Page 42 of A Spot of Trouble
“What a nice surprise,” Hazel gushed. “I thought you had to work tonight.”
Wait. What was happening? Were Sam and Hazel on adate?
Violet shook her head as if to rattle the idea completely out of her thoughts. They couldn’t possibly be together. Who handed out fire code violations on a date?
No one, except maybe a man who ironed his cargo pants and had a history of shutting down bingo night. Sam was like a firefighter action hero. He probably wasn’t capable of going on a proper date without bringing along his pink notepad.
Violet’s stomach churned—this time not in a fluttery, swoony sort of way but in a manner that felt distinctly green-eyed-monsterly. She didn’t like it. Not one bit.
“Actually, Hazel, I”—Sam cast a fleeting glance at Violet and then seemed to do a double-take. His lips twitched again, like they always seemed to do when he was trying not to laugh.
Clearly he was amused by whatever emotions were written on Violet’s face.
“Am I interrupting something?” Hazel said, glancing back and forth between them while her manicured fingertips remained clamped around Sam’s bicep.
“I’m afraid so,” Sam said.
At the exact same time, Violet flicked her culinary torch back on and said, “Nope.”
Forget taking the high road, especially if Sam was going to date the librarian…or anyone else in Turtle Beach.
Sam glared at the tiny blue flame. “Give us a minute, please, Hazel.”
“Oh,” she said flatly. “Sure.”
Once she was gone, Sam took a deep breath that reeked of long-suffering. “Violet, I’m going to give you one more chance to put that thing away.”
“I don’t think so,” Violet said and proceeded to run the torch over the top of a cupcake until the meringue turned a perfect golden brown. Then she offered the cupcake to Sam. “This one’s on the house.”
“I’m going to pass, thanks.” He began aggressively scribbling on his pink notepad.
“Are you sure? Your date might want it,” Violet said.
Sam’s pen stopped moving. “Hazel and I are not on a date. We had a miscommunication.”
“Oh.” Violet put the cupcake back down on the table, and somewhere in the periphery, she was vaguely aware of a flash of black-and-white spots.
When she glanced down, the cupcake had vanished, as had both Sprinkles and Cinder. Two wagging Dalmatian tails poked out from beneath the polka dot tablecloth.
Violet fully expected Sam to put an immediate stop to their antics, but instead he handed her the citation and regarded her through narrowed eyes. “If Hazel and Ihadbeen on a date, would it have bothered you?”
The back of Violet’s neck went impossibly hot. How dare he ask her that question.
She took the pink slip of paper and crumpled it into a ball. She had half a mind to burn it right there in front of him. “Not in the slightest.”
The corners of Sam’s eyes crinkled, and he flashed her a knowing smile—too knowing, truth be told. Then he said just one word before he turned to leave.
“Liar.”
Chapter 10
Violet’s jealousy was written all over her face. Sam probably shouldn’t have found it as amusing as he did, but he couldn’t help it. Watching her pretend not to care if he dated Hazel the librarian was as delicious as any of the fancy cupcakes she was so famous for. Maybe even more so. Sam couldn’t be sure because thus far, he’d yet to actually try one of her sugary confections. He’d come close, but something always seemed to get in the way. He looked forward to the day he‘d finally get to take a bite.
Alas, today would not be that day. He couldn’t exactly give her a citation for wielding a culinary torch—which, make no mistake about it, was indeed a contraband incendiary device according to the Turtle Beach fire code—and then sample the illegal by-product of her crime. So once Sam called Violet on her bluff, he strode away from her heady cloud of zesty lemon and spun sugar feeling achingly dissatisfied.
It wasn’t the first time he’d experienced that particular sensation after being in Violet’s presence, which was a fact Sam preferred not to dwell on.
At least Cinder had the decency to scramble out from beneath the tablecloth and follow him as he made his way back toward the overflow area on the senior center’s front patio. Sam and Griff had already gotten the tables, chairs, and PA system all set up, so technically they could both head home. Sam was reluctant to do so, despite giving Hazel the wrong impression by turning up at bingo. If he left now, Violet would probably fire up her culinary torch again before he and Cinder made it as far as the intersection of Seashell Drive and Pelican Street.
