'Twas the Night by Sandra Hill

Author:Sandra Hill [Hill, Sandra]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9781611940022
Publisher: Bell Bridge Books
Published: 2010-10-18T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

KEVIN

Wednesday Afternoon, Two Days ’til Christmas Eve

Colonel Morgan shook himself like a dog as he climbed the bus steps. “The store’s closed due to weather,” he announced in a commanding military voice that brooked no argument.

Of course, he got plenty of argument.

Straight from Callie, Kevin noted. The woman would fight a dog over a bone. She was a pain in the ass that way. A cute pain, but a pain nonetheless.

“Let’s break in,” she offered. “We’ll leave money. Who’d convict us?”

Kevin was quickly learning that the woman with the bed-me wild hair owned a larcenous little heart. First she jumped on a subpoena, then she’d pick-pocketed him, now she wanted to break and enter.

Funny enough, she got a rousing answer to that. All of these philanthropist Santas considered this a good idea.

Kevin made his way to the front of the bus and turned to the crew. “This isn’t a smart idea. Really. We need a better plan.”

“We need to make those kids happy,” Meg and Maggie said simultaneously.

“We’ll pay them back,” Mrs. Smith—who’d faint if she ever got a parking ticket—agreed.

“Let’s storm the store!” Morey cried, pounding his fist on the seat in front of him. “We’ll get toys and more!”

It became a battle cry. “Let’s storm the store! We’ll get toys and more! Let’s storm the store! We’ll get toys and more!”

Kevin stalked to the back of the bus, and confronted his supposed friends, who were standing oh-so-casually and smirking too much for his liking.

“Are we going to stop these fanatics from breaking the law, or what?” he asked, crossing his arms.

Stan lifted his hands helplessly. “I learned a long time ago not to mess with the Snowdon seniors.”

Sam nodded toward the front. “Don’t look now, but your little hellion is raiding your backpack.”

Kevin whirled in time to catch Callie lifting out handcuffs with a snort, and tossing them down. She then continued digging in his pack.

“Hey!” he yelled. “Get out of there!”

“The man fancies himself some kind of James Bond,” Callie informed the group. “He’s gotta have some lock picks in here somewhere.”

Kevin stormed up the aisle. “Give me that.”

Callie ignored him. “How many pairs of handcuffs does one private investigator need?” she asked, her tone dripping with disgust.

“He’s got more than one pair in there?” Slick asked, coming up behind him.

“I have to take in more than one perp, occasionally,” Kevin tried to explain to the suddenly interested crowd. “Give me my backpack, woman.”

“Oh, and look here!” Callie said, pulling out a box of condoms. A chorus of “ooohs” reverberated throughout the bus.

“Give me those,” Kevin demanded, trying to grab for the box. Callie evaded him. “What, hotshot, planning on scoring big in Maine?”

“It’s a gag gift for George’s bachelor party,” Kevin said, indignant.

“And look,” Callie said. “Glow in the dark! That should be fun.”

“Oh,” Morey said. “Can I borrow a couple of those?”

“To use on what, Morey?” Mrs. Smith asked. “Your breakfast banana?”

“I’ll have you know—”

“Stop!” Kevin said, finally managing to wrestle the condoms and

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