Page 50 of Falling for the Grinchy Bad Boy

18

COOPER

The snow had started falling around ten that morning, adding to the few inches we’d already accumulated over the past week. Not enough to shut anything down, but just enough to make everything look like a Christmas card and turn the town square into a winter wonderland. Which was probably exactly what Joy had ordered up from the weather gods, knowing her.

If I was in control of the weather and she turned those big brown eyes on me and asked for a white Christmas, I would let it snow. In a heartbeat. No questions asked.

I had been out here since eight, overseeing the setup of vendor booths for tonight’s Santa’s Night Market. Measuring distances between stalls, checking that the electrical cables were properly secured and routed away from foot traffic, making sure every connection was weatherproofed. The last thing we needed was someone tripping over a loose wire or getting shocked because a vendor hadn’t sealed their power setup properly.

“Cooper, this one’s too close to the hot chocolate stand,” Tommy called out from where he was helping position one of the craft booths. “Fire hazard?”

“Yeah, move it back three feet,” I called back, making a note on my clipboard. “And make sure that heater they’re using has proper clearance on all sides.”

This was the kind of work I understood, concrete problems with concrete solutions. Measure twice, secure everything, follow the safety protocols. No ambiguity, no emotional landmines, no complicated feelings to navigate.

Unlike the woman I could see across the square, directing the crew that was setting up the small stage where the church choir would perform. People listened to her. I supposed I wasn’t all that surprised. She wasn’t a big person but there was just something about her presence that people paid attention to. Today she was wearing combat boots, leggings, and a sweater that hung low enough to cover her ass. It was very city chic, and I fucking loved it. She looked like she could be going into battle or for coffee. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun and she’d only put on a little makeup.

And I so fucking wanted to kiss her.

Joy had been keeping her distance since our conversation at the diner three days ago, just like she’d promised. Professional interactions only, brief and to the point. She’d email me schedules and vendor lists to get my opinion. I responded with safety concerns and logistics notes. We had managed to coordinate the entire Night Market setup without having a single personal conversation.

It was exactly what I had asked for. What I needed for my own sanity and self-preservation.

So why did I find myself looking for her in every crowd? Why did I miss the way she used to bounce over to me with some new idea or problem to solve, her eyes bright with enthusiasm? Why did the careful distance between us feel like a physical ache in my chest?

I was an idiot. That’s why. I was a masochist. A glutton for punishment. I wanted to torture myself by standing next to her.

“Cooper!” Tommy’s voice cut through my brooding. “Can you come check this electrical setup? Something doesn’t look right.”

I made my way over to where he was examining a tangle of extension cords that looked like someone had let a toddler loose with a box of Christmas lights. “Shit, who set this up?”

“The guy with the kettle corn stand. Says he’s been doing it this way for years.”

“Well, he’s lucky he hasn’t electrocuted anyone.” I started untangling the mess, rerouting cords properly and making sure everything was grounded. “Get me some cable covers from the truck. We need to protect these runs.”

Tommy was a young kid that was serving as my sidekick for the day. He seemed eager to please.

As I worked, I found my attention drifting back to Joy and her stage crew. She was wearing that red knit hat again, the one with the pom-pom that kept falling into her eyes, and every few minutes she’d blow it away in a gesture that was annoyingly adorable.

The stage looked fine from where I was standing, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there might be issues she hadn’t considered. Safety concerns that needed to be addressed before the choir performance tonight.

It wasn’t that I didn’t trust her competence. She’d proven herself more than capable with the tree lighting. But stages were different, especially temporary ones set up in winter weather. There were a lot of things that could go wrong.

And it was my responsibility to make sure everything was safe.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I finished securing the kettle corn vendor’s electric mess and walked over to where Joy was consulting with the head of the construction crew.

“Make sure the steps are wide enough for the choir robes,” she was saying. “Mrs. Wilson uses a walker, so we need⁠—”

“You need stair access on both sides,” I interrupted, studying the stage setup with a critical eye. “Can’t have everyone bottlenecked on one set of steps if there’s an emergency.”

Joy turned to look at me. I caught a flash of irritation in her dark eyes. “Already covered. See those steps being installed on the far side?”

I looked where she was pointing and saw that she was right. The crew was indeed installing a second set of steps. “What about candles? I saw something about candles in the program notes.”

“LED candles only,” she said, her voice carefully patient in a way that suggested she was trying not to roll her eyes at me. “No open flames on a wooden stage in December weather. No open flames period. See? I listened.”

I nodded. “And clearance around the perimeter? You need space for people to move if someone has a medical emergency, or if the weather turns bad and people need to evacuate quickly.”