“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.”
Her breath shortened, and she scrambled to keep a level head. “How long ago did you make the promise?”
“Two years ago.”
Now she was surprised. “So you haven’t dated for two years?”
“Nope. Not since about a year after the divorce.” His other hand came out and cupped her cheek as he moved closer.
Liz’s heart was pounding like crazy, not because she wanted him to leave, but because she wanted him to stay. “I don’t want you to break your promise to yourself.”
His mouth curved into a smile. “You are so accommodating.” He inched closer until she could practically feel his body against hers, although they weren’t touching. “And beautiful.”
“You shouldn’t let a pretty face change your mind.” It was her last ditch effort.
“Too late.”
Her eyes closed as his lips touched hers. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, drawing her closer. Her mouth parted as his kissing deepened, and she found herself wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing against him.
Her mind told her she was crazy and that she should lock herself in the bathroom and 911-text Gemma. But her body wasn’t paying attention. His kissing slowed, and she let out a sigh.
He pulled away, his hands cradling her face. “Was that a good or bad sigh?”
“I’m not sure yet,” she whispered.
Sloane chuckled. “I never know what you’re going to say.”
“I don’t want you to break your no-dating promise with a predictable woman.”
He smiled and brushed his lips against hers. “Does that mean we’re dating then?”
“Umm . . .”
He groaned. “Do I have to convince you some more?” He kissed her again, slowly, his hands moving down her back, then resting on her hips.
How could this man—who she’d known for only a week—feel so perfect?
His mouth moved to her neck, trailing kisses along it. Heat shot through Liz—he’d found her weakness. In a few moments, she’d be putty in his hands. “Sloane,” she said, moving her hands to his chest and pushing against him slightly. “You have me convinced.”
Sloane lifted his head. “So is kissing your neck the trick?”
“Maybe.” Every part of her body tingled. She was moving into the danger zone. She imagined unbuttoning his shirt and running her hands along his warm chest.
“Good to know.” He drew away.
She wanted him back, holding her, kissing her. It scared her how quickly she’d grown attached to him, as though she needed him. She took a reluctant step away from him. “You should go,” she whispered, embarrassed at how vulnerable she felt, at how easily she’d cave if he kissed her again.
But he seemed to understand, and he walked over to the coffee table and picked up the bag of food. “I never turn down good Thai.” He winked. Without any more kissing, he was out the door. For that, Liz was grateful. If he’d kissed her again, she didn’t think she’d let him leave the apartment.
You are such a liar.
I’m not, Liz texted Gemma. It just happened. Totally unplanned. And . . .
Totally great?
Yeah. I’m sooo screwed. And he was talking to his ex-wife like 5 minutes before! Ugh!
Well, at our age, everyone’s gonna have some baggage.
True, Liz thought. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.
Seriously, Liz, he sounds pretty awesome.
He was awesome. Thinking of Sloane sent warm shivers along her body. They’d talked on the phone a couple of times over the weekend—he had to go to San Diego to check out properties—but she hadn’t seen him since Friday night. Her mouth pulled into a frown. He was meeting Darci tonight for that dinner.
Liz didn’t know much about Darci, but she knew she didn’t want Sloane hanging out with his ex, even it if was business-related. Too sticky . . .
Today was a slow day at the salon, and Liz had taken it upon herself to organize the back room. Josi’s voice sailed through the open door. “Liz, your next appointment’s here.”
Liz turned and slipped her phone into her pocket. She didn’t have an appointment until three. She froze when she saw Sloane walking toward her. He wouldn’t dare . . . She’d already told him she didn’t want to cut his hair.
“Hi,” she said in a small voice when he reached the back room. She’d wondered how she’d react when she saw him again. Now she knew—all melty and breathless.
He didn’t stop walking but crossed to her and pulled her into his arms. After kissing her thoroughly, he said, “Hi. I missed you.”
Liz suddenly became aware of Jos
i at the front desk, who had a full view through the door, ogling.
“Uh . . . the door,” Liz said.
Sloane turned and shut it. “Better?” He grinned.
Liz folded her arms, her heart hammering at how much she wanted to kiss him again. “I’m not giving you a haircut.”
He laughed. “You want me to go to your competition then?” He was standing in front of her, his hands snaking around her waist.
“Do I have competition?”
“No.” He backed her up against the wall and lowered his mouth to hers.
She kissed him and let herself be wrapped up in his arms for a blissful moment, forgetting all of the complications this was bringing to her life. For a moment, she reveled in his nearness, his touch, and the tingling shooting all the way to her toes.
When he lifted his head for a moment, she said, “What are you doing here?”
“I told you. I missed you.”
Liz wanted to laugh. How could he really miss her? They’d only been on one semi-date. Should she be worried this was moving so fast? Reluctantly, she placed her hands on his chest and put some distance between them.
“You know I’m at work.”
“Yeah,” Sloane said, scrubbing his hand through his hair. “Sorry about that.”
His smile was completely endearing.
He exhaled. “Look, I know this sounds crazy, but I feel like I know you more than I really do. Like we didn’t just meet last week.” He took a step back and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Still, we need to slow it down.”
“Really?” Liz laughed. “Who came barging in here?”
“Yeah, I know. I meant me. I need to slow it down.” He moved toward the door, his expression confused, vulnerable, and adorable all at the same time.
Liz wanted to throw her arms around him. Instead she folded her arms. “How are you going to do that?”
“Go to Liz-aholics-Anonymous?”
“I can save you the trouble by just telling you all of my flaws.”
He stopped at the door, his hand on the knob. “I doubt your flaws would make me not want to barge into your work and kiss you.”
Heat spread along her neck. This room was getting way too small for the both of them.
Third Time's the Charm (An Aliso Creek Novella) Page 3