Page 128 of Falling for the Grinchy Bad Boy

Everyone cheered. Relief flooded through my veins with the intensity of a powerful drug. Fucking Pat Samson knew how to make a dramatic entrance, I’d give him that. Leave it to him to build suspense right up until the last possible moment.

The jolly figure made his way through the crowd with theatrical grandeur, waving to children and calling out “Ho ho ho!” in a voice that carried across the square. Parents gushed with relief and children jumped up and down with excitement.

I felt like I could finally breathe again.

Santa settled into his elaborate chair in front of the workshop, adjusting his red coat and stroking his white beard with a great deal of showmanship. The first family in line began to approach, but I hurried over to check in with him first. We needed to coordinate the flow of visitors and make sure he had everything he needed.

“Pat, thank God you made it,” I started, but before I could finish the sentence, Santa reached out and pulled me down onto his lap with surprising strength.

“Ho ho ho! And have you been a good girl this year?” he asked in a voice that was deeper than Pat’s usual Santa impression.

I was about to tell Pat Samson to go fuck himself for the inappropriate manhandling when I looked into his eyes and froze. Those weren’t Pat’s twinkling eyes behind the wire-rimmed glasses. These were beautiful blue eyes that I knew as well as my own reflection.

“Cooper,” I whispered, completely stunned. “What the hell is going on?”

“Pat fell and hurt his knee on the way in,” he explained quietly. “I got him off to the hospital, and I knew you needed a Santa. So here I am. Merry Christmas.”

The relief and gratitude that washed over me was overwhelming. Cooper had seen a problem, seen that I needed help, and had stepped in without hesitation. He had shown up when I needed him most.

I found myself cuddling into him a little, loving the feel of his strong arms around me even through the bulky costume. It felt safe and warm and like coming home after a long journey.

Then I remembered that approximately fifty children and their parents were watching us. I quickly scooted to a more appropriate seating arrangement on the edge of his lap. I did not want the new rumor to include me getting a little too touchy-feely with Santa.

“Cooper Frost in a Santa suit,” I said softly, still processing the surreal situation. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Technically, I was in half a Santa suit that night in city hall,” he replied with that dry humor that always made me smile.

The memory of our snow-delayed evening hit me with unexpected heat. I leaned close to his ear, letting my breath tickle the edge of his fake beard.

“Later, I’m going to strip this suit off you like the last one,” I whispered.

Cooper’s grip on my waist tightened. “Stop,” he murmured back, “or else no one else is sitting on my lap tonight.”

I laughed despite myself and stood up, doing my best to try and regain some professional composure. We had work to do.

“Alright, everyone,” I called to the waiting families. “Santa’s almost ready to hear all your Christmas wishes! Remember, after you visit with Santa, you can walk through the workshop and pick out a special gift to take home. Sorry for the delay, but the best things in life are worth waiting for, right?”

They all seemed to agree. The next hour passed in a blur of delighted children, patient parents, and Christmas magic. Cooper threw himself into the role with surprising enthusiasm, listening carefully to each child’s wishes and responding with exactly the kind of warmth and attention that made the experience special.

A little girl wanted a pony that could fly. Cooper told her he’d have to check with the reindeer about flight training protocols. A boy asked for a robot that could do his homework. Santa explained that robots were only allowed to help, not do the work entirely, because learning was important. When a shy three-year-old whispered that she wanted her daddy to come home from deployment, Cooper’s voice gentled as he promised to send extra Christmas magic to keep her family safe.

Parents took photos, children selected gifts from the donated toy collection, and the whole workshop hummed with exactly the kind of joy I had envisioned when I first planned this event. Watching Cooper interact with the families, seeing him bring such care and attention to his improvised role, made my chest tight with emotions I didn’t know how to deal with.

And I was being a very naughty elf with my less than clean thoughts. I was kind of leaning into the idea he kept the beard on while I rode him.

Did that make me a freak?

Maybe. I didn’t care. I was definitely going to have that man naked by the end of the night. Everything was going perfectly until I spotted a familiar figure hovering near the edge of the crowd.

Lynn.

She stood just outside the main circle of families, watching the Santa interactions with a stormy expression. She was dressed impeccably as always, but I had no doubt she was there to stir up more shit. My stomach clenched with dread. Couldn’t she just leave us the hell alone for once?

I tried to position myself between her and the workshop, hoping she’d get the hint and move along. But Lynn began moving closer to Santa’s chair. Whatever she was planning, it wasn’t going to be good for anyone involved.

My mind raced. Garlic kept away vampires, silver bullets stopped werewolves, but what would ward off a scheming little skank who wouldn’t mind her own business? Throwing hot cocoa in her face might work.

Before I could find out, a strong hand gripped my shoulder. Cooper had noticed her too, and even through the Santa costume, his presence felt solid and reassuring.

“Let me handle this once and for all,” he said quietly.

“No,” I murmured. “You can’t.”

“I can and I will. This ends now.”

“Cooper—”