by Anne Harper
But him clearly loving that he knew her?
To Sloane, that showed her a man who might still be in love with his ex.
The second? While Brady knew Felicity without hesitation, Sloane was nothing but hesitation when it came to knowing Brady. Sure, their relationship wasn’t real, but it still weirdly hurt that she’d had a one out of three chance of getting the answer right. Yet she hadn’t. And Felicity had.
None of it should have been surprising, and none of it should have made her heart squeeze just a little.
But it had, and it did.
Now Sloane had a feeling she was going to feel like an outcast again. And she hated it.
Then do something about it, Sloanie girl.
She straightened her back, rolled her shoulders, and ignored her rising adrenaline.
“One, I once catered a wedding where I caught the groom cheating with the bride’s sister. Two, Emma and I have matching Beetlejuice tattoos hidden very well on our bodies. And three—” Sloane finally looked at Brady. His eyebrow rose. “I’m about to jump in the water because hot damn it’s humid out here.”
Brady smirked. “Well, I know which one of those I hope is true.”
Sloane didn’t wait for anyone else to comment.
She wasn’t like Felicity or Carol or Marcus. There wasn’t an abundance of self-confidence she could pull out lickety-split and wear like a suit of armor. However, one thing she knew about herself that was damn near bulletproof at the moment?
Impulse decisions.
Sloane stood, stripped off her cover-up, and walked past everyone to the edge of the boat. She gave her audience a sweeping look.
Marcus and Felicity were smiling. Carol looked annoyed. Ruby was looking at Carol for what her emotional response should be.
Brady was taking off his shirt, forest-green eyes firmly on her.
They might not have known each other well, but, in that moment, Sloane knew exactly what the bartender was about to do.
She laughed as she jumped out into the dark blue water. Before she could surface, she heard Brady make a splash right behind her.
Chapter Fifteen
“You could belly dance, and I could swing flaming swords around you?”
Sloane ran a hand over her slicked-back hair and let Brady know straight up that there weren’t going to be any flaming swords anywhere near her at the pageant. Or just in life in general.
“How about you belly dance, and I just pull up a chair and watch with the crowd?”
Brady laughed into the water. “I don’t know about that, sweet cakes.”
Since Sloane had jumped into the water, the group had somewhat gone on to do their own things. Marcus had beached the boat and then spent time lounging in the shallow water with Felicity. Carol and Ruby had taken their lounging to the small strip of sand that curved against Floater’s Cove. They’d also taken several selfies before starting a natural tanning session on their matching designer towels. Sloane and Brady, on the other hand, had opted to switch between standing in and treading water out of earshot of the group while finally addressing the Arbor Bay–size elephant in their shared room.
The Sailors and Mermaids Pageant…and the much-dreaded talent portion.
It was better than being grumpy at a game of Two Truths and a Lie. Sloane had decided to let that bad feeling dissolve into the water, since they had bigger fish to fry.
“We should keep it nautical-themed,” Sloane tried. “Something we can do wearing mermaid and sailor costumes. Really on-the-nose stuff that’s all flashy so they don’t notice right away that we have no talent.”
“Hey, I know you aren’t lumping me in with you right there.” Brady brought his hand to his chest, causing a ripple across the surface of the water. “Because I have talent.”
Sloane gave him a questioning look. One she knew was filled with nothing but sarcasm.
“Oh, really? Tell me, then. What, Mr. Knox, are your talents?”
Brady did an eyebrow wiggle. One that screamed of a sexy answer with a dose of teasing. Normally Sloane would have taken a beat or two, flamed red, and then stumbled over her words. But since she’d just stripped and literally jumped overboard to avoid playing a game with Carol and Co.?
Something had changed.
She didn’t know what it was or if it was temporary, but Sloane did know one thing.
There was no way she was going to be caught at the pageant with their metaphorical pants down.
Sloane splashed him. “Nothing that constitutes an eyebrow wiggle is going to be appropriate on a stage,” she said. “I can almost guarantee you that.”
Brady laughed again. He’d been doing it more and more throughout the day. Sloane couldn’t help but like when she was the cause of it.
“Okay, okay. Fine,” he relented. “Let’s see…as far as talents that two people can do onstage that are rated PG…” He made a face after a moment. “Well, shit, I have no idea.”
“Here, let’s take this approach. Instead of two truths and a lie, let’s say three things we’re really good at and see if we can’t get something from that.”
Brady nodded, then dipped underwater. When he popped back up, Sloane’s libido made it slow-motion. This was the third time she had seen the man bare and wet. It still didn’t disappoint.
His hair, dark now from the water, looked different but good slicked back. Like he’d styled it for a night out at the opera or some fancy gala. One where he’d don a three-piece suit and a trendy pocket square that he would, no doubt, complain about.
Then there was that toned upper body Sloane had already admired. Even though the two of them were bobbing around in water that covered up most of him, Sloane was still getting an uninhibited view of his pecs and up.
And when all of that had water pouring off it, glinting in the summer sun?
Well goodness gracious if that wasn’t some kind of modern, awe-inspiring art.
Brady ran his hand over his face and then mussed that slicked-back hair she’d only just admired in thought.
“Three things I’m good at,” he started. “I always thought it looked stupid when bartenders slung shakers around when making drinks…so I learned how to do it to spite them all. Though I can only juggle shakers, nothing else. Glasses? I break them. Knives? Nearly lost a finger. It’s just shakers. Something Dixon has always dogged me about.”
“I can’t juggle,” Sloane was quick to interject. “In fact, I’m not even that great at throwing and catching anything. My dad tried really hard to teach me, but that is a skill this one has never come close to mastering.”
“So what’s one thing you have mastered?”
Sloane felt like a total loser because she didn’t even flinch.
“You know the big scene in Flashdance? In front of the judges? I can do that. Every step, every twist, every move.”
Brady’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth in a giant smile but didn’t say anything. Sloane lowered herself until the water was at her chin, slightly embarrassed.
“My mom was obsessed with it, and, well, I became obsessed, too. But if it’s all the same to you, I don’t think I’ll ever be emotionally, mentally, or physically able to do that in public. Definitely not on a stage.”
“And does that go for all dancing onstage or—?”
“All dancing onstage is a no-go for me.”
Brady shrugged. “Had to try.”
He lowered himself in the water to lessen their height difference. It was a weirdly sweet move that Sloane wasn’t even sure he’d done on purpose. Still, it made her smile. If he noticed the change, Brady didn’t say. Instead, his eyebrows drew in together, creating an ultimate look of focus.
She had a feeling she wasn’t the only one who wanted to throw down at the pageant.
“Everything I would consider myself really good at is bar-related,�
� he finally decided. “Slinging mixers, making drinks—”
“Keeping the secrets of women who have had too many of those drinks.”
He snorted. “Yeah, but none of these is a skill that I think can wow at a pageant. What’re your other two things?”
“I’m really good at old-school arcade games like Donkey Kong. And haven’t lost a game of ping-pong since I was sixteen.” Sloane laughed before she could finish talking. “Holy waffle fries. We are so screwed, aren’t we?”
“Well, we certainly aren’t going to win the grand prize of that fancy, oversize trophy at this rate.”
“Or let the town know we’re fun and remind them that Cassidy’s Place is fun, too.”
They swam around for a few more minutes, throwing out suggestions from movies they’d seen and real-life pageants. No suggestions really landed. Sloane was ready to give up, wondering if it would be easier if the pageant didn’t call for couples to do a talent together, when Brady asked an innocent and reasonable question.
“Ms. Peggy said your parents were in the pageant back in the day, right? What was their talent?”
Sloane’s heart ached and swelled and tore just a bit all at once. If the water hadn’t been gently swaying her, she would have frozen in place, totally caught off guard.
Loss and grief were funny like that. She knew they only hurt her because of the love she felt, but it never made a memory easier to visit. No matter how many years went by. Sometimes it made being in their childhood home tricky; sometimes it made being in Arbor Bay even more so. For every good memory of Art and Stella De Carlo, there was the blaring fact that there was no way to make new memories with them.
There hadn’t been since Sloane was fifteen, and there never would be again.
Now, thrown back into a past conversation with her mother, thanks to Brady’s totally normal question, Sloane was reminded that he hadn’t know her wild, fun-loving parents. And they would never know him.
This time she was sure Brady had noticed the change in her. Sloane didn’t want to explain, so she fought to embrace the humor in her answer and not the familiar ache of loss that had reared its ugly head again.
“They were in the pageant,” she confirmed. “But I don’t think what they did will work for us. See, my parents had been dating a while at the time, and my mom wanted them to finally move in with each other. Dad, who was a self-proclaimed commitment-phobe, freaked out. So much so that he actually ignored her for a few days leading up to the pageant. Then, when he showed up and tried to apologize for bugging out, she said they would do the pageant because she’d already committed to it, but after that? No way, José. They were through.” The ache in her chest softened. The swell of love became easier to feel. This was a good memory. One her mother had absolutely loved.
Sloane continued with a grin. “They had this dance routine they’d practiced for their talent, but Dad decided to scrap it as soon as they got onstage. Instead he sat my mom down on one of the props and sang ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ by Bonnie Tyler to her. A cappella.”
Brady laughed out in surprise. “No way.”
Sloane nodded, trying not to laugh herself. “Yes way.”
Brady whistled.
“Oof. That’s a rough song choice. I probably would have left the building. Those high notes are like nails on a chalkboard.”
“Well, Dad thought it was worth doing for love. He even sang the high notes. No music. Just him. Mom said it was so embarrassing, but Dad stood by his reasoning that it was the only way she’d see he was all in, despite being clueless at first.”
“And I’m guessing, since I’ve met you and your brother, that it smoothed things over between them?”
“Definitely. Mom said he could have stopped at the chorus and she would have forgiven him. It was the single weirdest and sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. They were married six months later.”
“What a power move,” he said, all admiration. That quickly changed into a stern look. “But you don’t dance onstage ever, and I don’t sing onstage ever, okay? No one wants to hear me try to carry a tune. Not even me.”
Sloane agreed, and they took singing and dancing in public off the table. She let her attention wander over to the beach. Marcus and Felicity had set themselves up on chairs they’d pulled from the boat. So far, Sloane couldn’t deny that they seemed to be a good match. They talked and laughed together almost constantly, even when no one was close to them.
“You know, we never asked what it was they were doing for their talent. We could go over there and hang out? See if we can’t get it out of them.”
Part of Sloane wanted to know what their competition was thinking, but the louder, more insistent part of her had decided the idea had an ulterior motive behind it.
She wanted to know how Brady would react to the idea of being near Felicity again. Not even the cold water could wash away the feeling that she was an outsider when it came to the two. That they were still on the same page while Sloane wasn’t even in the same book.
The last few days, Brady had been at Sloane’s side. From yard work to painting to forced social events, they’d been together. He had to be getting tired of it being just the two of them, right?
Well, duh, Sloane. It’s Brady. He clearly isn’t a fan of most people.
That feeling of being out of sync with the bartender deepened before he could even respond.
“Eh.” He shrugged, all nonchalant. “Honestly, I’d rather keep doing what we’re doing.”
Sloane dipped down into the water again. This time to hide her smile.
…
All attempts to find a common talent for the pageant turned into finally joining the beach bums. True to what he told Sloane, Brady had been happy to have their own little area away from the others.
It was just easy being around Sloane.
Brady didn’t know what “it” was, but he knew he was starting to like the feeling.
Just as he was starting to really like how fun it was to get to know her better.
“So, when all this is over, you’re headed back to the service industry, huh?” Brady had his arm slung over his eyes, blocking out the sun. His swimsuit was almost dry from the heat, but it still felt nice to lounge. The smell of coconut from Sloane’s sunscreen was the cherry on top.
“Yes and no. I work at a florist shop that has a few standing deals with wedding venues around Nashville. So, when she works a wedding, I’m her liaison of sorts. But since that isn’t a full-time job, I’ve also been building up contacts and networking by doing odd jobs with a catering company and some of the venues directly. Most of the time I get double-booked for the same event by both Mrs. Baker and the catering company. It’s a bit chaotic, but I truly love it. So much so that, if this blog turns into a book, I hope to become co-owner at the florist shop and then, when I’m ready, open my own business. It’s stressful, but before I was juggling it all, I worked a job as a communications specialist for a local campaigning company. I tried to build a decent savings account, but, holy crinkle fries, that was a shit show and a half. I might not be in full control with Mrs. Baker’s shop or when I’m running around for others, but at least I still get to do what I love. Not so much with that last one.”
“You also have time to write on your blog, apparently.”
Sloane snorted. It made Brady feel like he was rubbing off on her. She was starting to be more cavalier with how she held herself around him.
“Fun fact: I actually haven’t written a blog post in almost five months.”
That was a fun fact. He had pictured her sitting in bed and writing away on her laptop every night before bed. Not not writing.
Brady uncovered his eyes and peeked over at the woman. It was a mistake.
Sloane De Carlo was wearing the hell out of a swimsuit. Two-piece, black, simple.
Delectable.
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br /> The contrast against her skin, the curves it highlighted, and the tiniest of strings keeping it all together had slowly been driving him mad since she’d thrown off her coverup on the boat. Standing and swimming in the water after that had made it easier to pretend the only thing between her skin and his was a few swaths of thin, thin fabric. Now, though? Sloane was lying on her back, towel over her eyes, her smooth skin winking up at the sun.
Brady gave a little headshake to no one but himself.
She might have run away to Arbor Bay, but it was clear the life she wanted was back in Nashville. Even if their relationship was real, it wouldn’t last.
He loved his life right where it was.
So, thinking about starting something with Sloane?
Not part of the plan.
But if I kissed her, would she taste like coconut?
“Really?” Brady recovered, clearing his throat. “I thought since it went viral, the blog had a lot of new posts.”
“Nope. The only new thing I did was change the privacy setting. The rest? Well, I have no idea. It happened—and I guess still is happening—so fast.”
“Why change it to public, then?” That was one thing Brady had been curious about since he’d started spending time with her. She seemed to err more on the shy side than the outspoken. If the blog was all her secrets and stories and things that made her go atomic cherry red, why publish it to a potentially massive crowd of strangers in the first place?
Sloane sighed, a movement that went through her entire body. Brady had to look away so he’d actually hear her versus staring slack-jawed.
“Do you want the truth? Because it’s kind of pathetic.”
“I’ve handled all your other truths pretty well so far.”
She removed the shirt over her face and rolled onto her side, facing him. Her eyes skirted across him to Marcus and Felicity, who were back in the water.
“I heard through the gossip grapevine about those two getting engaged, and, well, after that, the blog didn’t really feel real anymore.” She lowered her voice. It was unnecessary but effective. Brady rolled onto his side to face her and propped his head up with his hand to listen.
