Page 16 of Save Me (The Wolf Hotel Mermaid Beach #2)

“He’s not here, is he?” I looked for Henry Wolf but couldn’t spot him. I’ve seen a thousand pictures of the man’s face, but maybe he’s photoshopped and less handsome in real life.

“Not yet. Come on, let’s do the rounds.” His hand slides into mine as if that’s where it belongs, as if that’s where it’s always been, and he guides me to where Connor is, chatting up two men who look familiar.

“Brisket and cantaloupe,” Connor says by way of greeting, holding up a half-eaten slider. In his other hand is a tall pint of beer. “Who woulda thought.”

“Strange combo,” Ronan agrees.

“Whatever. Like I said, I’ll try anything once.” Connor winks at me, his words laced with innuendo. “Guys, this is Sloane, but we call her Cap. Sloane, this is Merrick and Preston. ”

“They were groomsmen at Henry’s wedding,” Ronan elaborates, shaking each one’s hand in greeting.

The wedding. Of course. It’s hard to forget faces like these. It makes sense that they’d be Henry Wolf’s friends. They’re dripping money.

“So, ‘Cap.’ That’s got to be a story,” the raven-haired man on the left says, his British accent posh-sounding.

“Not really. I run a small tiki cruise company, and I sometimes play captain.”

“Captain of a tiki cruise.” A condescending glint sparkles in his eye as he says the words tiki cruise . “I think the term skipper would be more appropriate?”

“I don’t give a fuck what you stuffy bastards think. She’s ‘Cap’ to me, and that was one fun ride.” Connor gives my bare shoulder a friendly squeeze before he’s distracted by a passing platter of mushroom tartlets, and he’s gone chasing food again.

“It was a great day.” Ronan’s warm palm caresses my back again.

“You guys are certainly selling it.” Preston notes the affectionate move. “Maybe I’ll charter one of these cruises while I’m here.” His hazel eyes drift over my dress, stalling on my neckline before lifting again. “Get the full tour.”

Surprise, surprise. I don’t think I like Henry Wolf’s friend Preston much at all. And he clearly knows Ronan and Connor well enough to assume this “fun ride” comes with more than just a trip to Starfish Island.

I plaster on a wide, fake smile. “Just let me know and I’ll make sure Frank treats you right. ”

Beside me, Ronan chuckles.

“I think she just called you a pompous prick.” The guy with cropped, dark ash-blond hair on the right—Merrick—murmurs.

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time a woman has called me that.” Preston sips an amber-colored drink, seemingly unbothered as he scans the white walls and balconies behind us. “The bastard really outdid himself with this one.”

“Makes me wish I could move the Empire near the ocean,” Merrick agrees. His words are wistful, and yet his features are stony, unyielding.

“The Empire?” I ask curiously.

Crystal blue eyes slide back to me. There’s something heavy and dark in them. “My hotel in Vegas.” He says it so nonchalantly.

“Right. Of course. And where is your hotel?” I ask Preston.

He grins. “I don’t own hotels. I just make people enough money so they can fund them.”

“Don’t let their soft, manicured hands fool you. These two have worked hard for everything they have,” Ronan quips, his tone laced with sarcasm.

“We can’t all curry favor with Wolf’s wife for our good fortunes.” Preston smirks, the twinkle in his eye a challenge, like he has a secret he’s not sharing.

Ronan sips his champagne. If the taunt bothers him, he’s good at hiding it.

“Are you local to Mermaid Beach, Sloane?” Merrick asks as Ronan draws circles over my back with a teasing fingertip.

His hands aren’t soft or manicured. They’re toughened by calluses, the scratchiness delicious against my skin.

I hadn’t really noticed when they were all over me before, but I’m acutely aware now.

I clear my throat, temporarily distracted. “Born and raised.” No need to mention where, in case they’ve heard about the crazy neighbor.

“And what do you think of this new hotel?”

“It’s …” I search for a word that doesn’t force me to lie and settle on “something.”

Merrick’s stony face cracks then, revealing a beautiful smile. “You’re not a fan.”

“She hates it.” Preston laughs through another sip before waving down a waiter to get a refill. “Do me a favor and allow us to be there when you share your opinions with Wolf. We like watching his enormously inflated ego get knocked down a peg or four.”

Ronan snorts

Clearly, they haven’t connected the dots.

“I wonder what he would say if we told him that he’s missed the mark on this one,” Preston continues.

“You’re angling for a throat punch tonight?” Merrick asks. “Because he thinks this is the pinnacle. More than Alaska.”

“Nothing is more precious to him than Alaska,” Preston counters.

While they argue about which luxury hotel is Henry Wolf’s favorite, my attention wanders, first to Ronan to gauge his opinion as he watches their chatter—does he like these guys?—then around Seraphina’s.

A blond woman with sharp features and red lipstick stands in a small group ten feet away, staring at me, her face hard with displeasure.

Who could that be? It’s not Abbi, I know that much.

“Oh, hey, here you go.” Jeremy swoops in then with a tall, stemmed glass filled with ice and strawberry slices floating in a pink-tinged concoction. A pale pink rose floats on top.

“What is this?” I ask warily.

“Just something I whipped up that I thought you’d like.” He leans in to whisper, “No booze, I promise. I’ll keep ’em coming all night.” With a wink, he peels away and continues on with his tray of drinks.

My stomach drops as his meaning sinks in. Shit. Jeremy figured out that I’m pregnant. How the hell did he put two and two together so quickly? I knew he was smart, but he’s a guy.

“That looks good,” Ronan says.

I hum through a sip, stealing a glance to see him watching my mouth with interest. Nothing about his demeanor says he has any clue what’s really going on here.

Thank God. I’m not ready to ruin this thing between us yet.

“Is it just me, or is that blond woman at my two o’clock trying to murder me with her eyes? ”

With a casual sip of his drink, Ronan follows my direction. The quiet “fuck” that slips from his lips is delayed, but it’s clear. “It’s not you she has it out for. Not yet, anyway.”

Connor swings back around then, carrying a crostini in his hand. “Here, try this, Cap,” he says through a mouthful .

“I’m not really hung—” My words are cut off as he thrusts the appetizer into my mouth.

“What the fuck?” Ronan scowls at him as I struggle to chew, my taste buds identifying the potent flavors. Peach, ricotta cheese, lemon, and … balsamic vinegar?

“But it’s delicious!” Connor argues.

“I don’t care. Don’t shove shit into her face!” Ronan adjusts his stance as he squares off against his best friend.

“Relax, man.” Connor wears a what the fuck is wrong with you? expression.

Preston tsks as the tension mounts. “Huh. Well, isn’t this cute? Someone finally doesn’t want to share?—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ronan warns without peeling his eyes from his best friend. “I think Belinda’s looking for you.”

Connor gives his friend another long, hard look before nodding. “Yeah, boss. On it.” And he’s gone again.

Ronan watches me wash down the appetizer with a gulp of my drink. “Sorry, he shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s fine.” It didn’t upset me as much as it obviously did Ronan. “And he wasn’t wrong. It was delicious,” I admit.

“Yeah?” He reaches up to slide the soft pad of his thumb over the corner of my bottom lip. When he pulls away, I see the smear of white cheese I missed. “You want more?”

“No.” If not for the anticipation of meeting Henry Wolf and the intimidating woman sizing me up, I’d hunt down the platter myself.

Ronan does another skim around the patio before downing his champagne in one gulp. “Let’s get out of here.”

“But we just got here.”

“We’ll be back in time for dinner. Come on.” He slips his hand through mine and nods toward the beach.

I hold up the glass in my other hand. “What about?—”

“Bring it.” He leads me away, Preston and Merrick chuckling.