Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“She is my grandmother. That picture was taken in front of the shop the first day it opened, almost forty years ago.” I smile at Gigi back then—her blond hair tied back in braids, a traditional lei hanging around her neck.
He slides off his aviators. “Disney or Greek?”
“Huh?” I manage, caught off guard by both his question and his piercing green eyes.
He smirks. “Which version of sea witch?”
“Oh … I don’t know. It was what my grandfather called her.” I stumble over my answer. Since when are bros interested in plaques and family history? “He was Hawaiian, and he believed in mermaids.”
His gaze drifts over my face, as if searching for hints of island ancestry in my ashy blond hair and olive skin. “And sea witches, apparently.”
“Apparently.”
“Weird pet name.” This guy has a cool, calm way about him.
“Actually, it was meant to be an insult.” Once, Gigi and my grandfather had a huge fight before he went out fishing. He lost his boat—and nearly his life—in a squall that day and accused her of putting a curse on him. She didn’t deny it, figured she’d let him fear her a bit. After that, every time something went wrong in their lives, it had to be the work of the sea witch in her. “They divorced, and she moved to Mermaid Beach out of spite.”
The corners of his mouth curl. God, he is a beautiful man. “Your grandmother sounds like a smart woman.”
“She’s the best.” I bite my bottom lip to stop from grinning like a fool. “First time in Mermaid Beach?”
“First time.”
Strange. There’s something familiar about this guy. I feel like I’ve seen his face before. “Where are you from?”
“Miami, most recently.”
“We’ll hook something up. Right, Ronan?” The blond—Connor, he called him—booms, cutting into our conversation.
“Yeah, I’m in,” Ronan says, but his weighty gaze never leaves me, and it feels like his answer has nothing to do with a tiki cruise or beach chairs.
A tremble runs through my body.
Frank appears at my side and announces, “You can book online. Coffee shop opens at 7:00 a.m.,” in that brusque way of his that borders on rude, even if he doesn’t mean it to be.
Ronan’s smile grows wider. “I think that’s our cue to leave.”
“Good, ’cause I’m gonna pass out.” Connor pats his stomach, drawing my focus to the ridges of muscle. He’s annoying but hot, I’ll give him that.
Sliding his glasses back on, Ronan collects a business card from the counter, pausing to read it. “See you around, Sloane.”
I let out a shaky breath as I watch their backs disappear out the door.
“Veto,” Frank says on the tail end of the door jangle.
I roll my eyes. “You honestly think I could spend more than two minutes in a room with him before I stabbed him?”
“Not that idiot. This one.” Frank taps the counter where Ronan stood a moment ago. “He’s dangerous.”
“They were here for, like, two minutes!” I laugh, and it lifts a bit of the cloud that has settled on this place. “Dangerous how?”
His brow pulls together tightly. “Like he’ll teach you things you don’t need to learn.”
“Ooh, that sounds like fun.” I waggle my eyebrows, earning his glower. “I’m a grown-ass, thirty-one-year-old woman.” Who has never woken up in bed next to a guy I met the day before or had a casual fling. I’ve lost the interest of more than one guy because I didn’t put out by the third date. Gigi swears it’s a good method for weeding out the assholes. It wasn’t foolproof, though. Cody put in the time—we didn’t sleep together for almost two months. Turns out he was hooking up with weekend beachgoers behind my back—something I learned after our breakup.
“You know, I should start having one-night stands. Relationships don’t seem to be working out for me.”
“Great idea. Let me know so I can get my BB gun ready.”
A mental image of the giant guy sitting on his trailer porch steps taking aim at some poor, unsuspecting fool hits me and I start giggling.
A rare—and I mean cougar-sighting rare—smile splits Franks face in two.
So, naturally, I ruin it. “Now, about that poster board …”
35. Ronan
Tasha
Nuts! I was hoping you could show me around town. I’m there for Sandra’s bridesmaid party. Remember her? Congrats on the promotion. Still with Wolf? How is Mermaid Beach? I’ve always wanted to go.
My thumb floats over my phone’s keyboard as I consider a suitable response. The text came in last night while we were elbow-deep in wings and beer. I should ignore it, is what I should do. Do not engage, do not pretend that I care what my ex is doing with her life, two years later.
Why does that seem easier said than done?
“Fucking Wolf, man.” Connor eases Darla into a parking spot at one minute to 9:00 a.m. “How does one guy control all this?”