Page 66 of The Naughty List Agreement

But could he? Could he challenge the magical contract?

“Is something up? You look tense?”

“Nah.”

Cora raised both eyebrows at him.

He didn’t blame her. Nah wasn’t an answer and it wasn’t the truth. In fact, his dad would have said it wasn’t a word. “I’m just letting all my food digest. These sandwiches are really good. Your recipe?”

“Mine but based on classic New York deli sandwiches. Sarah introduced me to them.”

“Tell me more about her,” Nick said. Cora softened whenever she mentioned her.

“She was our neighbor when I was a tween. One afternoon, when I got home from school her door was open and she was standing there with her walker. Told me she needed me to reach something for her. It was flour. She wanted to bake cookies but her arthritis made it hard for her to mix the batter. After that, I stopped in every day to check on her.”

“She needed you.”

Cora shrugged. “Maybe. I definitely needed her, though at first I didn’t realize it. She made it easy for me to help her and I liked doing it. She asked for nothing from me really but my time. It meant a lot.”

“Jack was like that for me. One day he invited me to tag along with him in the forest. I was struggling with the pressure from my dad to step into his shoes. Jack and I used to go for long walks and he’d point out how alive the icy landscape was. I always just saw snow and missed the life nestled in it.”

“Wow, I didn’t picture him as that mature.”

Nick cracked a laugh. “Not all the time. But when it’s needed, he steps up. Ready to head back?”

“I want to stop by the intention tree and see how that’s going. If it’s not popular, I’m going to try another craft station.”

Nick dumped their trash before following her to the indoor tree which reached halfway to the ceiling in the event space. There were benches and Winter Wonderland merchandise carts around it as well as hot chocolate and cookie vendors.

The tables with the red and green construction paper were full of people. There were gold, white, and black gel pens for writing and each one was being used. Nick wasn’t surprised in the least. Cora walked closer, leaning over to read some of the intentions that were being written.

A child tugged on his sleeve and Nick stooped down to her level. It was Chrissie Palmer, aged seven. “I’ve been very good this year.”

Some kids just knew who he truly was. Nick gave her a gentle smile. “I know you have. What would you like for Christmas?”

“A skateboard. Tim promised he’d teach me how if I got one,” she said with a gap-toothed smile. “Mom isn’t sure it’s safe.”

“We’ll have to make sure you have the right equipment, like a helmet and pads,” Nick said. Tim was Chrissie’s stepfather. He was a good man who was on the Nice List.

“Thank you,” she whispered, like they’d shared the greatest secret in the world.

Nick stood up as Chrissie went back to writing on her paper to find Cora staring at him.

One thing he hadn’t considered with her by his side was that she might notice interactions like this one—kids talking to him and asking for presents; adults who still held on to their own childlike sense of wonder.

The same sense of wonder had started to tinge the aura around Cora. It was almost as if she were experiencing it for the first time. He was worried about the repercussions for the Hearthvale and himself but really it was Cora who’d pay the biggest cost if he fucked this up.

“Looks like it’s working.”

“It is. Another good idea from you.”

“You don’t have to sound so pleased.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and a bolt of molten heat settled low in his body. “I hate that I didn’t think of these things.”

“I bet you’ll come up with something even better next year.”

“Oh, you can count on that,” she said.