Page 69 of A Spot of Trouble
“Yeah, she’s having an off day,” he said, as if that could explain away being dragged into the bay.
“I thought Cinder didn’t have off days.”
So did I.“Your clothes should be dry soon. And your bicycle is good to go.”
“Thank you.” She glanced down at the fire department crest splashed across the T-shirt she was wearing. “There’s no way I could possibly go home like this. People would talk.”
“I hate to tell you this, but people are probably already talking.” Sam wouldn’t be surprised if a picture of them both being dragged down the boardwalk by their unruly Dalmatians made the front page of tomorrow morning’sGazette. Accompanied, of course, by an exclusive interview with the fish that had popped out of Violet’s dress.
“I can deal with that. But this…” She took the edge of the T-shirt between her pointer fingers and thumbs and did a mock curtsy. “Not so much.”
Sam laughed, but he wanted to tell her to take the shirt with her, to sleep in it on moonlit summer nights and think of him.
How had his calm, quiet life spun so completely out of control? Nothing was as it should be—not his job, not his dog, not his carefully guarded heart. He needed to reel himself back in before someone got hurt. And make no mistake, if these crazy Dalmatian antics continued, someone would.
“Is that the dog beach?” A smile tipped Violet’s lips as she studied the framed watercolor he’d bought in the new gallery on the boardwalk.
“Looks like it.” Sam had the sudden urge to throw himself between her and the painting before she discovered her own tiny image delicately rendered on the horizon.
But if she noticed it, she didn’t let on. “I like your cottage. It’s not at all what I expected. It’s very homey.”
Sam wondered if she was alluding to his unmade bed but thought it best not to go there. “It’s rented.”
I haven’t put down roots here. I don’t even know if I’m staying.
“I see.” Her smile dimmed somewhat, and she wrapped her arms around herself.
“Violet, you can sit down if you like. I’m not going to bite.”
“My previous experience with firefighters says otherwise,” she said, but she lowered herself onto his sofa and tucked her legs beneath her.
Sam pulled a blanket from a nearby easy chair and handed it to her. “Yeah, I heard a little something about that.”
“Of course you did. This is Turtle Beach.” Violet rolled her eyes, but beneath her bravado, Sam could see a hint of vulnerability.
Beneath all of her whimsy and charm, Violet was a real person with real feelings. And as he looked at her, curled up on his sofa, a world away from her quirky bingo-playing friends and the food truck topped with its spinning pink cupcake, he realized something.
On the surface, Violet lived a charmed life—the town darling who resided in the biggest house on the island with her doting family and lovable-but-naughty Dalmatian. She believed the best in people, Sprinkles included. Until she’d discovered he’d been a baseball star, she’d even chosen to believe the best in Sam and ventured into enemy territory to bring him apology cupcakes. Her chosen profession involved frilly aprons, cake, and copious amounts of buttercream.
But all those things weren’t evidence of a life without hardships. Quite the contrary. Violet had known loss since the day she’d been born. She’d been hurt and taken advantage of by a man she’d trusted, and every living soul on the island knew about it. And still she’d chosen to embrace the lighter side of life—the good side.
If anyone knew how brave that choice could be, it was Sam. They were the antithesis of one another. When things had gotten tough in his own life, he’d withdrawn. He’d chosen to hide in his darkness while Violet was determined to bloom, leaning as hard as she could into the light.
“Do you want to know what the worst part of it was?” Her eyes were huge pools of endless blue, and Sam wanted to dive right in.
“Tell me.” He sat down on the opposite end of the sofa. There couldn’t have been more than half a foot between them, but it felt as wide as a canyon.
“I should have seen it coming. It was just soobvious. Everyone tried to warn me—my dad, my brothers, my friends. He was the star player for the Hoses, and suddenly he was madly in love with me, right at the start of the season.” She sighed. “I knew better. I knew that dating a firefighter would be complicated, but I wanted so badly to believe in a happily ever after that I charged ahead anyway.”
“Everyone makes mistakes, Violet,” Sam said. “Even Cinder, remember?”
Violet shifted so that they were shoulder to shoulder, as they’d been back at the senior center on Mavis’s loveseat. “Well, I’ll never make that one again.”
“Believe in happy endings?” Sam couldn’t see it. Believing in such things seemed built into her DNA. He reached for her hand and his fingertips wound through hers, seemingly of their own volition.
“Date a fireman.” Violet turned toward him, and her gaze dropped slowly…purposefully…to his mouth. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Sam echoed, heart pounding hard in his chest. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to cup her face in his hands and kiss her silly.
