Page 70 of A Spot of Trouble
“I mean, take you and me for instance.” She rested a delicate hand on his chest. “It just couldn’t happen.”
“Nope,” he said, as he reached to wind a lock of her hair around his fingertip. He’d been wanting to do that since the day he’d first seen her on the beach, accusations of dognapping notwithstanding.
She inched closer toward him. “I guess it’s a good thing we’re not attracted to each other, then.”
Sam’s head dipped lower, until her lips were just a whisper away. “Who says I’m not attracted to you?”
“You can’t be attracted to me.” Violet’s breath was warm against his mouth—warm and impossibly sweet. “And I can’t be attracted to you. That’s how this whole enemy thing works.”
“I’m beginning to think having an archenemy is overrated,” Sam groaned.
This was torture. If he didn’t kiss her, he thought he might die from longing.
He moved toward her, brushing his lips against hers as slowly and gently as he possibly could. They were playing a dangerous game here, and he didn’t want to push her into anything. Not ever.
She smiled against his lips. “Careful, there. The last time we did this one of us burst into flames.”
“Worth it,” Sam murmured, and just as he prepared to give her a proper, thorough kiss, the dryer buzzed, indicating her clothes were dry.
Sprinkles and Cinder sprang to life, barking in alarm at the sudden noise. Their spotted heads swiveled to and fro, searching for Sam and Violet. Then the dogs wedged their way between them on the sofa, tails wagging, covering their faces with Dalmatian kisses.
Sam was going to have to have a serious chat with Cinder. Being dragged into the bay was one thing, but interrupting a kiss was crossing a line. Even so, this was the best night he’d had in as long as he could remember. He just wished he knew what it meant. Were he and Violet really enemies, or were they something else…something more?
So much for living in the moment, he thought as he waited for Violet to change out of his Chicago FD shirt and back into her white eyelet dress.
He didn’t know why he was letting himself get carried away like this. His life had never been such a mess. Adding romance into the mix seemed like the worst possible decision he could make, especially if that romance was with the police chief’s daughter.
“It’s just you and me, Cinder,” he whispered, running his thumb over one of his Dalmatian’s soft ears. “Right, girl?”
Sam wished the dog could talk. Not only did she have a lot of explaining to do for her recent behavior, but he could have used some advice from someone who knew him inside and out.
The door to the bathroom swung open and Violet stepped out with Sprinkles trailing in her footsteps. Violet had twisted her hair into a messy bun on top of her head, and her dress looked as good as new.
“We should probably get going,” she said. “There’s a big game tomorrow.”
She offered him his T-shirt, folded into a neat square.
He pushed it back toward her. “You keep it. Just don’t let anyone catch you wearing it.” He winked. “Obviously.”
Surprise splashed across her face, but she quickly recovered and echoed him as he’d done just a little while ago. “Obviously.”
Violet pressed the shirt to her heart, then bent to clip Sprinkles’s leash onto her cupcake collar. Sam held the front door open for them and they stepped out onto the deck.
The moon shone high overhead, and stars filled the sky, shimmering like tiny diamonds on a dark velvet pillow.
Violet smiled up at him. “I’m still waiting for a thank you for saving your life, by the way.”
He laughed. “Never going to happen, nemesis.”
And then she was gone, pedaling her way back to enemy territory on her cruiser bike with her black-and-white dog trotting alongside her. Sam stood barefoot on the deck and watched them until they disappeared from view. To his right, he could hear the tumbling roar of the ocean, and to his left, moonlight glittered on the quiet surface of the bay. Sam’s rented cottage lingered in the space in between.
When he went back inside, he found Cinder sleeping in a tight ball in the center of his perfectly made bed—not a wrinkle or rumpled bedsheet in sight.
Chapter 16
Sam wasn’t sure what to make of the made bed. He wanted to take it as a sign that Cinder had come to her senses and everything about their orderly, predictable life was once again intact.
The following morning, though, the Dalmatian jumped off the foot of the bed at first light and headed straight for the deck to bark at passing seagulls. Sam stumbled behind her, pausing to turn on the coffee maker and pull on some clothes so he could take his dog for a quick run on the beach before the softball game.
