“Hey, Lieutenant,” one of them says when I climb out of my truck. “Might wanna… brace yourself.”
I narrow my eyes. “For what?”
He grins. “Christmas spirit.”
That’s when I see it. A giant metal contraption the size of a small tank sits in the middle of the square, pointed directly at my engine. Industrial-sized. Ugly. Plastered with a rental logo.
A snow machine. A massive one.
And Lucy Snow—glitter librarian, chaotic menace, destroyer of my peace—is standing directly behind it like she’s about to commit a felony. I march toward her. “Lucy.”
She jumps like I’ve caught her stealing state secrets. “Oh! Hi, Lieutenant Calder.”
“Why,” I ask, slow and deadly, “is there a snow machine pointed at my truck?”
She beams.Beams.Like I’m praising her.
“Because I’m testing it!”
I drag a hand down my face. “Why are you testing it at the firehouse?”
“Because!” She gestures wildly. “The Fire & Frost parade is tomorrow night, and this machine is supposed to create atmospheric snowfall over the gingerbread float!”
“Absolutely not.”
“It’s already rented.”
“Return it.”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
She brightens. “Because I signed a contract.”
I stare at her. “You signed a contract without checking wattage, safety certification, or use allowances?”
“Yes.” She crosses her arms. “Because I am an optimist, Ash.”
“You’re a hazard, Lucy.”
“And you’re a killjoy.”
My voice drops low. “You have no idea what I could kill right now.”
She flushes. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s a promise.”
Her lips twitch. “You say the most romantic things.”
“Lucy.”
“Ash.”
We’re too close again. Too aligned. Too aware of each other in a way that makes my jaw clench and my pulse spike.
Behind us, my crew mutters: “They’re doing it again.” “Oh yeah. They’re about to combust.” “Fifty bucks says she makes him snap.” “Hundred sayshesnaps first.”
