Page 124 of Falling for the Grinchy Bad Boy

Getting Pat onto the gurney and into the ambulance took some careful maneuvering, given his size and the bowl full of jelly that was his stomach. Once we had him settled inside, Matt began his assessment while I helped get Pat situated comfortably.

“Okay, we need to get these pants off, St. Nick, so I can get a better look at that knee,” Matt said with his usual bedside manner that managed to be both professional and reassuring. “I’ll close the doors, so no one sees your jingle bells.”

Pat managed a weak laugh at that, which was a good sign. If he could still appreciate humor, his pain level was probably manageable.

I stepped back while Matt worked, but as I watched him carefully cut away the red velvet pants to expose Pat’s swollen knee, a terrible realization hit me.

Santa’s Workshop was the crown jewel of the entire festival. Joy had spent weeks planning every detail—decorating dozens of stockings for the children, coordinating toy donations from local businesses, creating the magical experience that would be the highlight of the evening for every family in attendance.

All that work, all her careful planning, and it was going to be for nothing. Without Santa, the workshop was just an empty building with some decorations. The children who had been waiting in line, the families who had built their evening around this experience, were all going to be devastated.

I thought about Joy’s face when she realized her big finale was ruined. She’d been under so much stress lately, dealing with the festival logistics and our relationship drama and all the pressure she’d put on herself to make everything perfect. This would break her heart.

Unless…

I looked at the Santa costume Matt had just removed from Pat’s legs, then at the red jacket. I knew where a complete costume was.

“Matt, get Pat to the ER. Make sure they take good care of him.”

“Where are you going?” Matt asked, but I was already reaching for the Santa costume.

“I’ll get this back to you,” I told Pat.

“Cooper, what are you doing?” Matt asked with confusion.

“Saving Christmas,” I replied. “Joy worked too hard on this festival to let it end in disappointment.”

“You’re insane,” Matt said, but he was grinning. “You know that, right?”

“Probably,” I agreed with a laugh. “But those kids have been waiting all evening to see Santa, and we can’t let them down.”

“What about your voice? Pat has the whole Santa laugh thing down to an art.”

“I’ll figure it out,” I said, though privately I was hoping that enthusiasm would carry me through any vocal shortcomings.

“Just speak from the heart,” Pat said.

Matt laughed. “I think the morphine’s kicking in.”

Pat chuckled and his eyes fluttered closed. “Still good advice.”

I jumped down from the ambulance and started jogging toward city hall. Joy needed this to work. The festival needed this to work. If I could pull off being Santa for one evening, it would prove to Joy that I was the kind of man who would do whatever it took to make her dreams come true.

Even if it meant wearing a ridiculous costume and pretending to be jolly in front of the entire town.

Ho ho ho, indeed.

For Joy, I was willing to try anything.

“Cooper!”

I recognized my sister’s voice. “Can’t talk now,” I called and continued jogging.

Katrina was in good shape and fell in step beside me. “Where are you going? What happened? I saw the ambulance pull away. Is everything okay?”

“Santa went down.”

“Santa? Pat?”