Page 8 of Sweet Trouble
“Are yousniffingthe wind?” Posey asked him suddenly.
“Yeah,” he admitted.
“Why?” she asked.
“I’m hoping to smell snow,” he told her.
“Doyou smell snow?” she asked, looking more delighted than he’d hoped.
“Not yet,” he told her. “But soon. When it’s close, you can sometimes taste it on the air.”
“Not really,” she said, laughing.
“Really,” he told her. “You’ll see. Now let’s fill that thing up.”
“You’re supposed to do the hose,” she told him, her eyes serious. “Kids can’t play with it. Mrs. Tailor said.”
“Oh, okay,” he said, trying to hide his smile at the idea of the hijinks he would have gotten up to with that hose when he was a kid, and wondering if Allie had also learned this one the hard way before she put her rule in place.
He turned on the hose, and Posey shoved the watering can underneath before he could adjust the pressure.
Before he could react, cold water splashed back up in her face, knocking her hat off and wetting her coat in the process.
Posey let out a little shriek.
“I’m so sorry,” Tripp said, dropping the hose immediatelyand turning to close the valve, bracing himself for her to start wailing.
Allie was going to be furious with him. It was one thing to let a kid get misted with hose spray, and another to practically submerge a little girl, especially in cold weather. And of course, everyone else at the school would roll their eyes and think he was making trouble on purpose.
That was the downside to staying in the same little town all your life—you made all your first impressions when you were just a stupid kid, and people never really changed their minds about you after that.
But as he turned back, Posey began to laugh. And he couldn’t help smiling himself at the sight of her.
She was wet as a seal from the neck up, her dark hair plastered to her head, green eyes dancing with mirth as she bent over laughing, the sound carrying far and wide in the crystalline air.
“You want me to do it again?” he joked, indicating the hose.
“Yes,”she crowed.
He was kind of impressed. She was a fearless little thing.
“How about you do me?” he offered instead. “A little revenge?”
Her eyes got big like she couldn’t believe he would really let her. But she nodded her head up and down, still giggling.
“Okay, then,” he told her. “But try not to getmy boots, okay?”
He was kidding, of course, his boots were weatherproof, as they had to be, given his choice of careers.
She snatched the hose out of his hand and was spraying him down the instant he turned the valve.
Tripp liked to think of himself as a pretty tough guy, but that water wascold.He yelped in surprise and Posey let out a cackle.
Then he pretended he was having a nice shower for a minute, which predictably cracked her up more.
“What’s going on out here?” a lady’s voice carried across the meadow.
Tripp whirled around and turned off the valve before slipping the hose out of Posey’s hands and turning to the source of the voice.
