He bet The Drinking Spot didn’t have one of her lying around. Maybe he could use that to help Cassidy’s Place?

A small shot of adrenaline went through Brady as the wheels in his head started to turn. He could take a picture of her and upload it to the bar’s Instagram or Facebook? It had been a while since Dixon, Santana, or he had posted anything interesting on either. He was about to voice the new idea to his cousin, but Dixon looked like he was already dealing with something of his own.

Or so Brady thought.

“What is it?” he asked, almost afraid to walk up to him. Like he had done with Sloane in the hallway, Dixon lifted his hand up in a stop motion. In the other was his phone. Brady could make out the Facebook icon in the top corner.

“I heard Carol say that Golden Boy got engaged, so I decided to stalk his social media to see who the new queen of town was going to be.” Dixon’s expression turned to straight sympathy. “Now, just remember, this bar might be owned by my dad, but that doesn’t mean you won’t get canned if you go start a fight with a customer.”

“Come again?”

Dixon slowly angled the phone to face him.

It took Brady longer than it should have to understand what he was reading.

“No way,” he breathed. “No fucking way.”

Dixon shrugged. “You did say Felicity had a thing for fancier living.” He motioned with his head over to the booth in the corner. “Marcus Robertson is pretty fancy.”

Brady didn’t know what to say.

He didn’t know what to feel.

Anger? Disbelief? Jealousy?

Fuck it. That’s what he felt.

He threw down his dishrag and exited behind the bar. Carol saw him coming first, then Sloane. The latter jumped up like she was ready to slap her hand over his mouth again.

But Brady had taken his earlier idea and transformed it into a disastrous, short-term one. It might not fix anything, but it was sure going to get Arbor Bay talking.

And anyone not talking about Marcus was a service to their country.

So, right there in front of both Robertsons, the rest of Cassidy’s Place, and God, Brady took Sloane De Carlo’s face in his hands and kissed her for every dime and penny he was worth.

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

It was like one of those patterned posters with a hidden image. When first looking at it, there were just a lot of triangles or lines repeating. A bunch of bright, neon nonsense that made you a little dizzy. But if you kept your eyelids up and stared? Then suddenly that hidden image came through. Something that had been there all along, just beneath the surface. And once you saw that picture? It was nearly impossible to see anything but that.