Page 62 of Peach Blossom Hollow

“Nice photo, right?”

“Where’d you get these?”

“Daisy-Mae snuck them out of Nuvella’s office. Technically, they aren’t available yet, so mum’s the word.”

“Are we going to get in trouble for handing them out?”

“Probably.”

He chuckled. Violet’s rebellious side still surprised him sometimes. Less so than when he’d first met her, as he was getting used to seeing her spunkiness.

“What do you say when someone asks for a selfie with you?” she prompted.

“Say cheese?”

“Say ‘be sure to tag me and the Dragons if you post this on social media.’”

“Right.” She had a lot of rules about the parade and how he was to act. He appreciated it, though. She was making sure he benefited from tonight in terms of visibility and image.

“Try to get photos with kids in them. Family Zone will love that.”

“Reputation enhancement,” he muttered. That’s what Nuvella called it.

The media was divided about the way he’d stormed the stands to protect Violet. They’d loved that he was loyal and protective, looking out for the team’s mascot. But he could see how quickly and easily he could be painted as an uncontrollable hothead who roughed up fans.

Not that he’d roughed up the man.

But he’d wanted to.

The only saving grace was that he wasn’t a big fighter on the ice and didn’t have any prior hothead moments for them to build a reputation off of. Honestly, he was still too focused on the puck and getting to it before anyone else that he didn’t even consider decking an opponent or slamming them into the boards.

As long as nothing else happened, the whole incident could hopefully be forgotten.

“Do you think the town will have any issue with me being in the parade? You know—the hothead fighter rep that’s trying to stick to me?”

“Are you kidding?” Her expression was almost tender. “They think you’re a hero. They all know who’s inside Dezzie.”

He felt a weight lift off him, knowing there were some folks on his side. Folks whose respect he wanted to earn.

The floats lined up in front of them started crawling toward the exit from the football field staging grounds, and Leo hoped that the favors Violet had asked from Daisy-Mae would pay off for himself and the team.

“And if anyone mentions football, smile and wave and say ‘Go Torpedos!’” she coached.

“Right. Town’s team. Got it. Football all the way.” He glanced down at his Dragons jersey. Hopefully there were a few hockey fans watching the parade tonight.

Daisy-Mae hustled up and slid Violet’s earpiece into place, then disappeared again. No doubt,helping their friend Jenny with some finishing touches on her boutique’s float.

“And don’t let me get run over!” Violet added. She tilted her head toward the tractor behind them. It was lit up with spinning lights and advertised cattle feed.

“Wait,” Leo said, feeling panicked. “Didn’t you say there was some guy in town who drove his tractor when he was under the influence, in hopes of avoiding a ticket?” Was this old guy him? He seemed sober. A bit ancient, but sober.

“You’ll be fine.”

Leo picked up his pace, putting more distance between himself and the trailing tractor, hoping the parade didn’t end his career—or his life. He was wearing what he thought of as his lucky belt buckle tonight, but wasn’t sure if it would protect him from a tractor driver nodding off and flattening him by accident.

Violet flashed him a smile and lifted her dragon head, about to put it on. A swell of gratitude washed over him for the good friend she was, and the way things were going back to normal between them again.

“Vi!” He hurried to her side and she paused. “Everyone needs a friend like you. And I don’t know how to thank you for all of this. The connections you helped me make at the gala, and then this event, too.”

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