Page 34 of A Spot of Trouble
“Everything’s wonderful,” Mavis said.
Joe and Josh weren’t buying it.
“Vi?” Joe peered at his sister.
“I’mfine,” Violet said. “Sam here was just mansplaining to me that he didn’t cause Sprinkles to interfere with the game.”
“Mansplaining?” Sam laughed, good and loud. “We were having a conversation. I’m simply trying to tell you that what happened was nothing but an accident. I don’t cheat.”
“If you say so.” Violet shrugged.
“And I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Sam leaned forward, and a forbidden thrill skittered through him when her cheeks flared pink. “I don’t care who wins this asinine softball tournament.”
Mavis, Opal, and Ethel gasped. Joe and Josh both stared at him as if he’d just sprouted an additional head.
Violet looked as though she was doing her best not to roll her eyes. “I don’t believe that for a second, and if you truly don’t care, maybe I can help you change that.”
Sam cocked his head, and Cinder mirrored him, tilting her little doggy head until one of her ears dangled. “What exactly are you suggesting?”
“Nothing.” Joe shook his head. “Violet, stay out of this.”
“Stop telling me what to do. This is between Sam and me,” Violet said. There was that sweet smile of hers again—the one that dripped equal parts sugar and trouble.
Sam’s head told him to get up and walk away before he did something he’d regret, but his body stayed put.
He arched a brow. “It sounds like you’re proposing a wager.”
“Violet,” Joe warned again.
She kept her attention focused squarely on Sam. “Indeed, I am.”
“Well, now.” Ethel clapped her hands. “Things are finally getting interesting around here.”
“I’ll say.” Mavis’s eyes danced, and her Chihuahua panted with excitement.
Josh and Joe heaved twin sighs.
“What are the terms?” Sam asked, as if he was actually considering a bet. Which he definitely wasn’t.
Probably not, anyway.
“Winner takes all, obviously. If the police department takes home the softball trophy,Iwin. If the firefighters end up as champions,youwin.” She shrugged. “Easy peasy.”
Sam chuckled under his breath. Nothing about this woman was easy. “But you’re already one game down.”
“So?” She shrugged again. “We were winning before Sprinkles ran onto the field. I guess you’re not quite the ringer everyone thought you were.”
Sam’s mouth went dry, and he suppressed the urge to remind her that he’d spent half an inning at her cupcake truck instead of on the diamond. Why was he suddenly feeling all prickly and defensive? He’d been telling the truth when he’d said he didn’t care who won the tournament.
Clearly, he was beginning to feel more invested.
He narrowed his gaze at Violet. “What happens if you win?”
“If I win, you and Cinder have to spend four Saturday afternoons during the height of tourist season on Seashell Drive passing out flyers for Sweetness on Wheels…”
That was it? Somehow, he’d expected the founder of the #FreeCinder movement to come up with something more humiliating.
Violet fluttered her eyelashes at him, all sweetness and charm. “…dressed as cupcakes.”
