Page 31 of Save Me (The Wolf Hotel Mermaid Beach #2)

“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.

“Then send me the code to your door, and I’ll wake you up.”

A thrill explodes inside me at the thought of the many ways this man might do that. “You’re basically asking for a key to my house? Wow, that’s presumptuous.”

“You’re kidding, right? Everyone in your commune has the code to your house. Fucking Ralph probably knows how to peck the digits.”

I burst out laughing, earning a rare grin. “Did he shit on your car last night?”

“Has he failed me? Why do you think it’s so clean?” Ronan’s hand slides down over my cutoffs. “Why are you wearing these?”

“Why am I wearing shorts?”

“Yeah.” He palms my left cheek with a squeeze. “They’re obstructive. ”

“Because the last time I captained without shorts, I got manhandled.”

“You were with a bunch of deviants.” His hand slips under the hem and up between my thighs, working beneath my bikini bottoms.

I gasp as a long finger pushes inside.

A clubby beat begins playing from Ronan’s pocket, stalling his explicit touch. He pauses, listening, and then shakes his head.

“What is that?”

“A song from a movie. It’s got to be Belinda calling.

Connor’s been playing with my ringtones again.

I need to change my passcode.” With a heavy sigh, he says, “’Kay, Gotta go.

See you later.” His touch vanishes, earning my grumble as he leans in to kiss me.

It’s over quickly, though, and then he’s climbing into his car, his phone pressed to his ear.

I watch as the sleek car pulls out of our parking lot, already aching for tonight.

“So …” Skye hangs out the guest registration window.

“Sloane’s got a boyfriend,” Rebel says in a singsong voice as Skye describes this afternoon’s parting. Thankfully, we were angled away from her, so she didn’t get the full view. The view she did get was apparently plenty steamy.

“I don’t know what he is.” The denial tastes off the second it leaves my tongue.

“Here.” Skye holds out a bottle of Sapporo, waving it in the air to and fro, waiting for me to collect.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Really?” She peers down at the full beer in my grasp, now warm. “You nursing tonight?”

Not tonight, but soon enough, potentially. I’m always good for a couple at the end of a long day, so I figured the best cover was to hold a prop. I probably should be dumping periodically.

“Pass that over.” Jeremy claps his hands and then deftly catches the fresh beer midair with a “gracias” and a wink for me before jumping back into conversation with the guys on the other side of the fire.

Rolland just finished proudly announcing that he carried five beach chairs at one time, earning a round of jesting about his pipe cleaner arms. Every staff member’s here, even Lara, and everyone seems to be getting along well, the long, hot days bringing them together quickly.

It reminds me of old times.

While everyone’s busy teasing Rolland, I stealthily pour a gulp’s worth into the sand.

“Another long day.” Frank drops into his customary folding chair next to me.

I jump. “Don’t sneak up!”

He makes a point of looking down at his mammoth body, as if the very idea is preposterous, before shooting me a doubtful look. “Get your ears checked.”

“It’s not my ears. The ground normally trembles upon your approach.”

He tosses his water bottle cap at my forehead .

Did Frank see me dumping my beer? Probably not. It’s dark. “There’s baked ziti and Caesar salad inside. I left the dressing on the side so it didn’t go limp.” Frank is a notoriously late eater.

“I’ll grab it in a bit. You see Mick’s report?”

“Yep. Already pulled their deposit and put in a replacement order.” People don’t read the fine print, especially the part where Sea Witch stipulates charging for damages when people return beach equipment in pieces.

“How’s Gigi?”

“Great. She won a hundred bucks playing blackjack with Hank and Larry.” Two horny old men who are constantly fighting over her, oblivious to the fact that she’ll never give either of them a shot.

“Probably fleeced them both.” Frank chuckles through a gulp of water. “I’ll bet she loved hearing about dinner last night.”

“Did she ever. Her favorite part was how Ronan punched Henry.” The gasp and ensuing cackle was priceless.

“And Wolf still hasn’t fired him for that.”

“Not as of 4:00 p.m. today, but maybe tonight? I don’t know, but selfishly, it’d be nice if he did because then I wouldn’t have to find a third captain.”

Frank grunts, and I brace myself for a lecture.

Does he disapprove of Ronan working at Sea Witch like Jeremy hinted at earlier?

Given my last foray into “dating the help,” I wouldn’t be surprised.

“Tell him to park on the other side of your Cherokee tonight. I almost couldn’t get out this morning. ”

“Who says Ronan’s coming over tonight?”

I get a flat look in response. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll be coming.”

I snort. And so will I . “Bailey’s going out with me tomorrow, and if all goes well, I’m opening up bookings for Tiki Three .

Hopefully, we can fill up the days. I’ll keep going out as long as I have to, but maybe we’ll get another hire soon.

” The longer the season stretches on, the less that’s likely, given contracts end in October.

I’ll be, what—I quickly do the math—five months along by then? Is that right? Definitely showing.

“One down, one to go.” Frank raises his water bottle in our customary nightly cheers, and I absently tap the neck of my beer bottle against it, my mind churning through reality. I need to make a decision, but I know which way I’m leaning.

“Does he know yet?” Frank asks, cutting into my thoughts.

“Huh?”

He leans in, dropping his voice. “Does Ronan know yet?” His words are slow.

“About?”

“You want me to say it out loud? Really, Sloane?”

Fuck . My stomach drops. “How did you know?”

“Told you, you’ve been acting off for days. And I caught you doing that .” He nods to the dark puddle in the sand where I dumped my beer. “And never, in all the years that I’ve known you, have you not drank after a toast.”

“It’s bad luck,” I echo what Gigi always says. As well as I know Frank, he knows me too .

And now he knows my secret. A wave of relief hits me that I don’t have to keep it from him anymore.

“So? Does he know yet?”

I glance around to make sure no one’s paying attention to our conversation before I shake my head. “I don’t know how to tell him.”

“You open your mouth, and you say the words. Simple.”

“But it’s not .” That ball of anxiety swells in my stomach. “I really like him, Frank. Like, really . But we’ve known each other for weeks. We barely know each other at all. What if he doesn’t want it?”

“You mean, what if he’s like your sperm donor of a father?”

“Yeah,” I admit after a beat. Never met the guy, but maybe I have daddy issues after all.

Frank is quiet for a moment, his focus on the fire. “Do you want it?”

I hesitate. “I think so, yeah.” I’m more comfortable with the idea each time I let it wander into my thoughts. “I’m thirty-one. I own my home and my business, thanks to Gigi. I’m kind of set.” Except for that one missing piece—a partner to share it all with.

Could that person be Ronan? If it’s not, if he runs the moment he finds out, then … he truly is all wrong for me.

“All right, then you have it.”

“Alone?”

“You’re never gonna be alone, Parker. You got me, you’ve got them.” He nods at Skye and Rebel and Jeremy. “You’ve got your village, just like Gigi always says. We can make it work. ”

I allow myself a few long, calming breaths as his words sink in. I don’t know why I was so afraid to tell Frank. He’s always been my rock. “And Ronan?”

He shrugs. “He’s here if he wants to be.”

“And if not …” I let the thought drift.

“Then I rip his arms off and beat him to death with them.”

I burst out laughing at Frank’s signature threat.

“Uh … Sloane?” Mick calls out, interrupting our laughter. He nods to something behind me. “You expecting the boys in blue?”

“What?” I spin around in my chair. Sure enough, two forms in uniform are strolling this way, their flashlights shining their path.

Cops haven’t visited here since that time there was an escaped convict on the loose and someone reported seeing them heading down our driveway. Turns out the guy was hiding out in a tent on the vacant property next door.

What on earth could this be about?

I shimmy out of my seat and head to cut them off, Frank on my heels. “Can I help you, Officers?” Not until the beam of light shifts away do I recognize Jackson. “Oh, hey! Long time no see!”

“Hey, girl.” His friendly face splits with a wide grin that reminds me of our days back in high school, when he was catching pigskins and I was waving pom-poms. An injury killed his chances of playing college ball—a devastating blow for a running back with a promising career.

So, he joined the local police force and has served Mermaid Beach ever since .

The other cop is a stodgy, gray-haired mustache-man whom I’ve never seen before and, I’m guessing, I’m not going to like.

“What’s up, fellas?” I ask.

“Do you have a permit for that?” The stranger cop points to our fire.

“Well, no.” I steal a confused glance at Jackson, who sat around this fire more than once back in the day.

“County law requires a permit for all bonfires on the beach.”

“But we’ve never had an issue before.” I don’t know when the law changed, but no one’s ever bothered us about it in the years since it has.

“Now you do.” He pulls out a notepad. “I’m citing you for this infraction.”

“Are you kidding me?” Frank erupts from behind me.

The cop adjusts his stance and peers over his nose at Frank. “Sir, I’m going to ask you to take a step back and calm down.”

“I am calm,” Frank retorts.

The cop’s eyebrows arch in challenge. “Sir, I’m going to ask you one more time?—”

“Frank, just … go over there.” I step in between them, waving a hand toward the small, curious crowd. The last thing anyone wants is for Frank to get arrested for being himself.

With a grumble, he saunters away.

The dickhead returns to his ticket pad, his pen jotting quickly under the glow of the flashlight he tucked into his double chin.

“I don’t understand. The Sea Witch family has been doing this every night during the season for, like, almost fifty years.” Well before my time, anyway. “Why is this suddenly an issue?”

“Got a complaint.”

A complaint? “From who?” I look from him to Jackson, who’s remained mute in all of this. “There’s nobody here except …” Wait a minute. Of course. “Someone from the hotel called you guys.” I glare up at the monstrosity in the near distance. It’s not even open to the public yet.

“You’re lucky I’m not writing you up for being too close to the grass.” The cop tears the ticket off his pad and thrusts it forward. “If you want to have a bonfire on the beach, you can apply for a permit like everyone else.”

“But we’d have to apply every day.” And pay. “And we’re barely on the beach!”

“I don’t know what to tell you. Move your pit to your property and call it a cook fire. Keep a pack of wieners nearby.”

I can’t read the ticket in the dark to see how much I’m on the hook for, but any amount is infuriating.

“See you around, Sloane.” Jackson salutes and mouths “ I’m sorry ” before trailing his partner away.

A swell of anger erupts inside me. “You’re supposed to be using red light bulbs for the turtles!” I holler after them.

Frank marches over. “How bad is it?

“I don’t know.” I dig my phone out of my pocket to use the light. And gasp. “ Five hundred dollars!” I don’t have that kind of money to burn !

He curses. “Who do you think called?”

“It had to be Henry or that GM who hates me.” The only person I know it wouldn’t have been is Ronan. But maybe he’ll know who launched an arrow at the target on my back.

I dial his number and wait impatiently as it rings.