Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
He sighs. “I didn’t want to tell you until I had no other choice. Until I’d tried everything I could to get Wolf to change his mind.”
“And what are the chances of it happening?
“You saw him this morning. He’s serious. Which means we need to fight him every step of the way.”
“That’s just it. I’ve been fighting for the last five years, and what did that get me? Nothing. He took my peace, and now he’s coming after my home.” The high of hearing Ronan’s words, his unwavering commitment to me, gets a cold splash of reality as I admit that. “I don’t know. This changes things.”
“What do you mean?” he asks warily.
“What kind of mother will I be if all my energy is tied up fighting Henry Wolf, who has endless resources? Who always gets what he wants? And if I don’t fight, my house is gone, my business is dismantled. Sure, I can try to restart, but it won’t be the same. I won’t be the same. How do I manage all that and a baby?” Not to mention the fact that Ronan just lost his high-paying job. Good luck finding anything similar here. “I don’t want to leave Mermaid Beach. It’s my home.”
“You don’t have to. And this bullshit with Henry shouldn’t be part of this decision.”
“It shouldn’t be, but it is.”
His body tenses against my back. “Just … give it a few more days before you decide one way or another.”
“That’s about all the time I have left.”
Ronan’s strong arms wrap around my body as I steer us into the harbor, the silence heavy but not uncomfortable, as we each digest the situation. At least everything’s out in the open now, and no one is running anywhere.
What are the odds that the fuck boy who strolled into my shop one afternoon has turned out to be everything I needed in my life?
When we reach Sea Witch’s slip, Ronan hops onto the dock and grabs a line. He begins tying us up.
I rest my elbows on the bar and watch with amusement. “Have you never tied up a boat?”
“Huh? Yeah, once or twice.”
Coming around the bar, I leap off to join him there. “If you want to be a captain, you’re going to have to learn how to do proper marine knots.”
“Yeah?” His lips curve with a smirk. “Are you gonna teach me?”
“Someone has to. Gigi would be appalled by this mess.”
Soft laughter carries as he steps aside, hands out. “Go ahead, then, Sea Witch. Give me that lesson.” His molten eyes drag over my bikini. “And then I’ll give you one of my own.”
27. Ronan
Connor:
Where are you? I’m waiting out front
I’m at the hotel. I need to make a stop
Ayoung woman in a housekeeping uniform watches me as I pass by her, but I keep my focus on the suite at the end of the West Tower hall, pretending that I belong here.
She’s not the first staff member to do a double take as I strolled through the hotel lobby and into the elevator. Someone really should tighten security.
I hesitate for only a second before I knock on the door.
Muffled voices sound behind it.
After a lengthy pause, the door swings open.
“Ronan!” Margo holds a champagne glass in one hand as she backs up, allowing me past her bikini-clad body. “What a lovely surprise.”
“Where are they?”
“In the bedroom.” Her smile is downright playful. “Are you here to join us?”
“Don’t start. Today is not the day.”
“Yes, I heard.” She mock pouts. “I know Henry can be difficult, but you are proving to be equally so.”
“I’m only protecting what’s mine.”
“Sloane,” she purrs, trailing me through the spacious place like a cat on my heels, waiting for any opportunity to rub up against my leg.
I heard this suite was big, but you could host a party for thirty people in here without batting an eye.
Voices draw me down a hallway in the back and through double doors.
“Oui. Just like that.” Joel aims his camera at Abbi, who leans against a wall near the bank of windows in a lace bra and underwear, a gauzy, see-through robe draped over her body, parted at her protruding belly. The afternoon’s rays give her an angelic glow. She’s had her hair and makeup done and looks sexy as hell.
Sloane is going to look like that.
She’ll have a swollen belly too, and inside, she’ll be carrying my child.
It hasn’t sunk in yet. I might need a few more days for that to happen. Maybe an ultrasound or two. And while this isn’t how I ever planned for it to happen, the longer I sit with the thought, the more welcome it becomes, because the one thing I am sure of is that I care about Sloane. Deeply. Hell, I probably love her, but I’m too chickenshit to admit it to myself yet. The last two times did not end well for me.