Page 5 of Save Me (The Wolf Hotel Mermaid Beach #2)

T he towel is unnecessary in this heat, but I wrap it around my shoulders anyway as I stroll toward my house.

I needed that swim. Something about the warm gulf water and the lapping waves and the endless blue sky above always calms me.

But it didn’t assuage the disbelief that still grips my every thought.

I nearly took a third test when I got home from the Sea Witch after an afternoon of bumbling through paperwork, but distracted myself with the garden instead. That led to sweating under the hot sun, which led to the need to cool down.

But none of these diversions change the fact that I’m as pregnant now as I was this morning.

What do I do?

Do I keep it?

That’s not a question I ever thought I’d be asking myself, but I always pictured reaching this milestone when I was happily married or at least in love, not accidentally and by a guy I barely know .

I need to talk to Gigi is what I need to do. She’s the least judgmental person in my life. She’ll have good advice. I’ll go tomorrow morning. I was planning to anyway.

Right now, though, I need to rinse the briny seawater and clinging sand off before I attempt to make a salad for dinner.

I follow the path to the outdoor shower at the side of the house.

And jump as I come face-to-face with Ronan.

“Hey.” His voice is deep as his gaze drifts over my bikini-clad body. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t.” I swallow against my suddenly racing pulse, fresh memories of what we did on the tiki cruise yesterday—what I allowed to happen out in public—hitting me like a forceful gulf wave. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d stop in to see you since you didn’t respond to my text.” The corner of his mouth kicks up with amusement.

He’s direct, I’ll give him that. And with everything else going on, I forgot to call Ryan. Shit . I’m a terrible business owner. “I’m glad to hear Katie’s ankle isn’t broken.”

“Yeah. Flying home tomorrow might be a challenge, but she’s got crutches and help.

” His pace slows until he stops next to the outdoor shower stall, his polished shoes sending loose gravel skipping.

He must have come from work, but his dress shirt is unbuttoned to reveal the delicious ridges of his collarbone and his thick, columnar neck .

I wasn’t sure how I would feel when I ran into Ronan again, given the present circumstance.

But now that he’s standing here, he’s as jaw-droppingly attractive as before.

And I’m still feeling that physical pull toward him, the urge to be close, that keeps getting me into trouble.

In fact, it might be stronger now, this connection I feel.

Because we are truly connected, in a way he has no clue about.

What would Ronan do if he knew I was pregnant with his child?

Surely he would not be looking at me the way he is—like he’s deciding which string to pull on this bikini.

No, he’d likely hightail it out of here as if I were a ticking bomb.

And I guess I am. Or rather, this cluster of cells growing inside me is—a bomb that will blow up Ronan’s life as he knows it.

I couldn’t really blame him if he ran—this is not what either of us was aiming for—and yet the thought disappoints me far more than it should.

A furrow wrinkles his brow. “You okay?”

“Huh?” I realize I’m staring at him. I’m always staring at him. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just … today didn’t go as planned.” My entire life just swerved toward an unknown and chaotic road ahead.

“Your captain spilled?”

I frown. What is he talking about?

“Your tiki captain, Jeremy. Did he tell the others they got blacklisted from the hotel?” he clarifies.

“ Oh . No.” I pause with the reminder. I hadn’t given that a moment’s thought since this morning. “Jer promised he wouldn’t say anything, but Cody probably will. Who knows when.” Great. Now I get to worry about being pregnant and staffless in high season.

It’s shady beneath the canopy of the trees and beside the house, and a chill runs through me from standing here in a wet bathing suit. I duck past Ronan and drape my towel on a hook before stepping into the shower stall.

“Wish I’d had a chance to punch that fucker in the mouth yesterday,” Ronan murmurs as he sizes up the bamboo walls and river rock floor and the brass taps that give the outdoor shower an upscale feel.

Frank cursed those stones while he was installing them like Gordon Ramsay berating his cooking contestants, but the end result is one of my favorite parts of the entire thing.

“Consider yourself lucky. Knowing Cody, he’d sue you. He’ll do anything for a fat paycheck. Trust me, I know. He tried to sell this place out from under me.”

A troubled look flashes across Ronan’s face. “Yeah, well, his source no longer works for Wolf.”

“You fired her? I mean, you figured out who it was?” Which poor, foolish woman joined the ranks of those who fell under Cody’s spell?

“Wasn’t hard. And yes, I did.” More to himself, he adds, “At least I can do that much.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

Though it doesn’t change the reality that Cody can still ruin my reputation, that Ronan did that for me is … something. “Thanks.”

His gaze roams my face, settling on my lips. “You’re welcome.”

Any second now, I’m going to forget everything else except how good that mouth feels on mine. Needing a distraction, I crank the faucet and wait for the water stream to turn warm before stepping under the rain showerhead.

“You use this a lot?” Ronan leans against the support post, pinning the bunched curtain with his shoulder. His pose suggests he has no plans on leaving.

“Probably more than the shower inside.” Everyone staying here does. There’s ample privacy. Normally I would peel my suit off, but doing so in front of Ronan is an invitation for a repeat performance of our last two encounters, and now is not the day for that.

I will admit, though, I like having his attention, and it is certainly rapt, his green eyes heated as he watches me. But what’s more, I’m happy he’s here, despite everything.

I reach for my loofah. “So, Henry Wolf arrived today, right? How’s that going?”

“It’s … going.”

“That good, huh?” A big part of me is curious about the billionaire CEO.

Is he truly as indomitable as the newspapers and magazines make him out to be?

Ronan doesn’t seem to like him much. Based on what Connor was saying on the cruise yesterday, it sounds like Ronan may have earned his plum job because of Henry Wolf’s wife.

What is the dynamic there? How did he end up being such close friends with her?

And how does Henry Wolf feel about that friendship?

I have so many questions.

Ronan’s throat bobs with a hard swallow. I may be out of sorts, but he seems on edge today too. That casual, detached swagger is missing. And that expression he wears now, he looks almost pained.

“Seems like you had a tough day too.”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he answers gruffly.

Warm water sluices over my head as I turn away from him, afraid he’ll somehow read the secret on my face.

Believe me, your day could get a whole lot worse with just two words out of my mouth.

I close my eyes and let the salt water rinse off.

I’ll have to have a proper shower later, when I don’t have an audience.

Keys jingle behind me.

I turn back around in time to see Ronan emptying his pockets onto a nearby shelf. “What are you doing?”

He kicks off his shoes and socks.

My heart pounds as his intentions become clear. “I’m not really in the right headspace for …” My words drift as Ronan steps into the shower stall, still dressed in his work clothes.

“Why does everything have to be about sex with you, Sea Witch?” Grabbing the nearby bottle of shampoo, he squirts a dollop on his palm, seemingly unfazed as the water soaks into his clothes. “Why can’t we just talk?”

I can’t help but laugh. “Because …” My voice falters as his strong fingers seize either side of my head. “We don’t seem to know how to do that.”

“We haven’t tried.”

“Fair enough.” I study the hard lines of his jaw as he works the shampoo into a lather, a heady mixture of coconut and pineapple combined with his masculine cologne.

“Is that what this is? You, trying to talk to me?” Because his overwhelming presence in this tiny space has my half-naked, traitorous body forgetting all my current troubles and eager to find new ones with my back pressed up against the wall.

“ I’m trying,” he whispers, his touch sending a wave of shivers through me. “I’m not sure what you’re angling for.”

“You wish.” The way his fingers massage my scalp is both soothing and teasing, and a moan escapes me unbidden.

The corner of his mouth kicks up. “See? I’m just a guy trying to have a conversation, and then you go and make sounds like that.”

God, his voice is so grating and deep. This is all so overwhelming that, for a moment, I’m afraid I’ll lose my balance.

My hands find their way to his waist, resting gently against his sculpted body.

I barely know this man, but I’m positive that he’s all wrong for me.

Positive! Still, I could fall for him so easily, and that is a dangerous reality I’m struggling to come to terms with.

“I can tell you what I’m not angling for, and that’s a fuckboy.”

His fingers stall a moment on my scalp before continuing. “Neither am I.”

“You’re not looking for a fuckboy?” I quip, unable to help myself.

He chuckles. “You know what I mean.”

“But do you understand what I mean?” That came out patronizing. “I’m not sure we’re looking for the same thing.” I want a man I can sit next to on the beach and watch the sunset at night. Every night. From what Ryan alluded to, Ronan is looking for willing orgy participants .

His lips curve into a wry smile. “I was in a relationship for four years, so yes, Sloane, I understand.”