Sloane was dangling headfirst out of the window. She was folded at the waist and had both arms stretched down, hands planted firmly on Emma’s shoulders. It was not what Brady had expected to see, even after Emma had hurriedly explained over the phone that Sloane had pulled a “Winnie-the-Pooh” and gotten stuck trying to climb out of a window. Though Brady still had no idea why Sloane had tried to climb out of any window. Let alone one at The Drinking Spot.

“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.