by Anne Harper
“What the hell?” Brady repeated, this time to the women. Sloane’s face was red. “Are you okay?”
“She can’t talk loud because her other half is hiding in the utility closet,” Emma hurried. “So come over here and switch places with me before my shoulders fall right off, and then we’ll explain.”
Brady did as he was told. Sloane made a little yelp as he took her hands from Emma and transferred them to his shoulders.
“Thank God,” both women said at the same time.
Emma shook out her shoulders.
“Your height feels so much better,” Sloane added, voice just above a whisper. “No offense, Emma.”
“A lot taken, but only for the whole promising not to do something bad and somehow we did it anyway thing.”
Even though she said it, there was no real anger there. It reminded Brady of Dixon and him when they argued. Annoyance but none of real consequence.
Brady tried to look up at Sloane. Her hair fell against the top of his head. He couldn’t see her expression that well from the new angle beneath her, so he split the question between them.
“Can someone please tell me what’s going on and if we’re breaking the law?”
Emma stepped in close, lowering her voice to match. “Oh, we are absolutely breaking the law. Why do you think this one here tried to escape through a window so she wouldn’t get caught?”
“In my defense, I had no idea I’d picked the one window that’s higher than Willie Nelson,” Sloane muttered.
“Though I could have caught you had you not gone out headfirst and gotten your dang pants caught on the window!” Emma got loud on the last part. Sloane’s grip tightened on Brady’s shoulders.
“Hush,” Sloane spit out.
“You hush,” Emma spat back.
Yep. Definitely like him and Dixon.
“Both of you hush. Y’all can fight when one of you isn’t stuck in a window.”
Sloane and Emma acted like they’d sucked on a lemon. Both quieted. Brady realized that he had just experienced probably the only situation he’d ever be in where telling two southern women to hush was a moderately sane move.
“Okay, so I’m assuming you can’t shimmy yourself back into the room?” he asked the woman on his shoulders. He felt movement as she shook her head.
“We think her pants are caught on something weird on the inside sill,” Emma explained. “Before she got tired trying to balance at that awkward angle, she tried undoing whatever it was with her hands. When that didn’t work, I tried to pull her, but the blinds fell. So I don’t know what she’s really stuck on, but we were afraid it would break the window if we kept trying.”
“I also tried taking my pants off.” Sloane sighed. “Clearly it didn’t work.”
“And no one has caught y’all yet?” Brady had driven to the back lot as Emma instructed by connecting through the For Rent office of the next-door lot. That way, no one from the front of The Drinking Spot could see them. Still, surely someone on staff would make their way out to the parking lot at some point. A smoke break, a staff shift, or maybe curiosity at hearing someone wiggling around a window in one of their back rooms.
Emma shook her head. “The owner is running the bar before his bartender gets in at six. There’s only a cook in the kitchen. Thomas said they get really busy around five and ‘until then everyone coming in is a sweet, sweet bonus.’”
There was mild disgust in her tone. Brady felt it, too. Along with slight panic.
“Thomas Bleuth is here?” If he caught Brady in whatever was going on, it wouldn’t be pretty.
“Yeah, and he spent our entire meal hitting on Emma.”
“Which was why I was the perfect distraction. He assumed Sloane left, but she was actually sneaking into the back while I dazzled him with fake laughter and, like, one compliment.”
“But why?” Brady couldn’t believe how his afternoon was turning out. The women around him were acting like they’d gone on a grocery run and gotten a flat tire on the way back.
They should have been more concerned. Right?!
Before Brady could get any more answers or questions, a car came into view, driving through the parking lot the way Brady had come. He was two seconds from yanking Sloane out—adios, window and Sloane’s pants—and throwing both women into his truck and flooring it out of there, but Emma saw his expression and stilled him by holding out her hand.
“Right after I called you, Callum called, and I’m a terrible liar.”
Sloane sighed. “Holy cheesy fries, this is embarrassing.”
Callum parked on the other side of the girls, effectively blocking in their awkward situation, and jumped out with a look caught between wonder and worry. He wasn’t the only one. A young boy with giant glasses and a wide grin stepped out behind him. Brady assumed it was the boy he often watched over, Justus.
“What in the Sam Hill is going on?” Callum looked at Brady, who in turn shrugged. Sloane made a noise at the shift. He put his hands over hers, like it did anything to help.
“Don’t look at me. I only just got here,” Brady hurried. “But I think the gist is she’s hung up on something in the utility closet she was hiding in and we can’t pull her out until we get her off whatever it is.”
“Do the people inside know you’re hanging out their window?” Justus asked.
“No,” Brady answered for them. “And we want to keep it that way if we can, but we need to move fast.”
Callum nodded, same as Emma. Then everyone looked at him. Even Sloane’s hair shifted as she must have angled her chin down low to look, too.
Welp. Looks like you’ve been promoted to the leader now.
“Okay, we need someone to go into the room she’s in and get her undone. Then make it out through the front door again because there’s a camera pointed at the back door. You said you distracted Thomas before?” He looked at Emma. “Can you do it again, to make sure he doesn’t leave the front room?”
Emma straightened her shoulders and pushed her chest out. A warrior going into battle. “It’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel.”
Brady looked at Callum. “While she does that, do you think you could get into the back room? There’s only Thomas and the cook on shift right now, and both should stay in the front.”
Callum nodded without skipping a beat.
“Are the bathrooms near the room you’re in?” he asked Sloane.
“Yeah. They’re at the beginning of the hallway, and at the end is the storage room. I’m in a closet in that room.”
Callum looked guilty as sin. “If that’s the case, then I think I know a believable way to get back there without sneaking around.” He turned to Justus, who looked pumped as all get-out to be where he was. “Your mama is going to kill me.”
“When I’m unhooked, what happens?” Sloane asked. “I can’t just walk through the front door again. If Thomas sees me suddenly appear, he might wonder where the heck I’ve been, since we supposedly left earlier.”
Brady tried to see Sloane’s face, but it was too hard with the totem-pole-like stance they were in.
“You jump, I’ll catch. Deal?” he said.
There was a pause. Then, “Deal.”
Brady gave them a sweeping look. “Go team.”
Emma ran back to her car and parked behind the office next door, since apparently she hadn’t known Sloane was hanging out of a window when she’d first left, while Callum and Justus drove back through the same lot before looping around.
Then it was just the two of them.
One thing felt truer than true in that moment. Being around Sloane sure had made his life more interesting.
Still, Brady didn’t quite know what to say. After he’d gotten the call from Emma, he hadn’t waited a second to jump in his truck. The fact that Sloane was in some kind of trouble was enough. But
he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that Emma calling Sloane his “girlfriend” hadn’t added some fuel to the fire.
If Sloane hadn’t called off their arrangement to her best friend, then was it really what she wanted? For them to call it quits?
But now, standing in the back parking lot of his nemesis’s bar, Brady wondered if maybe he’d skimmed over a pretty important detail.
Maybe Sloane had been about to “out” them while giving his competitor a major PR boost by doing it publicly on The Drinking Spot’s property.
But then why was she hanging out of a window?
“I was spying.” Sloane’s words came out quick and soft.
“Come again?”
She shifted her weight between his shoulders. Brady found a spot to stare at on his truck and listened as she explained.
“We were driving by, and I saw the sign and figured you were right. I hadn’t really done a lot for the bar yet, so I thought we could check the place out and see what I was up against, you know? But then the damn owner walked up and started instantly bragging about the place and how what he had in the back room was going to help put that ‘hick bar’ out on its butt. So I kind of had to go look after that. But then someone was walking around, and I got spooked and tried to run.” She let out a long, low breath. “I panicked, got my big butt stuck in a damn window, and told Emma to call you. Sorry.”
Brady didn’t know which piece of information he wanted to tackle first. The fact that Sloane had been trying to help his bar, Thomas was bragging about having something that was going to hurt it, or Sloane had her friend call Brady first to come help.
So, instead of tackling any one point, he decided he needed to clear the air first.
“I should be the one saying sorry.” Brady couldn’t help but grin. “You’re a lot of things, Sloane De Carlo, but pathetic isn’t one of them. Not by a long shot. I might have said it, but I didn’t mean a word. I’m sorry.”
Sloane’s wall of hair shifted against him again. Brady wished he could look at her.
“And I don’t think you’re pathetic, either,” she said. “I’m sorry I let Carol get under my skin and turned against you.”
Just like that, the anxiousness Brady had been feeling finally eased off.
“Well, in case she tries again, just know that I don’t love Felicity. I mean, yes, I did, but I’ve completely moved on. I promise.”
“And just FYI, I don’t love Marcus anymore,” Sloane whispered. “I promise.”
Brady nodded. “Good. Glad we both cleared that up.”
“Yeah. Good.”
“So does that mean that we are good? You know, as a couple?”
He felt her movement through his shoulders as Sloane nodded.
“Yes,” she said. “Back to faking it.”
“Good.”
They lapsed into another silence. One that felt weirdly content, despite the fact that one of them was literally on top of the other. It wasn’t until Sloane made a little yip sound that Brady was jogged out of the feel-good vibes that had taken over.
“What’s going on?” he asked, ready to storm through the back door and fight off Thomas if he had to.
“It’s Justus.” Sloane wiggled around. Then she was talking in hurried whispers to the boy through the open window. When she cussed lower, Brady knew it was about to get interesting fast. She did some more wiggling until her hands left his shoulders altogether. “Get ready, Brady,” she warned him.
He didn’t get a chance to ask for what.
Sloane told Justus to pull.
Brady whirled around and looked up.
Never in his life would he have thought he’d be watching a grown woman fall out of a window, on purpose, with every intention of being caught by him.
But Sloane did just that.
And pants-less, to boot.
“Holy—”
Brady didn’t get a chance to say another word before Sloane was a ball of flailing limbs against him. If she hadn’t been so small and if he hadn’t been so big, they both would have hit the ground hard. Thankfully, Brady was able to stabilize them while swinging her around to hold like someone would a baby.
A baby who was wide-eyed and cussing.
When she realized she was okay, Sloane issued an order he was more than happy to follow.
“Let’s get out of here!”
Brady put her down and barely missed being hit by a pair of black flats. Justus’s head poked out of the window, and then he was gone.
No jeans floated down, so Brady scooped up the shoes and ran to the driver’s side of the truck, sliding in behind the wheel with a wild and giddy feeling. Like he was a teen again and had just managed to sneak out of his parents’ house.
Sloane must have been feeling it, too. She actually whooped as he sped away into the adjoining parking lot. She was still laughing when they made it to the main road.
“That guy is going to be so confused when he finds a pair of women’s jeans just hanging out in his utility closet,” she said around another bite of laughter. “I mean, I’m sad to sacrifice a pair of good jeans, but hot damn, can you imagine his face?”
Brady laughed. “Knowing Thomas’s reputation, he’ll just use them to tell his employees that he scored back there after hours.”
“Oh I hope not,” Sloane groaned. “I’d rather him just be hella confused.”
Emma called on the tail end of that thought, then Callum right after. Sloane gave him the lowdown as they turned in the direction of Arbor Bay.
Apparently while Emma was telling Thomas she’d come back for his number, he was less focused on being grumpy when a frantic Callum ran in with his “son,” who had a bathroom emergency. Once he and Justus got to the back hallway, Callum kept watch while the boy had gone to the utility closet.
“He said my pants were stuck on some weird-looking staples sticking out of the wood,” Sloane said. “He tried to undo them, but they didn’t budge. So he pulled while I wiggled, and, well, you saw the rest.”
Brady shook his head but smiled all the way through.
“You’re going to have to let me tell Dixon and Santana about this,” he said. “They’d collectively flip their lids.”
Sloane started like she’d been doused with a bucket of ice and jumped in her seat. Brady didn’t think she’d thought about what being pants-less really meant. He’d already glanced at her polka-dot panties, which were still very much visible.
They were cute.
They were also distracting.
“Oh! By the way. Thomas’s secret weapon was a new drink menu with a section called Always Happy Hour and seriously discounted drinks. I saw it before I hid. I took a picture, too.”
Brady sighed. That definitely wasn’t good news. Cassidy’s Place couldn’t afford to do any more discounts than they already did.
Warmth enveloped Brady’s hand as Sloane grabbed it. She gave one squeeze and was nothing but smiles.
“But don’t worry. I know exactly how we’re going to beat him. All I need is you to be somewhat okay with possibly being shirtless. Heck, maybe even pants-less. And maybe covered in glitter.”
Brady raised his eyebrow in question at that.
“Come again?”
Chapter Twenty
“Happy Wednesday, boys and girls, and welcome to Cassidy’s first-ever fashion show!”
The patrons in attendance had their chairs turned to face the stage and the makeshift runway leading from the bar to where Santana was standing. Once she’d heard Sloane’s plan to drum up some enthusiasm for the festival kickoff party and the bar in general, she had doubled down on cheer. Probably because she liked giving grief to her best friends and, considering Brady was the sole competitor in the fashion show, she was going to get a night full of chances.
Santana wrapped her hand around the mic stand and
accepted the hoots from the crowd.
Though “crowd” was a generous description. While there were more people than usual filling the room, according to Dixon, most of the men were regulars. Friends who wanted to see their longtime bartender loosen up while embarrassing himself. And the women? Well, most had seen Sloane’s posts online the day before and were either curious about what that meant or just wanted to see Brady shirtless.
For that reason alone, Ms. Peggy was seated at a table closest to the stage, Emma and Callum on either side. Santana had a seat saved next to Callum. Her phone was on top of the table, ready to record.
Much to Brady’s immense displeasure.
“We thank you for coming and can’t wait to get started,” Santana continued, really leaning in to her role as emcee. “First, let’s go over the rules and how you can help our favorite grumpy bartender win the esteemed title of King of Arbor Bay!”
She pointed to the whiteboard they’d wheeled in and placed at the back of the stage, thanks to Emma. There was only one category written on it in black—fashion—but it had several subsections ready to be scored.
“Brady will strut his stuff, showcasing several flattering outfits,” she continued. “Our job is to choose which ones he wears for the About Me portion of the pageant, the themed costume walk, and then what he’ll wear during the talent section.” She found Sloane standing at the mouth of the hallway and pointed at her. “And remember, we must be somewhat kind, considering Sloane here will be forced to be onstage with him during the costume and talent portions!”
Sloane chuckled as the crowd let her know through a wave of voices and laughter that there was no way in hell they were going easy on Brady for her sake.
“Now, we’ll be starting in five minutes, so make sure you grab a drink before we get down to business!”
Several people got up and made their way to Dixon behind the bar. Santana hurried over to help while Sloane took the break to go back and check on the star of the impending show.
She knocked on the office’s closed door. Brady’s loud and extremely grumpy voice came through with ease.
