Page 32 of Falling for the Grinchy Bad Boy

10

COOPER

Istood there sipping the peppermint mocha Joy had thrust into my hands, watching the absolute circus unfold before me. The candy cane she’d dropped into it was already half-dissolved, turning the whole thing into liquid diabetes. Despite that, I had to admit it wasn’t terrible. And the way her eyes lit up when I took that first sip instead of chucking it into the nearest trash can? Worth every cavity I was probably developing.

Damn. She was gorgeous. I remembered her being pretty but the memories hadn’t done her justice. She was wearing knee high boots, skinny jeans that cupped her ass just right, and a sweater. Average. Typical. I had seen thousands of women in the same get-up, but on her, I wanted to peel off the layers. When she lifted her arms, I was pretty sure I got a flash of a red thong. Just barely. But it wouldn’t surprise me if she was wearing a matching red bra. Being all festive and shit.

“Cooper!” she called out, bouncing on her toes in that ridiculous Santa hat. The pom-pom kept flopping into her eyes, and she kept blowing it away with puffed cheeks. “Come help us figure out how to get this monster upright!”

The “monster” in question was indeed a beast. The tree had to be at least thirty feet tall. I’d been coming to these tree lightings since I was a kid, and I’d never seen anything this massive. It was like someone had decided our quaint little town square needed the Rockefeller Center treatment.

“How exactly did you guys manage to find the one tree in the county that could probably be seen from space?” I asked, walking over to where a cluster of volunteers stood around scratching their heads.

Joy beamed at me. “The tree farm had this beauty marked for removal anyway—something about it being too big for most locations. When I saw it, I knew it was perfect!”

“Perfect for what? Blocking out the sun?”

She swatted my arm, but she was grinning. “Don’t be such a grump. It’s going to be magical.”

Bob from the hardware store had apparently appointed himself foreman of this operation. He was standing with his hands on his hips, staring at the tree like he was trying to decide where to start. “Well, we’ve got the base ready,” he announced. “It’s reinforced steel, bolted into the concrete. Should hold King Kong if we need it to.”

The base was indeed impressive. It was a massive metal contraption that looked like it could anchor a battleship. They had to jackhammer up part of the square to install it, which explained the cordoned-off area I noticed earlier.

At least someone had thought of safety.

“Now comes the fun part,” Mike, who ran a landscaping business, said. He pointed to what looked like a medieval torture device that had been assembled near the tree. “We’re going to use this pulley system to winch it upright. The base has a pivot point, so we’ll secure the tree trunk there, then slowly lift it up.”

I watched as they maneuvered the enormous tree into position. It took about eight guys to wrestle it into the base. I found myself helping despite my better judgment. The thing was heavier than it looked, and by the time we had it secured, I was already working up a sweat despite the December chill.

And in the back of my mind all I could think about was what happened if the damn thing fell over?

But I shook it off and reminded myself we had a tree in the square every year. It would be fine.

“Everybody stand back!” Bob called out as Mike fired up what appeared to be a motorized winch system. The sound was deafening.

Slowly, impossibly, the tree began to rise. It was actually pretty impressive, watching the giant slowly pivot upright. The whole crowd had gathered around to watch. I found myself standing next to Joy, close enough that I could smell her fruity perfume over the scent of pine and exhaust fumes.

“This is so exciting!” she whispered, grabbing my arm. I had the sudden urge to cover her hand with mine. Instead, I took another sip of the increasingly sweet mocha and tried to focus on the mechanical marvel happening in front of us.

The tree reached about the halfway point when there was a mechanical groan that didn’t sound particularly healthy.

“That’s normal, right?” Joy asked, her grip tightening on my arm.

“Probably,” I lied, just as the winch made a sound like a dying whale. Mike lowered the tree a bit and then reversed the pulley to start raising it once again.

Somehow, miraculously, the tree continued its slow journey skyward. When it finally reached vertical and locked into place with a satisfying clunk, the whole crowd burst into spontaneous applause. Even I had to admit it was pretty spectacular. The thing absolutely dwarfed everything around it.

“Phase one complete!” Joy announced, producing a clipboard from somewhere and checking something off with a flourish. “Now for the decorating!”

Now that was going to be interesting.

What followed was organized chaos. The scissor lift arrived, along with what appeared to be half the Christmas decorations in the tri-state area. Boxes and boxes of lights, garlands thick enough to lasso cattle, and ornaments the size of bowling balls.

Joy appointed herself chief decorator, which meant she was simultaneously trying to direct traffic, untangle light strings, and inspect every ornament to make sure it wasn’t faded or chipped. I wasn’t sure why it mattered. There was no possible way anyone was going to be able to see every ornament. Especially the ones up high. She held up each one, squinted at it critically, then either nodded approvingly or tossed it back in the reject pile.

“Cooper, what do you think of this one?” She held up a red ball that looked identical to the previous twelve red balls she had shown me.

“It’s... round?”