meant what I told Brody,” he said, unfazed by my underhanded comment. This time I didn’t turn around. “I want to take you out on a date.”
His voice chased after me as I hurried back into the absolute chaos of first grade, the door closing behind me with a satisfied snick. My heart was tripping over itself as I focused on the wide-eyed, slightly traumatized room full of first graders. Sam Autry was in the building, possibly right outside my door, spewing bullshit about dates and kissing and . . .
At least one mystery had been solved. I now knew who was responsible for the Christmas extravaganza on every corner and rooftop in this whole damn town.
“Brody has something he’d like to say to you,” I announced loudly, calling for their attention. “Don’t you, Brody?”
His whole face wrinkled in concentration, then he sighed so big both his shoulders lifted and fell. “Fine.” Not a great introduction, but I gestured for him to keep going. “Apparently, she’s not a murderer.” Another big sigh. “Apparently she’s my uncle’s girlfriend, and he wants to kiss her.”
The class erupted in giggles. The sweet sounds should have been the cutest thing I’d ever heard, but I couldn’t get my face to cooperate. It was frozen in horror as I stared at this holy terror of a child.
I watched a girl with beaded braids lean over and repeat “he wants to kiss her” to her friend in something that could never be called a whisper. The kids’ giddy laughter started all over again.
My cheeks flamed with heat, but I was the teacher, the adult, the only person in the room who could wrangle this day back under control, or at least settle them down before we had to walk to Library in ten-ish minutes.
“Okay, wild things, settle down. Nobody is kissing anybody.” A red-haired little boy with the most freckles I’d ever seen fell on the ground, he was laughing so hard. A giggle bubbled up in my chest. I turned to Brody. “What have you done?”
He leaned forward. “Nobody’s talking about a murderer, are they?”
“You’re a genius, an evil genius.” He pushed his glasses up his button nose and grinned at me as if I’d just given him the highest compliment.
“You’re welcome.”
I could see he was wise beyond his years—not in a good way, but maybe in a useful way. “If we walk to the library, are we going to run into your uncle again?”
His face scrunched up once more as he thought about it. “Not if we go the long way.”
“Is the long way going to get me into trouble?”
“Not bad trouble.”
I nibbled my lip and wondered if he even knew the answer to the question I was asking. “Like, are they going to call parents and ask me not to come back?”
“Use the thing,” he said, pointing at the walkie-talkie still sitting on my desk. “Just tell Ms. Monika you’re taking us on a walk.” When all I did was narrow my eyes, he laughed a high-pitched sound and wiggled his body like only a six-year-old boy could. “It’s safe. I promise.”
Why was I trusting Brody Perkins immediately after he’d told the entire class I was a murderer? Because I was desperate. And flustered. And still very hot.
