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)
The little olive branch he holds out is worth more than he knows. “How can he not?”
“Speakin’ of, when’s Bailey showin’ up?” Will grins.
“Settle down, you don’t have a shot in hell at that,” Jeremy tosses back as he returns to the grill. According to his version of events, Will was tripping over his tongue when the tikis sailed back to the harbor and he got his first look at the new captain. Or, should I say, admiral.
I chuckle. “Soon, actually.”
The group disbands toward the water in a flurry of laughter, taking some of the weight from my chest with them. Even Frank, never much of a joiner, trudges after.
“Feeling better?” The steps creak as Ronan takes them down. He must have witnessed that whole spectacle from the back porch.
“Bless me, Father, it has been—” I mock squint in thought. “—six hours since my last confession?”
“You’re not fully absolved yet. That thing we did earlier is considered a sin in some cultures.”
“Dude.” Jeremy holds his hands out in a what the fuck manner before returning to his burgers.
Ronan’s lips twitch, the only sign of his amusement.
“Settled in all right?” I emptied a few drawers to make room for his clothes.
“All good.” He sidles up behind me, curling his arms around my shoulders. “The new pit looks professional.”
“Yeah, they did a great job. I wish they didn’t have to do it in the first place.” I pause. “You sure you’re okay?” I could be projecting, but his mood has been ominous since he returned with Connor and his duffel bag of belongings. Is he already having doubts? Regrets?
His hand grips my chin, angling my head back to meet his intense gaze, just like he did in my bedroom this afternoon, when he took me from behind. “You and me are perfect.”
How does he read me so well?
Leaning forward, his lips meet mine in a tender kiss that makes my chest swell and my heart race. Even though my entire world feels like it’s crumbling around me, somehow, Ronan gives me the strength I need to face it head-on.
A car door slams.
I force myself to peel away. “That must be Bailey.”
We walk hand in hand toward the parking lot, my attention veering toward the trees and the golf course beyond. “Do you think they’re still out there taking pictures?” Rebel said she spied several sets of legs near the fence line this afternoon while she was in the garden. She couldn’t say if they were curious golfers or media people, or maybe Wolf staff.
“Doesn’t matter. It’s out there.”
“How long before lawyers show up in my driveway?”
“Let them. Can’t wait to hear what they have to say.” He says it with such confidence.
Bailey stands in the middle of the parking lot doing a slow, circular turn as she takes in the trailers, the cluster of cars, and Ralph.
“You’re gonna have to put a leash on Connor,” Ronan murmurs as we approach.
“I’m not worried. She can handle her own.” Tight black workout shorts and crop top show off a honed body, layered in hard muscle. Envy swells inside me as I call out, “Welcome to the Sea Witch commune!”
“When can I move in?”
“You haven’t even seen your trailer yet.”
“I don’t need to.” She slides off her sunglasses, revealing an eager twinkle. “This feels like home.”
“Put your foot here.” Bailey demonstrates, pointing to a spot on the sandy ground, her hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. At the crew’s relentless whining, she’s been giving basic combat demonstrations for the past half hour.
“Like this?” Jeremy follows the instruction.
In a lightning-quick move, she flips him over her leg, and he lands flat on his back with a dull thud. “Yeah, exactly like that.”
“Ow,” he groans as laughter explodes around the fire.
“Ron. Toss another one.” Mick holds his hands up, and Ron throws a hot dog, narrowly missing Lara’s cheek.
“Keep your wieners away from our faces!” Rebel scolds, earning several hoots.
I lean back in the seat I’m sharing with Ronan and hold my Sapporo against his lips. “We need more chairs.” A few of the old Adirondacks were not keen on the move and lost pieces along the way.
He takes a sip to help me keep up appearances that I’m drinking. “If only we knew someone who owned a beach chair rental company.”
“If only.” I rest my head next to his and admire the blanket of stars above. My problems are only just beginning, but for tonight, surrounded by my Sea Witch family, cradled in Ronan’s arms, they seem a galaxy away.
Skye trots past then, changed out of her bathing suit and into skimpy cotton shorts and a fitted T-shirt.
“Took you a while.” I note her matted hair and the lazy, crooked ponytail—she rarely walks around without an artful top bun to tame the frizz. And the fact that Connor is still not back from changing either.