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)
“Sure she is.”
He pauses, studying me. “Why?”
“No reason. How old is she?”
Ronan’s lips curl with a knowing smirk. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.”
“Good answer,” I mumble, though it doesn’t help much with the knot forming in the pit of my stomach. A woman wants to get Ronan alone on a boat?
Then again, I can think of sexier ways to lure him in without literal bait and hooks.
“Yeah? Well, how about this answer: I have everything I want right in front of me.” Ronan reaches into my gaping uniform shirt, slipping his finger under my bikini top to tease my nipple.
It hardens instantly.
Memories of last night flood my mind, and a swell of heat quickly follows. I edge in closer until our bodies are flush once again. I’ve missed this all day. “Do you have time to come back to my house?”
“Fuck, I really wish I did.”
I reach up and slide my bikini cup to the side, exposing my breast for him only.
His eyes flare with heat. “Maybe I can—”
Heavy footfalls sound on the dock then.
Ronan curses under his breath and drops his hand to his side.
My irritation flares while I readjust my suit before turning around.
“Hey, boss,” Will calls out. Jeremy is on his heels. “Ran into your group up top. Looks like you had a wild bunch.”
“Yeah, those ladies can party.” I point to the empty cans in the trash bin, evidence of their afternoon debauchery.
Will jumps onto the boat, casting a “Hey, man” to Ronan before he sets to cleaning up.
Our private time is officially over. For now.
“Who’re the other charters?” I prompt. He did come here for a reason besides fondling me.
“Randy Pegg,” Ronan reads out loud.
“Randy Pegg,” I echo, my face pinched up in thought. “His name is super familiar, but I don’t know … Hey Will, do you know a Randy Pegg? Charters fishing boats?”
He pauses halfway off the dock, his tan arms straining under the weight of the cooler. “Yeah, isn’t that the guy who accidentally impaled his brother in the thigh with a spear gun?”
“Oh my God, you’re right!” I laugh, even though it’s the furthest thing from funny. “He tripped over a rope or something. The brother’s fine,” I quickly add.
“No to Randy Pegg.” Ronan curses. “And let me guess, Nic Wheeler just got out for manslaughter.”
“Nic’s available?” That’s a rarity. “No, he’s great! Really reliable. More expensive, though.”
“I don’t give a shit. It’s on Wolf. Let me get Archie to book him.” Ronan’s thumbs fly over his screen. “All right, thank God that’s done. I need to get back.”
“I’ll walk you out. I’m heading to Gigi’s.” I grab my bag and throw a wave at the guys. “By the way, the new captain starts tomorrow. Her name’s Bailey.”
“Is she hot?” Will asks.
Jeremy cuffs the back of his head. “See you tonight at the bonfire, Sloane?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there tonight.”
His eyes flitter to Ronan, darting to his bruised knuckles. “You too?”
“We’ll see how the day goes.” Ronan casts a lazy salute before falling into step beside me, his hand settling on the small of my back. “So, you hired her?”
“Yeah, and I think she’s going to be great.” We sat on two beach chairs in the shade outside the coffee shop while Bailey filled in details about every aspect of her life, including her honorable discharge after multiple deployments to the Middle East. In my head, I’d hired her within the first five minutes. I hope my gut isn’t wrong. “Things around here feel like they’re getting back to normal.” Except for the whole pregnancy thing, of course.
Ronan’s face pinches with discontent.
I reach up to squeeze his bicep. “Don’t worry, Tiki One is still yours if you want it.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He chuckles, but the sound is off.
“How was work today?”
“Weird.” He tells me about his golf morning and his meetings as we climb the steep staircase, side by side. By the time we reach the top, I’m laughing.
“You have to take her up on it. When else are you gonna get to go duck herding?” How is that even a thing?
“I don’t think that’s why she wants me there.” He smiles wryly.
“Right.” While I may be drooling over Ronan every time he walks into a room, so is every other woman, it seems, including my merry band of drunken afternoon sailors. “And you’re supposed to do what with these clients?”
“Make them feel important so they’ll spend money with us.”
“By chartering a fishing boat.” It’s a struggle not to sound jealous and accusatory.
“It’s her thing.” We stop in front of his BMW, the pristine black paint gleaming in the sunlight. “Things are gonna go late tonight, but I’ll text you when I’m done.” He pulls me in close. “Wait up for me.”
“Sure.” It’s not even a question that he’s coming over. I think that’s what I love most about Ronan—he doesn’t play games. And concern over what his boss thinks about us together? Completely gone, out the window. “How late, though? I might fall asleep.” I’ve been unusually tired these last few days. I can’t tell if it’s on account of my overactive hormones or suddenly feverish sex life.