Page 72 of Falling for the Grinchy Bad Boy

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COOPER

The town square buzzed with excited chatter and the sound of children’s laughter as families gathered around their assigned stations. Each group was equipped with a carefully constructed pile of packed snow and a table laden with decorating supplies. Carrots in various sizes for noses and buttons for eyes and mouths. There were an assortment of colorful scarves and mittens that had been collected for a charity drive and would be given to those in need after the contest. There were hats ranging from top hats to baseball caps along with festive bows, corncob pipes, and what appeared to be every random household item that could conceivably be used to bring a snowman to life.

The collection process started right after Halloween. It was a chance for people to get rid of crap they didn’t want, and it would all end up going to people who could use it.

I stood at the edge of the square with Matt and Katrina, clipboard in hand, running through my mental checklist of potential safety hazards. The snow was good and packable—not too wet, not too dry—which reduced the risk of participants overexerting themselves trying to build with uncooperative material. The spacing between stations was adequate to prevent collisions between enthusiastic builders. The first aid station was clearly marked and easily accessible.

I told myself to relax. It was a snowman building contest. Not a snowball fight. There was no real danger.

But people had long surprised me with their very creative ways of finding trouble. I couldn’t even name all of the calls we had been on that had left me scratching my head and wondering why.

Basically, I didn’t trust humans.

“This is so much fun,” Katrina said, bouncing slightly on her toes as she watched a family of four attempt to hoist a massive snowball for their snowman’s midsection. “I love how into it everyone gets.”

“The Millers are planning on going all out this year,” Matt observed, nodding toward a station where they were discussing an elaborate snow sculpture. “Is that supposed to be a snow castle?”

“I think it’s a snow nativity scene,” I said, squinting at their sketched-out drawing at their workstation. “Very festive, potentially unstable.”

Matt laughed. “There’s the Cooper we know and love. Always looking for the structural weaknesses.”

Before I could respond to that, or point out that someone needed to be concerned about structural integrity when children were involved, a familiar voice called my name.

“Cooper!”

I turned to see Joy approaching, her cheeks pink from the cold and her eyes bright with excitement. She wore a red knit hat that made her look about seventeen, and there was something infectious about her enthusiasm that made me smile despite myself.

I waited for the awkward to hit. She had spent the night at my place. And then dipped out.

“Hey,” I said, trying to keep my voice casual even as my pulse kicked up a notch. We’d spent the night together three days ago, and while we’d texted a few times since then, this was the first time I’d seen her in person. The memory of how she’d felt in my arms was never going to leave me. But it was the sounds she made when I kissed that spot just below her ear or pushed into her tight little body that were making me hard.

“Perfect timing,” she said, slightly breathless from hurrying over. “One of the families just canceled last minute. Something about a sick kid. And there’s an open station.” She gestured toward an abandoned pile of snow and decorating table. “The three of you should take it. You could represent the fire department.”

“Oh, we’re not really—” I started, but Katrina cut me off.

“That’s a fantastic idea!” my sister said, clapping her hands together. “Come on, Cooper. When’s the last time you built a snowman?”

“I’m on duty,” I pointed out. “I’m supposed to be monitoring for safety issues, not participating.”

“The safety issues will still be there in an hour,” Matt interrupted with a grin. “Besides, what better way to monitor the contest than from the inside?”

I looked between the three of them and realized I was outnumbered. Outmaneuvered, actually, by people who knew me well enough to understand that I couldn’t resist a logical argument, even when it was being used against me.

I saw the move for what it was. They were all trying to un-Grinch me.

“Fine,” I said, trying to sound reluctant even though part of me was actually curious about the whole snowman contest. “But if someone gets hurt because I was distracted building Frosty the Fireman, it’s on your heads.”

“Deal,” Joy said with a bright smile.

And just like that my cock was climbing out of the warmth between my legs and looking for a little action.

Thank God I had on thick pants and a bulky coat to hide things.

We made our way to the abandoned station, and I had to admit the setup was impressive. The snow pile was substantial but manageable. The decorating table held an impressive array of supplies. Someone had clearly put thought into making sure each team had everything they needed to create their vision, whatever it might be.

“So what’s the plan?” Matt asked. “Traditional snowman? Something more creative?”