Page 74 of Falling for the Grinchy Bad Boy

She was right. Somewhere between deciding to embrace our accidental dog shape and watching our vision come to life, I had forgotten to be self-conscious about participating in what I initially dismissed as a silly event. I was actually having fun.

“It’s a good problem-solving exercise,” I said, though even I could hear the defensiveness in my voice.

“Uh-huh.” Katrina’s smile was knowing. “Very practical and logical, this snowman building.”

“Snow dog building,” I corrected automatically, and she laughed.

“Right. Snow dog building. Much more serious.”

The judging began thirty minutes later, with Mayor Winslow and two other volunteers making their way from station to station with clipboards and serious expressions. Joy was following behind her. She wasn’t a judge, but this was her event. Categories included Most Traditional, Most Festive, Largest, and Most Creative, with ribbons for each winner.

When the judges reached our station, I felt a flutter of nervousness that surprised me. When had I started caring whether our snow dalmatian won anything?

“Well, this is certainly unique,” the mayor said, walking around our creation with obvious interest. “A dalmatian, I’m guessing? Very fitting for the fire department.”

“It started as a regular snowman,” Katrina explained, “but when it ended up looking more like a dog, my brother suggested we go with it.”

“Your brother has good instincts,” one of the other judges said, making notes on her clipboard. “It’s creative, well executed, and tells a story. I like the attention to detail with the spots and the hat. You all did a great job.”

They moved on to the next station. I found myself watching their progress with more interest than I cared to admit. Our snow dalmatian sat proudly in its spot, red cap jauntily positioned, coal spots scattered in a realistic pattern across its white body. It wasn’t perfect, but it was fun. I was surprised by how attached to it I’d become in such a short time.

The announcement came twenty minutes later. Mayor Winslow’s voice carried clearly across the square as he called out the winners in each category.

“Most Creative goes to the fire department’s snow dalmatian!”

A cheer went up from our little group, and I found myself grinning as Katrina threw her arms around me in a spontaneous hug.

“We won!” Katrina said, bouncing on her toes. “We actually won!”

“I can’t believe it,” Matt added, shaking his head with amazement. “We went from snowman failure to contest winner.”

As we accepted our ribbon and posed for pictures with our prize-winning creation, I caught Joy’s eye over Katrina’s head. She was smiling and actually looked proud of us.