Third Time's the Charm (3 page)

Her kitchen faucet no longer leaked, but Liz still slept
poorly. It had been a week since Sloane had fixed the sink, a week of blessed
silence, and a week of conflicting emotions. She thought about his family, his
business, his ex-wife, his former father-in-law, his aunt that was a single
mom, and everything he’d said to her.
Call me anytime,
whispered through
her mind.

She thought it might fade, and she’d think about him less
and less with each passing day, but it wasn’t happening as it was supposed to.
The sun was barely coming up when Liz finally got out of bed. She gave up on
sleeping and decided that maybe if she exercised, she could count on better
sleep tonight. But following the moves on her yoga DVD didn’t make her feel
much better.

It was Thursday, and predictably, Mrs. Peterson showed up at
ten in the morning at the salon. Liz shampooed and styled her client’s hair,
getting into the soothing routine. Mrs. Peterson even walked out with a smile
on her face. The door opened, and Liz looked over to see who the next client
was.

Sloane stood inside the doorway, hesitating, and looking
around. His gaze caught hers, and he gave a faint smile. Josi, the lady at the
reception desk, greeted him. “Do you have an appointment?”

Sloane glanced from Josi to Liz, then back to Josi. “Does
Liz have an opening today?”

Liz froze. He was here for a haircut? Flashes of Garrett
entered her mind, and she felt her stomach twist. Garrett had been sweet and
mellow at first . . . She had cut his hair every four weeks, and then  . . .
Liz turned and walked into the back room, not wanting to hear what Josi told
him.

Her throat was dry, and she couldn’t quite breathe normally.
What’s wrong with me? He’s not asking me out, and so what if he does? I can
say no.

“Liz!” Josi called, coming into the back room. “Someone
named Sloane wants to book you for your next appointment. I told him you don’t
have an opening for two hours, but he said he’d wait.” She wagged her
finely-tweezed black eyebrows.

“Tell him you were mistaken, and I don’t have an opening
today.”

“So you
know
this guy?” Her mouth drew into a smile.
“Someone you’re dating? He’s pretty cute.”

“Please, Josi. Help me out. I’ll take on your Saturday shift
if you just do this for me.”

Josi pursed her lips. “Is he a creep or something?”

“No, not at all. I just . . .” She shook her head. “I’m
crazy and dumb, and I don’t know what I’m doing, so it’s better to keep away
from all males.”

Josi laughed. “Okay, I totally get it. You have a crush on
him, but since you’ve sworn off dating—”

Liz groaned. She’d been much too forthright with Josi about
her previous dating snafus.

Josi disappeared through the door. Liz sank onto a chair
amid the hair coloring boxes and shampoos and conditioners. She let her head
drop into her hands. She needed to talk to Gemma. But first, she needed to
figure out a way to apologize to Sloane. She was a professional hairdresser and
shouldn’t let her weird hang-ups get in the way.

The back door opened, and Liz looked up, expecting to see Josi.

“Hey,” Sloane said, the door swinging shut behind him. He
shoved his hands in his pockets, looking a bit unsure of himself, which Liz
found absolutely adorable. “Just wanted to say I’m sorry for barging in and not
letting you know in advance.”

Liz wanted to melt into the chair. Instead, she stood and
met his gaze. “No,
I’m
sorry. I didn’t expect to see you . . . here. And
I just . . .” She took a deep breath. “This may sound weird, but Garrett used
to come in here to get his hair cut. That’s how we met.”

Sloane lifted a brow. “Druggie-drummer?”

“No, gamer.”

“Ah, I get it,” Sloane said in a slow voice. “So if you cut
my hair, then maybe we’d start dating?”

Liz’s face flamed. “I didn’t think
that
.” She was
mortified and couldn’t think of how to explain. Or maybe it
was
what
she’d thought.

“Don’t feel bad,” Sloane said, taking a step forward. “I
really didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I have to be honest.”

Liz snapped her eyes to his, her heart nearly pounding out
of her chest.

“I did come here with the intention of asking you out. But I
thought maybe I’d see how it went first and how good of a haircut you gave me.”

She stared at him, her mouth tugging into a smile. “So it
was dependent on the service?”

“Which I know would be great.”

Liz relaxed a bit. “And how can you know that, Mr. Branden?”

“I can just tell.” He took a step forward.

She held her breath. Her heart rate doubled. He was also
standing much too close to her.

“So if you want to skip the haircut, that’s fine with me,”
he said, his gaze holding hers. “I can just ask you out without any pretense.”

“Okay,” she said, hardly daring to believe she’d agreed.

“Perfect.” He reached for her hand, lifted and kissed it.
Then he winked.

Liz was no stranger to kissing, but Sloane kissing her on
the back of the hand like a gentleman was extremely romantic.

“How about tomorrow at seven?” he said.

“All right,” Liz said, her voice faint in her ears.

Sloane smiled and squeezed her hand. “By the way, you’re
beautiful when you blush.” He released her hand and walked out the door.

“Are you kidding me?” Liz said to her daughter. She’d fixed
Paisley’s favorite meal of chicken nuggets and mac and cheese, but the kid
refused to eat. Paisley’s mouth drew into a pout, and her eyes squeezed shut.

“The babysitter will be here in ten minutes. Eat now, or you
don’t get any ice cream, Paisley-girl.” Why did her daughter’s stubbornness
have to be in full force tonight? Liz needed her fed and happy by the time
Sloane arrived.

Liz wanted Paisley to be on her best behavior. But she’d
been cranky since coming home from school, and Liz figured if she got a decent
dinner into her, she’d perk up.

Suddenly Paisley lurched forward and threw up all over the
table. She burst into tears.

Liz stared at the mess, stunned. Then she jumped into
action. “Come here, baby.” She pulled off Paisley’s soiled clothing and dropped
the shirt and pants into the sink. Then she picked her up and carried her into
the bathroom. She set her shivering daughter in the bathtub, while she adjusted
the water temperature. “Sit down while the tub fills up.”

Liz hurried out of the bathroom and cleaned up the mess in
the kitchen. The smell was awful, so she opened the window and lit a scented
candle. The night was over anyway. There was no way she could leave Paisley
now, and her mom was too far away to call at the last minute.

She went back into the bathroom and turned off the water.
Just then the doorbell rang, and Liz hurried to the door. Brittney stood there,
with Sloane coming up the stairs. Brittney was late; Sloane was early.

“So sorry, Britt. Paisley’s sick. Let me pay you anyway.”
She handed money over to the thirteen-year-old. Then she turned to Sloane, who certainly
overheard everything.

“Is there anything I can do?” he said.

Liz leaned against the door frame. “I should have known it
when she came home so cranky from school. She just threw up, so I’m sure I’m in
for a long night.”

“I can go get some Popsicles and a movie. My mom used to get
us Popsicles when we were sick.”

Liz smiled. “I don’t think you’d want to be around her
germs.”

“Ask Paisley if she wants a Popsicle, and see what she
says.”

Since he seemed completely serious, Liz shrugged. “All right.
Wait here—the place needs to fumigate.” She left Sloane at the door and walked
to the bathroom. She could hardly believe that Sloane wanted to become involved
in this.

Paisley was lying back in the water, her hair submerged.

“Hey Paisley, do you want a Popsicle?” Liz asked.

She sat up and nodded, her face pale.

“Are you sure?” Liz said. “My friend Sloane said he’d get
one for you if you want it.”

“Okay, but it has to be purple.”

Liz smiled. “All right, Paisley-girl.” When she left the
bathroom and walked down the hall, Sloane was still in the doorway. Apparently
he didn’t scare off too easily. “She said yes, as long as it’s purple.”

“All right, I’ll be back soon.” He took off down the stairs
before Liz could change her mind.

By the time Sloane returned, Paisley was bundled up on the
couch, her little face looking less pale.

Paisley watched Sloane as he came in. Then she turned to
Liz, her eyes wide. “Mom, it’s the Band-Aid man!”

Liz smiled. “Yep.”

Paisley straightened up as Sloane crossed to the couch and knelt
down in front of her to show the box of Popsicles. “Sorry you’re feeling sick.
I don’t think Band-Aids will fix this one.”

A smile emerged from Paisley. Watching them, Liz thought of
how she’d kept the other men she’d dated out of sight from Paisley. Liz knew
her daughter barely remembered Garrett; he’d left when she was four. And that
was almost three years ago. But Sloane was different, namely because Paisley
already knew who he was.

“What color do you want?” Sloane said to Paisley.

“Purple!”

“I thought you might.” He looked up at Liz and smiled. Apparently
he wasn’t germ-a-phobic.

Liz thought her heart might melt.
I need to text Gemma.
Instead, Liz picked up the movie rental Sloane had left on the side table. “
Brave
?”

“Have you seen it?” Sloane asked, looking at Paisley.

She nodded. “But I want to see it again.”

“She’s only seen it once,” Liz said, marveling that Sloane
would get a definite kid movie—a Disney one at that. “Which means we can still
watch it at least three more times.”

Sloane chuckled. “Don’t give away the ending then. I haven’t
seen it yet.”

Which means he’s staying?
Apparently he is.
Sloane settled on one side of Paisley, leaving the other side of the couch or
the overstuffed chair as the only options for Liz.

She crossed the room and put the DVD in. A glance in
Sloane’s direction made her realize he looked pretty comfortable in her living
room, sitting next to her daughter. Sloane had unwrapped a purple Popsicle for
Paisley and a red one for himself.

Liz’s heart flipped. She sat on the other side of Paisley,
trying not to think about how normal it felt to have Sloane in her living room,
although she was profoundly aware of his every movement. Tonight he wore jeans
and a dark blue button-down. No tie.

Paisley leaned against her and fell asleep about thirty
minutes into the movie.

“Do you want me to carry her to bed?” Sloane asked.

“Are you sure?”

He cracked a smile. “Do you ever let anyone help you without
giving them the chance to back out?”

Heat rushed to her face. “Not sure that I do.”

Sloane stood and lifted Paisley easily in his arms. Liz led
the way to her room and turned down the Cinderella comforter. Once Sloane had
her settled, he straightened and glanced about the room. “Disney fan?”

Liz followed his gaze. Disney princess decals decorated the
walls, and character Beanie Babies were lined up on the pink shelves. Liz
noticed Paisley’s closet door was open. Before she could shut it, Sloane had
walked over.

“Wow. Looks like a warehouse.”

Liz shut the door firmly. “I just like to organize the few
items I find on clearance.”

“The
few
items?” He smiled. “Like two dozen tubes of
Colgate?”

“They were only fifty cents each,” Liz said and pushed him
out of the room.

Once in the hallway, he turned and caught her hand. Maybe
she shouldn’t have pushed him—he’d been encouraged by the physical touch.

“Doesn’t toothpaste have an expiration date?” he asked.

Liz’s cheeks heated, but she didn’t know if it was from his
teasing or from his hand on hers. “Maybe.”

He laughed, then quieted as if he remembered Paisley
sleeping in the next room. He tugged her hand and pulled her down the hall. He
didn’t let go when he sat down in the middle of the couch, giving her no choice
but to sit right next to him.

“So, are you hungry?” His fingers threaded through hers,
making her pulse hammer.

She hadn’t expected any of this to happen tonight. Not
Paisley sick, not sitting on her couch together with him, not holding hands.

“I could go grab something or call delivery.” With his other
hand he thumbed through his phone contacts. “There’s a Thai place close by that
delivers.”

Tell him you’re tired and send him home. Paisley might
wake up soon anyway.
Instead, Liz said, “Never tried Thai food, but I’m
game.”

“Really?”

“I have a six-year-old who only eats about three things.”

He smiled and hit the CALL button, then mouthed, “Do you
like noodles or rice?”

“Uh—don’t really know. Which is better?”

“I’ll order a couple of things, then you can decide what you
like. Are you allergic to peanuts?”

She shook her head. Liz wasn’t sure she could pronounce what
Sloane ordered. When he got off the phone, she said, “So is Thai the one with a
ton of curry?”

“Yeah, but I ordered the mild stuff. We’ll break you in easy.”
He squeezed her hand.

They turned their attention back to the movie, and Liz was
hyper-aware that Sloane was still holding her hand. He didn’t make any other
moves, just sat there as though it were no big deal and totally normal.
Maybe
I’m the only one freaking out.

When the doorbell rang, Liz cringed, hoping that it wouldn’t
wake up Paisley. Sloane stood and crossed the room to open the door. He
accepted the large sack of food and paid the delivery kid.

Liz pulled the coffee table closer to the couch. “We can
just eat in here.” She stood to grab some drinks, and by the time she returned,
Sloane had all of the food arranged. It smelled delicious.

Sloane named the different selections, and she put a little
of each on her plate. Everything tasted good, but her definite favorite was one
of the chicken dishes. “What’s this one again?”

“Coconut massaman.” His phone buzzed, and he checked the
incoming call.

“I think it’s my favorite.” She looked down at her plate and
pointed to a long-noodle entrée. “Then this one.”

“That’s the Pad Thai, definitely my favorite.” His phone
rang, and he sent it to voice mail. “Damn.”

“What’s wrong?”

He looked up, as if startled she’d overheard him.

“Oh, sorry. It’s Darci. She has the worst timing.”

His ex-wife is calling him?
Liz wasn’t sure how long
they’d been divorced but it seemed like a few years at least.

He turned back to his food and continued eating, ignoring
another incoming text. Liz felt as if she’d been punched with an ice-cold fist.
The evening had been pretty near perfect, unexpectedly so, and Sloane had been
great. But knowing his ex was trying to get in touch with him made Liz’s
stomach knot. It was like Garrett all over again.

On the fourth text, he finally picked up his phone. “I’d
better call her back or there won’t be a minute’s silence.”

Liz watched as he stood and walked to the door, then opened
it and went out onto the landing. The door swung shut behind him, and Liz felt
the cozy evening crash around her like sharp splinters. It seemed Sloane was
still tied to his ex enough that he couldn’t put off any of her phone calls.

Liz shoved away the food, not hungry anymore.
Brave
was
nearly over, the bear chase scene mirroring the chaos of emotions in her body.
By the time Sloane came back in, Liz had switched off the movie, turned on the
overhead light, and packed the food into the take-out containers. Sloane could
take it all home with him.

“The movie is over already?” Sloane asked, shutting the
front door behind him. His gaze went to the cleaned-up table, then to Liz’s
face.

“Yeah, I thought you could take home the extra food.” She tried
to keep her voice casual and light. “Even though it was mild, I think it would
go wasted with just Paisley and me.”

“Okay.” His answer was equally light, but a new awkwardness
had descended between them.

“Look, Sloane,” Liz said, taking a deep breath. She was
thirty, had been married twice, and was going to keep things honest between
them. “Thanks for everything. For fixing the sink, for being so sweet to my
daughter, and for a great night. But—”

“Wait,” he said, interrupting her.

He crossed the room, and with him standing so close to her,
it was harder to say what she needed to.

“Are you ready to call it a night so early?” he asked.

She didn’t expect him to say that, to be so direct as well.
“I just . . . I think you’ve got a lot of things going on, and you know that I
do too. And I shouldn’t have even agreed to go out tonight, even though we
really didn’t go anywhere. I don’t want Paisley to get confused.”

He was staring at her, and it was hard to look anywhere but
his blue-gray eyes.

“I’m sorry, but I decided a while ago that I wasn’t going to
date anyone for a very long time,” she said.

He nodded slightly, but his gaze was still intent on hers.
“I understand. I decided the same thing.”

“So what are we doing then?”

“Well, I’m being an idiot by ignoring my date and talking to
Darci.” He blew out a breath. “She just gets under my skin, and the only way to
stop the irritation is to find out what she wants.”

“What did she want?” Liz asked.

He scoffed. “I probably shouldn’t say . . . she wants to
meet for dinner. Says her dad might compromise.”

“That’s great news, right?” Liz asked.
But why does he
have to go out to dinner with his ex-wife to discuss it?

“You don’t know Darci. I suspect that she’s behind her dad’s
demands, even from the beginning.”

Liz let that sink in—and the fact that she wasn’t ready to
make her life more complicated than it already was. Getting involved with
Sloane would definitely make it that way.

“Look, Liz,” Sloane said in a quiet voice. His hand touched
her cheek, then trailed down her neck and rested on her shoulder. “I think you
know that I like you, and despite my promise not to get involved with anyone
for at least five years, I’m about to break it.”