Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“The Sea Witch. Coffee shop and”—he frowns in thought—“tiki boats?”
And there Henry is, proving my damn point about always knowing far more than you’d expect a busy billionaire to waste his time learning.
“Smart. No fight, the signs are down. Now my wife doesn’t have to come out here and see all her dirty laundry hanging in broad daylight for these fucking reporters to make a meal of.” His jaw clenches.
“Is that why you had an issue with them? For Abbi?” That’s commendable, but I’ve never doubted his love for her.
“Definitely a sore spot, but no. We need as little attention on that property as possible now, with the eminent domain claim coming soon.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Did I hear him correctly?
“Eminent domain. It’s where state officials can claim private property—”
“Yeah, I know what it is.” Alarm bells go off in my head. “For that?” I point at Sloane’s little piece of paradise, with its kitschy trailers and colorful beach house, its noisy-ass rooster. “But I thought you wanted that land?”
“That land. Other land. I tried to play nice.” Henry’s smile is downright wicked. “I have big plans for Mermaid Beach, and a lot of connections to help make it happen.”
52. Sloane
Frank marches into the rental shop and stops in front of the counter to loom over me like a storm about to erupt. “Just had an interesting conversation.”
This can’t be good. “With?”
“Jeremy, about your run-in with Cody yesterday.”
I groan. “How much did he mention?”
“He told me about that.” He checks over his shoulder, spots Rebel at the coffee, and leaves it unspoken. “But what did Cody call you?”
“Let me see.” I mock ponder, a pen pressed under my chin. “I believe it was ‘a raging bitch.’”
Murder shines in Frank’s eyes. “If he steps foot in here again—”
“I’ll punch him myself. You know, because I’m a raging bitch. That’s what we do.”
He shakes his head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I toss the pen on the counter and throw my hands in the air. “What good would it do? Yesterday was a long day, and I was worried. I’m still worried.” How long before Cody drives the knife fully between my shoulder blades? I deserve that, though. I did cost him his job at Wolf. “Plus, I don’t know. I’ve been so tired the last couple of days.” I rub my face to emphasize my point. “I had to drag my butt out of bed this morning. I don’t even know what day it is.”
“It’s Monday. And it feels like a Monday.” He tests my empty coffee cup. “Let me get you a refill.”
“Wow. This is a first.”
He lifts his middle finger in the air in answer. “I’ll take the cruise this afternoon.”
“Damn, you must really feel sorry for me.” I chuckle.
It’s Monday.
Henry Wolf is flying in today. He’s going to be here all week. And the Wolf Hotel is opening this weekend. After five long years, the day has finally come.
I pull out my phone and open my texts. Ronan’s is still sitting there, at the top. Unanswered.
I really should reply. It’s rude not to. It’s not his fault he’s a pig-slut. An orgy boy. It’s just more proof that Ronan and I are not meant for each other. Even if I like him, and I really do. I could have gotten over the fact that he’s not-friends with Henry Wolf and that he works for the hotel. But starting a relationship with a guy like Ronan won’t end well for me. I can’t possibly keep him interested. All those body parts jumbled up? That’s not for me. I’m a one man kind of woman. And definitely a man.
Oh my God, have he and Connor …?
I mean, they are oddly close.
I should get tested, especially seeing as we—so stupidly—did not use a condom twice.
Maybe I can get to the clinic today. Shifting to the computer, I scan the calendar and my list of to-dos: payroll, schedule, bookkeeping. I’ve got to put in an inventory order …
It’s the twenty-first already? Why does that date bother me?
Wait a minute.
But it can’t be the twenty-first. That would mean …
Oh my God.
“No, no, no …” My stomach is in my throat as I frantically dig through my purse, pulling out the dial that holds my birth control pills. I recheck the calendar to see when I took the last one.
I should have gotten my period on Saturday.
I’m two days late.
And I am never late.