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)
“Someone had to clean up the mess in the kitchen. Here, figured you’d be ready for another cold one.” She holds out a fresh beer.
“Thanks.” I accept it.
Ronan’s soft curse tickles my ear. “I’m gonna be wasted if this keeps up.”
I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck. “Good. Easier for me to take advantage of.”
His phone lights up with a text then, and Tasha’s name appears on the screen.
A dash of discomfort burns in my stomach. For an ex he only just reconnected with, she messages him a lot. “Didn’t you say she was here this weekend for a bachelorette party?”
“Yeah. I saw her at the airport when I went to pick up Britt.” He says it so offhandedly.
I hesitate, not wanting to show my insecurities. Cody used to do that all the time, dismiss frequent texts and meet-ups from female “friends.” When I’d question why, he’d gaslight my concerns, tell me to stop being so jealous.
Turns out I had reason to be then.
Do I have reason now?
“How was seeing her again after so long?” A woman he was in love with, the one he thought he’d marry.
“Weird. But also good. Validated what I already knew, that she’s in the past.”
“Does she know that?” Because I can only think of one reason why a girlfriend is messaging her ex so much.
The firelight casts just enough of a glow for me to see the truth in his eyes as he says, “She does now.”
“Good.”
His answering smile is crooked. “By the way, are you sure it’s okay for Britt and Dani to crash here this weekend?”
“Yeah, as long as they’re okay with sharing the spare room.”
“They won’t care. They’re like two peas in a pod. It’s just for two nights, anyway. But I can put them up in a hotel—”
“No, don’t be dumb. The more, the merrier. Besides, I can’t wait to meet her.” What is Ronan’s sister like? And his mother and father? Will they like me? Will I like them?
“Yeah?” He toys with a strand of my hair. “And when do I get to meet the original sea witch?”
“Soon. I promise.” First, I have to figure out how to break the news to her that everything she poured her heart and soul into building is going to be gutted, paved over, erased. My stomach tightens with dismay. “Tomorrow? That’s when he’s rolling out his big plans?” I don’t have to spell out Henry’s name.
Ronan’s expression hardens. “Yeah.”
How long before that news reaches Palm Oaks? It’s better if Gigi hears it from me.
Heavy footfalls sound from behind us, and a moment later, a bare-chested Connor strolls up, dressed in gray track shorts and holding Ralph like a football under one arm, a bag of potato chips dangling from his free hand.
Jeremy’s jaw hangs. “How did you catch him?”
“Easy. Found him sittin’ on Darla’s hood. Guess he likes her.”
Frank snorts.
“Watch this.” Connor holds a chip out between two fingers.
Ralph’s bird neck stretches as he snatches it away with his beak.
“I have been trying to catch that guy for years, and you got him on your first night here,” Rebel admits with astonishment. “That is amazing.”
“That’s because I’m amazing,” he counters, winking at her.
“Yeah, Connor’s a regular cock whisperer,” Ronan mocks.
Frank’s head tips back with a deep bellow of laughter. It’s so surprising and so boisterous that everyone freezes for a beat before joining in.
We’re all still laughing when two figures materialize from the darkness next to the oat grass.
29. Ronan
They approach from the beach like ghosts emerging from the shadows.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I mutter as Sloane’s body goes rigid in my lap. What the fuck is Henry Wolf doing here? Tension cords my muscles as I watch him step onto Sloane’s property, Abbi at his side. They’re dressed for whatever dinner function they came from—she’s in a gauzy white dress, he’s in a pale green linen suit. They practically glow in the dark.
Heads turn, one here, two there; someone turns the music down to a lull.
Frank sets his ukulele on the ground next to him, his brooding sights set on Sloane’s nemesis like a guard dog deciding how far it should allow an intruder in before it lets them know they’ve made a terrible mistake.
He’ll have to beat me to Henry if he’s here to threaten Sloane in any way.
The tension is choking.
Ralph decides that’s the perfect moment to peck Connor’s bare chest. A flurry of wings and a howl of pain later, Connor’s ribs are clawed, and Ralph dines on the scattered bag of chips.
“Bad boy,” Rebel scolds, even though Connor’s the idiot for carrying the damn rooster around in the first place. She abandons her seat to inspect the angry-looking, red scratches. “Let’s get those cleaned up right away. There’s a first aid kit in the house.”