Any of the other crew members would be more qualified than Cole to spark the magic of Christmas for the kids at the parade. He suspected most of the guys would even like playing Santa, but were enjoying ragging him too much to step in.

Cole hadn’t even celebrated the holiday in years. How was he supposed to pull off being Santa to this full-of-Christmas-spirit small Kentucky town?

“Not nearly as bad as having to wear that.” To prove it, he stuck the tip of the candy back into his mouth—and immediately regretted doing so. It should be against the law for candy canes to come in any flavor other than peppermint.

Or for guys with tainted souls to play the ultimate Christmas good guy.

“Come on, Cole. Model the suit for us,” Jules said from where she stood on a stepladder placing an ornament of a Dalmatian in a fire helmet on the tree.

Ben handed another ornament up to Jules as he added, “You do need to make sure the costume fits.”

Glaring at his coworkers, Cole bit off a piece of the candy and crunched the disgusting stuff between his teeth.

“Ben’s right,” Chief confirmed, his salt and pepper mustache curling upward as he rocked his six-five frame back on his heels. “Last year, the pants had to be hemmed for Bob. I suspect you’ll have to have the extra length let back out.”

“Or maybe Bob should just be Santa again this year,” Cole mumbled, wondering how long the candy’s bad taste would linger in his mouth.

“His daughter is expecting her first baby that week,” Chief reminded, his brown eyes twinkling with humor, as well, beneath his bushy brows. “Bob will be in Connecticut to meet his grandchild.”

There was that.

“I’ll be in my office—I have a meeting in a few minutes.” His gaze connected with Cole’s. “But for the record, I couldn’t have chosen anyone better to be the department’s Santa. You’ll do great.”

Cole wasn’t the type to argue with his boss, nor did he usually feel the desire to do so. But, for once, he longed to list all the reasons Chief was wrong.

Instead, he sighed.

Whether he wanted to or not, he was going to be Santa in the Pine Hill Christmas parade. Santa should be some happy, jovial fellow, not a former Marine who’d done things that still haunted Cole’s dreams.

No one else at the firehall battled the demons Cole fought.

Thank God.

Cole was proud to have been a Marine, proud of the brotherhood he’d belonged to. He would die filled with love for the good ole US of A and pride that he’d served his country with all his heart. But when it came to the things he’d done…

There was no pride in himself, nor should there be.