Page 82 of Falling for the Grinchy Bad Boy

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COOPER

The temperature had dropped to a brutal twenty-two degrees by the time I pulled the fire truck into the empty Christmas market. My breath formed clouds that dissipated almost immediately in the dry cold. I could feel the bite of winter through my heavy coat and gloves.

Perfect conditions for what I had in mind. It had to be cold.

Matt jumped down from the passenger side, followed by Elijah and Tony. I hadn’t explained the details of tonight’s operation to anyone except Matt, and even he looked skeptical about the whole enterprise.

“You sure about this, Cooper?” Matt asked, his voice muffled by the thick scarf wrapped around his neck. “It’s cold enough to freeze spit before it hits the ground.”

“That’s exactly the point,” I said, backing the truck into position near the empty corner Joy and I had identified earlier. “We need it to be this cold for it to work.”

Well work might be an optimistic term. What I was planning was based more on hopeful theory than any science, but the basic concept was sound. Water plus sub-freezing temperatures plus careful application should equal something magical, assuming I hadn’t completely miscalculated.

The headlights of Joy’s car swept across the market as she pulled in. I felt that familiar flutter of anticipation in my chest. I asked her to meet us here without explaining what we were doing, which in retrospect probably seemed mysterious to the point of being suspicious.

Thank God she trusted me.

She emerged from her car bundled in a down coat that made her look like a cheerful marshmallow.

“Cooper, are you finally going to explain what you’re doing out here? It’s too damn cold to be standing around playing twenty questions.”

The complaint was valid. The cold was the kind that bit through any exposed skin and made your lungs ache if you breathed too deeply. It made snot freeze in your nose. But that same brutal temperature was essential for what I hoped to accomplish.

“The cold is the whole point,” I said. “We need it to be this cold for what I want to try.”

Joy looked between me and the fire truck, clearly trying to piece together what possible connection there could be between emergency equipment and festival decoration. “Okay, I’ll bite. What exactly are we doing?”

Instead of explaining, I gestured to Matt and the others. “Let’s get the ladder extended first, then I’ll show you.”

The guys moved, extending the truck’s aerial ladder to its full height and positioning it directly over the empty corner space. The ladder’s reach put the tip about twenty feet above the ground, creating a perfect overhead position for what I had planned.

“Now the hose,” I called. Elijah began feeding one of the smaller attack lines up the ladder, securing it at intervals until the brass nozzle hung down like a giant showerhead positioned directly over our target area.

Joy watched all this preparation with growing bewilderment, her arms crossed against the cold as she tried to make sense of our setup.

“Cooper,” she said with exaggerated patience, “I’m freezing my ass off out here. Can you please tell me what we’re building?”

“Trust me,” I said, moving to the truck’s pump panel and making the necessary adjustments. “Just give me ten minutes.”

I signaled to Tony, who was positioned at the base of the ladder with the hose controls. “Start with a fine spray pattern, low pressure. We want mist, not a deluge.”

Tony adjusted the nozzle, and suddenly a cone of water droplets began falling from twenty feet up, creating a misty shower that immediately began to react to the frigid air. In temperatures this low, the water didn’t have time to hit the ground as liquid—it froze almost instantly upon contact with the air and whatever surface it touched.

“I still don’t understand what—” Joy started, then stopped as she began to see what was happening.

The mist was freezing into a circular base on the ground, building up layer by layer as Matt maintained the steady spray. The droplets crystallized as they fell, creating a foundation of clear ice that grew taller with each passing second.

“Be patient,” I said, watching the process with the same fascination as Joy. Even though this had been my idea, seeing it actually work was something close to miraculous.

After ten minutes, we had a circular base about three feet in diameter and six inches high. I signaled Hansen to adjust the spray pattern, narrowing the cone slightly, and the ice began building up in a more focused area, creating the beginning of a tapered shape.

“It’s working,” Matt said with obvious amazement. “It’s actually working. It’s starting to look like a tree.”

That’s when I implemented the second phase of my plan.

“Elijah, bring me that case from the truck,” I called, nodding toward a plastic container I loaded earlier.