Page 85 of Falling for the Grinchy Bad Boy

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JOY

Iwas still floating on cloud nine the next morning as I measured flour into Aunt Victoria’s mixing bowl, humming “Silver Bells” under my breath without even realizing it. The kitchen smelled like Christmas. It wasn’t just one scent—it was all of them. Christmas and home. And happiness. Contentment. My heart was full and it was amazing.

“Someone is in an exceptionally good mood this morning,” my aunt observed, glancing up from where she was separating eggs like she had done it a million times before.

I paused in my measuring, surprised to realize she was right. When had I become someone who hummed while baking? When had the simple act of making sugar cookies start to feel like pure joy instead of just another task to check off a list?

“I guess I am happy,” I admitted, adding the flour to our growing collection of ingredients. “Really happy, actually.”

“And would this happiness have anything to do with a certain tall, blue-eyed, and very handsome fireman who’s been occupying quite a bit of your time lately?”

I didn’t bother denying it. Aunt Victoria had always been able to read me like an open book, and besides, I was too content to be embarrassed about the source of my good mood.

“Cooper did something incredible last night,” I said, unable to keep the wonder out of my voice. “He created this amazing ice sculpture for the festival—a Christmas tree made entirely of ice with lights embedded inside. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She paused in her egg-separating to look at me with raised eyebrows. “He made you an ice sculpture? How romantic is that?”

“That’s just it. It wasn’t just romantic. It was thoughtful and creative and completely unexpected.” I set down the measuring cup and leaned against the counter, remembering the moment when Cooper had flipped that switch and the tree had bloomed with light. “He saw a problem that was bothering me—this empty space at the festival that I couldn’t figure out how to fill—and he didn’t just solve it. He created something special.”

She cracked another egg, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “That sounds like Cooper. He’s always been one to go above and beyond when someone he cares about needs help.”

“He hides it well,” I said, thinking about Cooper’s gruff exterior and careful professionalism. “But underneath all that practical attitude and safety consciousness, there’s an incredibly romantic soul.”

“Oh, honey, that’s exactly why Lynn destroyed him so badly.”

The casual comment hit me like a slap. I’d heard references to Cooper’s ex-fiancée before, but her words carried a weight that suggested she knew more about that relationship than I did. I had been too afraid to ask. Lynn had been my friend, and it killed me to think of him with her.

“What do you mean?” I asked carefully.

She was quiet for a moment, seeming to weigh her words. “Cooper has always been the kind of man who believes in love—real, deep, forever kind of love. When he commits to someone, he does it with his whole heart. Lynn?” She shook her head, her expression sad. “Lynn saw that devotion as weakness instead of strength. She tried to steal that capacity for love from him, piece by piece.”

I felt something cold settle in my stomach. “How do you know all this?”

“Small town, honey. And age that gives me wisdom and eyeballs to see a bigger picture than what is on the surface.” She began creaming butter and sugar. “We watched that boy give everything he had to Lynn, and we watched her slowly convince him that his caring was suffocating, his romantic gestures were too much, his love was somehow deficient.”

The picture she was painting made my chest ache. Cooper, who had spent hours in the freezing cold creating something beautiful just because he knew it would make me happy, being told his gestures were too much?

“That’s why he’s so careful now,” I said, understanding flooding through me. “Why he seems surprised when people appreciate his thoughtfulness.”

“Exactly. That man is tougher than a two-dollar steak when it comes to physical challenges. I swear he could wrestle a reindeer if he had to. But a heart once broken is easily cracked again. It’s best you remember that.”

The warning was delivered with love, but it was a warning nonetheless. She was telling me to be careful with Cooper. She was protective of him. That was sweet. I liked that he had a town full of loving family looking out for him even if they weren’t blood related.

“I would never hurt him,” I said quietly.

“Not intentionally, no. But, Joy, honey, that brings up another question.” She stopped mixing and looked at me directly. “Are you planning on sticking around? Because if you’re not sure about staying in Calton Hill long term, you need to think very carefully about how deep you let this thing with Cooper go.”

The question I had been avoiding crystallized in the warm kitchen air. Was I staying? The honest answer was that I didn’t know about forever. My life had been in flux for months, and making permanent decisions still felt premature.

“I don’t know about long term,” I said slowly. “But right now, Calton Hill is exactly where I want to be. Right now, I can’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else.”

She studied my face like she was trying to read my thoughts. After a long ten seconds, she nodded with apparent satisfaction. “Right now is a good place to start.”

We kept prepping the cookies. As the first batch came out of the oven, golden and perfect, I found myself thinking about Cooper and wondering what he was doing with his afternoon.

“Aunt Victoria, would you mind if I took some of these over to Cooper? I have an idea.”