Page 130 of Falling for the Grinchy Bad Boy

The words felt like a weight lifting off my chest. I’d never said them out loud before. Hell, I’d barely admitted to myself how deep my feelings for Joy had become. But standing here in front of my ex-fiancée, wearing a Santa suit and defending the woman who’d become everything to me, the truth felt crystal clear.

Lynn’s composure cracked completely. “You can’t be serious. Joy Murphy? She’s going to leave, Cooper. She always leaves. The moment something better comes along⁠—”

“You need to back off,” I said, my voice taking on the authoritative tone I used in emergencies. “You need to stop manipulating situations, stop trying to interfere with my life, and accept that what we had is over. Permanently. You were the one that left when something better came along.”

She rolled her eyes like I was being a dumbass for bringing up her cheating ways. “I didn’t say he was better.”

I laughed. “You didn’t have to. You’re just looking for someone to be your little puppet. Someone that’s going to worship at your feet and give you whatever you want. I’m not that man. Apparently your boyfriend wasn’t either. Hop back in the dating pool and see if you can find what you’re looking for. It ain’t here.”

“Cooper, you’re making a mistake.”

“If you contact me again, if you approach Joy again, if you make any attempt to insert yourself into our lives, I will file for a restraining order,” I continued. “I’m done with your games, Lynn. I’m done with your manipulation. Find someone else to torment.”

Lynn opened her mouth to respond, her face flushed with rage and humiliation, when something cold and wet smacked her directly in the face.

A snowball. A perfectly aimed, tightly packed snowball that exploded against her cheek with a satisfying impact.

I turned to see Katrina standing about ten feet away, already packing another projectile.

“Oops,” my sister said with obviously fake innocence. “My hand slipped. I was aiming for your throat.”

Lynn sputtered, wiping snow from her face and expensive coat. “You little⁠—”

THWACK. Another snowball, this one hitting her square in the chest.

“Gosh, I’m so clumsy tonight,” Katrina said, grinning fiercely. “Must be all this Christmas spirit in the air.”

In my opinion, Lynn was getting off easy with a few snowballs. Katrina wanted to do more.

Lynn opened her mouth again, probably to unleash the kind of verbal assault she specialized in, when more snowballs began flying from different directions. Some of the teenagers who’d been watching the confrontation had decided to join Katrina’s impromptu artillery barrage.

THWACK. THWACK. THWACK.

Snow exploded against Lynn’s coat. Her perfectly styled hair was wet and losing that high-priced sheen. Her designer boots were going to be wet and ruined any second. She spun around, trying to identify all her attackers, but more people were joining in by the second.

Parents who remembered how devastated I’d been after she left me at the altar. Vendors who’d watched her try to manipulate situations all week. Even some of the older kids who could sense the adults’ disapproval and wanted to be part of whatever justice was being served.

“This is assault!” Lynn shrieked, trying to shield herself from the barrage.

“This is Calton Hill,” someone called out. “Love it or leave it!”

Lynn looked around desperately, searching for sympathy or support, but found only hostile faces and more ammunition being prepared. The entire crowd had turned against her with the kind of unified purpose that small towns were famous for when they decided someone had crossed the line. Plus, throwing snowballs was fun.

“You’re all crazy!” she yelled, backing toward the edge of the market grounds as snowballs continued to fly.

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” someone shouted.

Lynn turned and ran, her expensive boots slipping on the snowy ground as she fled toward the parking area. A few final snowballs followed her retreat, more symbolic than accurate, until she disappeared into the darkness beyond the festival lights.

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause. It was the kind of celebration usually reserved for high school football victories. People were laughing, high-fiving, and generally acting like they’d just witnessed the triumph of good over evil.

Which, I supposed, they had.

I stood in the middle of it all, still wearing my Santa suit, feeling like I’d just fought a dragon and won. The relief was overwhelming—not just because Lynn was gone but because I finally found the courage to stand up to her manipulation and choose what I wanted instead of what I thought I should want.

“So,” a familiar voice beside me, warm with amusement and something deeper. “You love me, huh?”

I turned to find Joy standing close enough that I could see the tears in her eyes, the smile that seemed to light up her entire face.