Page 31 of Captivating Mr. Second Chance

“That’s why you’re his favorite uncle.”

“I’m his only uncle,” Ethan said, and Leah laughed.

“Exactly.”

They hung up, and Ethan smiled out into the setting sun outside of his windshield. Finally, he felt like he had gained some control back. With the wheels in motion on this nonprofit, the pit in his stomach had begun to dissolve. Now if only he could relieve the tightness in his chest.

Though he knew that wouldn’t be happening until he had Laney in front of him once again. She was the only relief for his heartburn.

* * *

By the timeLaney had shown up to the bar, the Anchormen had already started their set and were in the middle of a cover of “Learn to Fly” by the Foo Fighters with Hank on the microphone, Dean on guitar, Ethan on drums, and two other guys she’d never seen before playing the keyboards and bass guitar. Dean tipped his head in acknowledgment of her, while Ethan grinned, his hair flopping onto his forehead as he banged out his rhythms.

It was a good crowd, and Laney grabbed a seat at the corner of the bar, ordering a beer. She didn’t drink it often, but at a dive bar with sticky floors, she wasn’t about to order a glass of wine. With a glance around, she spotted Hank’s wife, Angela, a pretty dark-haired woman whom she’d met once or twice before, and they exchanged waves.

Hank, in a Tommy Bahama shirt, dedicated the next song to his wife, and she clapped as the first couple of notes of “…Baby One More Time” rang out. They slowed it down and added a slight alternative edge, but Laney sang right along with Hank, laughing when he tried some of Britney’s dance moves. After that, Hank introduced “Sunday Morning” by Maroon 5, one of Laney’s favorite songs, and from Ethan’s eyebrow waggle, she knew he must have made them learn it specifically for her. Hank made a joke about how he, much like Adam Levine, had women throwing themselves at him because of his voice and his body, to which Ethan hit the drumsba-dum-tss. Then he readjusted his glasses and twirled the stick in his right hand, staring straight at Laney.

Honestly, this man.So annoying.

They played through a couple more songs, some from their high school days, some newer, some from the 80s. They even played “Waterfalls” by TLC, and Laney raised her hand in the air, rapping right along with Hank during Left Eye’s verse. By the time they had finished their set, Laney had barely drunk any of her beer, but the bartender leaned his elbows on the bar in front of her.

“How we doing over here?”

“Good, thanks.”

“You need anything from me?”

She shook her head, and he offered her a crooked smile. He was handsome with gauges in his ears and a scruffy beard.

With a glance over her shoulder to see the guys in the band packing up their stuff, she didn’t know how long she’d be staying, if at all. “No, I think I’m—”

“Yo, Laney!” Dean had a couple pieces of Ethan’s drum kit in his hand as he headed toward the door. “Order me some nachos.”

She lifted her hand to show she’d heard his order then turned to the bartender. “Nachos, please.”

“Your boyfriend is kinda rude to yell at you like that.”

“That’s my brother.”

He smiled. “Oh, sorry. I assumed. There’s no way you’re sitting here by yourself.”

She lifted a shoulder, chancing another peek over her shoulder. Ethan was in the middle of zipping up some equipment. Sure, they’d kissed last weekend, and he’d left her in such a state of worked-up nerves that she’d raced upstairs for her vibrator. And, yes, she did spend ten minutes searching through her clothes for something to wear tonight, and she only came because he asked her to evenaftershe’d already told Dean she wasn’t planning on it.

But still. She was currently sitting at the bar by herself with Bobby’s betrayal still lingering beneath her ribs and the embarrassment of her date with George fresh in her mind.

“For right now, I am,” she told the bartender, and he gazed at her from under thick eyelashes. That expression probably worked on lots of people. It didn’t work for her.

“You staying here awhile?” he asked.

“Not sure.”

“Well, if you’re planning on it, I’d love to treat you to another drink on me.”

Laney had been hit on a lot in her life, starting when she was barely even thirteen. She had the stereotypical looks of American beauty standards and was often mistaken for being older than she was. That early education led her to focus on sports and not worry about boys and men. Nevertheless, they were hard to avoid, and she quickly learned that no matter how hard she tried to be “nice” when she turned men down, they could still be intimidating and relentless in their pursuit.

Which was why she breathed out a tiny sigh of relief when Ethan appeared next to her, one hand on the back of her stool. “You’re here.”

“Despite it being hair-wash day.”

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