rolls her eyes as if the idea was absurd. “Chris works tirelessly for this organization as he does for others. It’s almost as if Gloria was out to ruin the poor guy.” She blinks back. “You know, come to think of it, there are no checks and balances outside of Chris. I mean, Gloria could have been right. He could have been robbing the organization blind and we’d never know it. I supposed that’s something I’ll have to look into. And if it’s true, I’ll have to report it right away. If something like that got out, it could ruin the trust we’ve built with the community.”
“That would be terrible,” I say, secretly hoping I’ll have a chance to run into the very next suspect on my list—one who looks incredibly guilty all of a sudden, Chris Holiday. “So how will you be spending your holidays this year, Candy? A big family gathering?”
Her entire body sags a moment. “I’m afraid not. My mom is on the West Coast, and I hate holiday travel. We’ll get together after the new year. And my dad passed away when I was thirteen. Cormack and Cressida invited me to have dinner with them.”
I grimace for a moment at the thought. “I’m sure you’ll have a good time.”
“I’ll have the best time.” She gives a sly wink. “And before I forget, the Evergreen Manor is graciously allowing the Christmas Angels to host one more event the night before Christmas Eve. You must join us.”
“Wonderful. I’ll be there.” And I bet all of my favorite suspects will be, too. “I’ll contact Naomi about donating some of my desserts. It’s the least I can do.”
“Much appreciated!” she shouts as we split ways.
We head out toward the bourgeoning crowd as Mayor Nash gives a warm speech about Christmas in Honey Hollow, and just as the crowd begins counting down from ten, I spot Everett and our eyes latch.
A blooming grin grows on his face—such a rarity that I can hardly believe it.
I make a beeline his way and fall right into his arms.
“Lemon.” He lands a kiss to my lips just as the crowd reaches one, and the tree lights up all of Honey Hollow as if it were noon. Every bough of that magical evergreen is wrapped in soft white twinkle lights and shiny red bows. The ornaments wink in and out as the wind blows through the town square ever so gently. “I’ve got a surprise.” He holds up his left hand and pulls back his sleeve to show his muscular arm underneath without its protective shell.
“You got your cast off!” I give a little hop and he pulls me in close once again, and his spiced cologne ignites my senses along with something foreign and sweet layered underneath.
“That’s right. I’m one hundred percent healed.”
“And I’m one hundred percent sure I’m going to kiss every inch of that arm once we get back home.” I pull back a notch. “That is, if I have permission to have a private exchange with the judge.” I give a few innocent blinks.
“You have carte blanche access to this judge, Lemon. And I would consider it a crime if you kept those lips away from mine.”
“Good, because I have far more than my lips to offer up. Have I mentioned that I’m in the middle of a hormonal tsunami?”
“In that case, I’ll do my best to ride the wave.”
“You are a daredevil.” I walk my fingers up his chest and he catches them and brings them to his lips. “Be prepared to work our way through that naughty pamphlet, Judge Baxter.”
His chest bucks with a silent laugh. “Be prepared to add a couple of addendums to it.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a few tricks up your sexy sleeve.”
His brows twitch. “Sounds like you know me well.” He leans back. “Before I forget, I just spoke to Evie. She said the Ski Club wants to have a few rooms at the lodge for their upcoming break, so I told her they could have at it.”
“The Ski Club?” I flatline. “Is that what she’s calling it? She asked me a few days ago and said it was Dash, those boys she’s seeing in tandem, and sixteen—or more like one hundred—of her closest friends.”
Everett’s jaw redefines itself as he glances to the lively crowd as the carolers croon at top volume.
“I think I was just had,” he grunts. “Don’t worry, Lemon. Nobody from Honey Hollow High will be using the lodge on my watch