Page 125 of Falling for the Grinchy Bad Boy

“Yeah.”

“And why are we running?”

“Because there’s a Santa costume in city hall,” I said.

Katrina stumbled and barely kept herself upright. “You’re going to Santa? Are you completely out of your mind?”

“Probably,” I said, not slowing down. “But I’m not going to let Joy go down in flames. She needs a Santa, so she’ll get a Santa.”

“Cooper, you hate Christmas. You’ve spent the last eleven months complaining about Santa calls and Christmas decorations.”

“My feelings on the holiday might change, depending on how the next hour or so goes.” I reached the side door of city hall and yanked it open.

“Unlocked?” Kat asked. “It’s a Christmas miracle.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“I know, but I’m not letting you in there until you explain to me why my Grinch of a brother suddenly wants to play Santa Claus. How much eggnog have you had?”

“None.” I turned to face her, breathing hard from the jog. “It’s because Joy matters more than my stupid hang-ups about last Christmas. Because she’s been killing herself to make this festival perfect, and I’ll be damned if I let it fall apart if I can help it.”

Katrina studied my face for a long moment, then broke into a grin. “Hey, there’s the brother I remember. I like you better when you’re not moping around.”

“Me too,” I said. “Now are you going to help me or not?”

“Are you kidding? Lead the way, Jolly Old St. Nick.” She held the door open. “Let’s swaddle you in velvet and get you ready for the big show.”

We rushed through the empty hallways to the storage room where the festival supplies were kept. Katrina flicked on the lights and I immediately started digging through boxes and costume bags.

“Here!” I held up a red velvet jacket that looked like it had seen better decades. “And here’s the pants.”

“Um, Cooper, when was the last time this thing was cleaned?” she asked. “They smell like Santa’s been sleeping in the reindeer stables.”

I was not about to tell her the things the jacket had seen.

I grabbed a can of air freshener off a nearby shelf and sprayed the costume down. Artificial pine scent was an improvement and complemented the holiday. “Now will it fit?”

“Hold it up to yourself.” She stepped back and assessed me critically. “You’re going to need serious padding. How many pork chops do you think you could eat in the next five minutes?”

“Not nearly enough.” I pointed to a pile of throw pillows stacked in the corner. “Will those work?”

“Perfect.” Katrina started grabbing pillows and shoving them at me. “Suit up while I rig up a Santa belly.” She turned around and started rummaging through another box. “I just need some tape. Maybe a staple gun.”

“Easy.” I pulled off my fire department shirt exposing my white T-shirt.

Katrina started strapping pillows to my torso with what looked like an old belt. “This will have to do.”

Pillows in place, she went back to the boxes. I pulled on my red pants over my new belly and snapped the suspenders up over my shoulders, securing them in place.

“You already look seventy percent more jolly.” Katrina tossed over a white beard and wig that looked blessedly clean. “Joy’s going to die when she finds out you did this for her.”

“If I don’t die of embarrassment first.” I threw the coat on and caught a glimpse of myself in the small mirror hanging on the storage room wall and immediately regretted it. I looked like a scarecrow that had raided Santa’s closet.

“The beard’s crooked,” Katrina said, adjusting the elastic strap behind my ears. “And you need the hat. Where’s the—there it is.”

She plopped the red Santa hat on my head, and I felt a piece of my dignity die.

“Do I look like Santa?” I asked, though I was afraid of the answer.