Chapter 14 "What kind of vitamins do you take?" I ask casually as Jacquie sets our desserts in front of us. The dinner was hands down the best meal I've ever eaten, I hate to admit. I'm beyond stuffed, but I couldn't say no to the lemon tart. "Oh, gosh, I can't remember the brand. They're basic prenatal vitamins. You can get them anywhere. Miles got them for me. That's Henry's assistant." Abbi leans back in her chair. "I didn't even have the blood work results back yet, and Henry sent him out to stock our cupboards with those and decaf coffee. That one, I nearly killed him for." "You're not supposed to have coffee," I say out loud. That one, I knew, but I had forgotten. "My doctor said one cup a day would be fine." Shit. I drink three to four. I guess I need to stop doing that too. "My husband can be so controlling sometimes, but he means well." Until he's trying to buy you out of your home because he wants your land. I steal a glance toward the restroom doors, where Henry just disappeared. Connor is strolling across the room, but Ronan is nowhere to be seen. "How much grief is Henry going to give Ronan for bringing me here tonight?" "Probably a lot, but don't worry about it. Ronan has no trouble standing up to my husband. He's one of the few people who gets away with it." "Why is that?" "Because Ronan saved Henry's life, for one. There was this collapsed mine shaft in Alaska that Henry went into." She shudders. "Oh, I read about that." It was all over the news. "That was Ronan who went in to get him?" "And Connor. They found some other way. They were so crazy for doing it, but I can never thank them enough. Henry might not be here if they hadn't." Her lips purse. "They're close friends of mine, and Henry respects that." "Fresh one for ya." Jeremy appears then with another rose-and-strawberry mocktail, along with a second that he sets in front of Abbi. "And I thought you might like one too." "Oh, thank you." Abbi hesitates, frowning at the glass. "What is it?" "Don't worry, Mrs. Wolf. No alcohol in that." He flashes a megawatt smile. "This is Jeremy," I introduce. "He's one of my sea captains at the Sea Witch, who works here part-time now too. Actually, he's my only sea captain at the moment, unless I count Frank." "Do not count Frank. We need to keep him far away from the tiki cruises. How are you feeling? Are you good? Do you need anything?" He peers down at me in earnest. "All good." "I got you, boss." With a squeeze against my shoulder and a wink, Jeremy swiftly disappears as quickly as he came. Abbi is still frowning at our drinks. "There's definitely no alcohol in them." "Oh my God," she mumbles, and when she looks at me, there's awareness there. "You're pregnant, aren't you?" "What?" It comes out in a squeak. She caught me off guard. "You didn't drink any wine. Not even a sip during the toast. You brought it to your lips, but you didn't drink." I falter on my excuse. "I'm not a wine drinker." She noticed that? "And you ordered everything I've ordered, exactly how I've ordered it. And all these questions you've been asking, about what I can't eat, and vitamins, and doctor appointments." "I was just making conversation." But even I hear how weak that sounds. My shoulders slump in defeat. "It was not planned. I found out yesterday, and I don't know what I'm doing yet." "Does Ronan know?" Her eyes widen. "Wait, it is Ronan's, right?" "Yes, of course!" A nervous laugh escapes me and, with it, a bubble of tension. There's relief in not holding this secret so tightly. Except ... "He doesn't know yet. You can't tell him. Please." Abbi leans in, placing her hand over mine. "I won't say a word." For some reason, I believe her, even if she doesn't owe me anything. But given how quickly she and Jeremy figured it out, how long before Ronan does? Maybe that'd be a blessing. He'll stop calling and showing up and making me fall harder for him. I sigh heavily. "What do you think he's going to say?" "Honestly? I have no idea. This is huge." "Life-altering." "Yes." She nods in agreement. "And Ronan hasn't given off family man vibes. He certainly hasn't lived a life my mama would approve of. Then again, neither have I, by her standards," she mutters dryly. "I have a good idea about Ronan's lifestyle. I mean, there's Connor." I give her a knowing look. "And I met Katie and Rachel on the weekend." "Oh, yeah. Their history with Ronan is something. I've seen it up close and personal once. Unintentionally." She holds her hands up in surrender. "But from what I know, a lot of the things he and Connor used to get up to aren't happening anymore. Not with Ronan, anyway. He's looking for something more serious." She hesitates before smiling. "I know he's crazy about you. He told me this morning." My chest swells with warmth. It's followed quickly by panic. "Will he still feel that way after he finds out?" My voice is thick with doubt. She pauses to consider that question. "The one thing I learned about Ronan is that people are always underestimating him. I used to too. Now? I consider him one of my very best, most loyal friends. If there's someone I can count on, besides my husband, of course, it's him. Every time, without fail." "But if I decide to have it, I don't want him to feel trapped or forced. I want him to be in my life because he wants to be." "Tell him that." She nods with encouragement. I'm about to ask her how she thinks I should break the news when a commotion rises near the restrooms, where Henry holds a hand over his left eye. Meanwhile, Ronan marches toward our table, fury etched in his stony face. "I'm ready to go. You ready?" He rounds the table, ignoring the countless shocked looks from both guests and staff. Even the mermaid has paused her swim and floats mid-tank, watching. "I guess?" I swap glances with Abbi, who looks as confused as I feel, her brow furrowed with worry as she watches her husband, who squints as he tests the corner of his eye with his finger. Holy hell, Ronan punched Henry Wolf in the face. "It was nice to meet you." I shoot one last pleading look for Abbi's silence before climbing out of my seat, my cheeks flushing from the gawkers. Ronan leans in to press a kiss against Abbi's forehead. "Sorry, Red, but he deserved that one, I promise." His attention snags on the plate in front of me that I haven't touched. Grabbing it in one hand, he leads me past Henry, toward Opal Reef's doors. Ronan slows long enough to toss a "Fuck you, Wolf" before he shoves the door open, grabbing and holding it so it doesn't swing back on me. We're halfway down the hall before I say, "So you really like lemon tarts." "What? Oh." He looks at the plate, then at me. "It's for you. I didn't want you to miss out." "Right." I wait another beat and then dare ask, "What happened?" But Ronan shakes his head, holding his right hand out in front of him to inspect his reddened knuckles. "You hit him hard." "I did." "And he really deserved it?" Ronan's teeth clench. "He really did." "So ... I take it you're no longer a director for the Wolf?" "The fuck if I know. Yeah, probably. Assaulting the boss is definitely grounds. Whatever. It's for the best. I wasn't cut out for this." But I sense no relief in his voice when he admits that. I think he liked his role, even if he claims he has no idea how to do it. What does that mean, though, for Ronan staying in Mermaid Beach? Will he go back to Miami? To Indianapolis? He can't leave. Just the idea of Ronan gone ignites panic in me. "I have an opening," I blurt, thinking out loud. "For a tiki captain. Or, as Douchebag Preston insists, a skipper. I mean, it's nothing like your job now." Or his job up until five minutes ago. Ronan's hard mask finally cracks. "I might have to take you up on that. I've got a lot to figure out. I'll need to return my car and find a new place to live." He reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Connor'll probably have to move out too. Fuck, he's gonna kill me." "I have an empty trailer you guys could stay in." The one Dave and Ted were supposed to be in. "A trailer next to the hotel." He chuckles. "Man, this is getting better by the minute." "What? It's comfortable! I'm mildly offended." "No, I'm sure it is. I didn't mean it like that, I swear." He leads me down a narrow hallway. It's a different direction than we came in, but it lets us out in the parking lot and to his car quickly. Holding my door open for me to climb in, Ronan sets the dessert plate on my lap. I admire his body as he rounds the car, his stride even and calm, despite his heavy mood. The drive to my house is short but quiet, Ronan swerving to avoid an especially deep pothole. "I need to get that filled." Frank raked the ground twice this year, but we need more gravel. "Don't bother," Ronan mutters. "What?" I frown. "Why not?" He hesitates. "No reason. I don't know why I said that. My head's just not here." The parking area is jammed tonight, with cars in front of each trailer, plus Mick's pickup next to my Cherokee. Ronan pulls up in the only spot on the other side. "What's going on here?" "Just staff out by the fire pit. We do it every night." And it looks like everyone's here. "We can sit out there, if you want?" He smooths his palms over the steering wheel. "I think I'm peopled out tonight." Ronan might be peopled out, but I'm not ready to say good night to him yet. "We should get some ice on that." I nod toward the angry bruise on his knuckle. He tests his hand by opening and closing it. "It'll be fine. I've had worse." "You punch a lot of people?" His mouth kicks up at the corner. "Only when they deserve it." What could Henry possibly have said or done to earn Ronan's fist? Something tells me it has to do with me. Shaking my head, I unfasten my belt. "Fine. Would you rather go and sulk at home alone or come inside and watch me eat this?" His gaze shifts from my mouth to the tart and back to my mouth. With a crooked smirk, he opens his door and climbs out. "Yeah, thought so." I slide out, wondering what dirty thoughts might have just flittered through his mind. That's fine. I can work with that. I meet him at my porch steps as the faint notes of a twangy instrument carry in the quiet night. "Is someone playing a ukulele?" he asks. "Yeah. Frank." Ronan's eyes pop. "King Kong plays the ukulele?" I bark with laughter. "Yeah, he does. You want to go see?" He pauses to consider that. "Maybe another time." "No more peopling." "Exactly." I lead Ronan into my house, acutely aware of the tension still radiating from his rigid body. Faint music drifts out of the speakers. Skye or Rebel must have had it on while they were making dinner. Thankfully, the kitchen is spotless. They've already cleaned up. Ronan wanders to the patio doors. "They do this every night?" "During high season. Unless it's raining." I set the white china plate on the island, where Ronan and I sat that day, reviewing his hire list. It feels like so long ago now. "It's a tradition Gigi started decades ago and one of the best parts of the summer. When we're fully staffed and everyone's here, it's a real party." I fish a fork out of the drawer. On my way past the freezer, I grab a bag of peas. "Come here." Ronan abandons his spying perch and joins me. "Here. Hold this against your knuckles." I slap the frozen peas into his good hand and then, collecting his injured hand gently, guide them together. Just as quickly, he sets the bag down to free his hands. Seizing me by the waist, he hoists me onto the counter, pushing my thighs apart so he fits in between them. "You promised me a show." "A pastry show?" He hums as he slides the plate closer and collects the fork, handing it to me. "Ice it, now." I tap the peas. With an eye roll, he rests the back of his hand against the bag while watching me intently. I dig into the tart with my fork, breaking off and spearing a chunk on the tines before lifting it to my mouth to slip in, acutely aware of Ronan watching. The flaky, buttery texture begins melting against my tongue almost instantly. "Oh my God," I moan around the mouthful, forgetting my manners. "Abbi wasn't lying. This pastry chef is good." The shell for the chicken was decadent, but this is out of this world. "Her name is Fiona Crumb." "Crumb? You're messing with me." He chuckles. "I wish I was." I sever another forkful, this one with lemon curd on it, and slide it into my mouth. Another moan escapes me as the tart flavor explodes on my tongue. Ronan watches with a private smile. "Is this some sort of weird fetish of yours?" "What? Watching you eat like a ravenous cavewoman?" "Shut up! Here." I fill a fork and shove it into his mouth, earning his mumbled "fuck" as he chews. "See? I can't help it. Thank you for stealing this." I shovel in another mouthful. Okay, maybe I am a bit ravenous. Ronan abandons the bag of peas, his hands settling on my hips as he pulls me to the edge of the counter until his body is flush with mine, the split in my dress revealing my entire leg. I can feel his hard length pressed against me. Bad mood or not, Ronan would rather be here with me. That's something. I load the last piece. "Want it?" "Yes." He opens his mouth, and I move the fork for it. Only to swerve back and pop it into mine with a wink. "Sorry, can't help myself. Ravenous cavewoman, remember?" I've barely swallowed when his mouth is on mine with a punishing kiss, his lips moving frantically as his arms tighten around my body. The patio door creaks open, breaking us apart just as quickly. I clear my throat and manage to croak out a "Hey, Frank." Frank grunts in response as he ambles toward the dishwasher with an empty dinner plate, a tiny ukulele slung over his shoulder. It's almost comical. Ronan steps back, pushing my thighs together and discreetly adjusting himself in one smooth move. "Good to see you again." "What's with the peas?" Frank asks in response. "Oh. You'll love this." I pause for effect. "Ronan punched Henry Wolf in the face tonight." It's rare to get a reaction out of the big guy, but now, he arches his bushy brow. "Henry Wolf. Your boss." Ronan's chest heaves with a sigh. "He had it coming." "Don't doubt it." Frank scratches his chin, his assessing gaze drifting over Ronan as if re-evaluating an old, scrappy car that he's previously deemed unfixable. "So what now? You fired?" "Probably. But it's okay. I'm gonna be a tiki captain and live in one of the trailers." Ronan winks at me. Frank's eyes light up. "Does that mean I don't have to do it anymore?" I chuckle. "Don't worry, I'm back on tomorrow afternoon." "Good, 'cause I can't stand those people." "You mean the tourists who support the Sea Witch?" "Yeah, them. You know what the idiot did today? Tried to take the wheel from me. Said I wasn't goin' fast enough." Ronan whistles. "Ballsy." "Right?" Frank snorts. "Take over from me." "And so what did you do? Told him politely that it's against protocol, right?" I ask. "Yeah, that's exactly what I did. Talked to him nicely. If he says I threatened to dangle him over the water, he's lying." I frown at Frank's back as he washes his hands in the sink. Ronan's shoulders shake with silent laughter as he mouths "King Kong." "Oh, by the way, a woman dropped off a résumé this afternoon to apply for the job." "Is she hirable?" "I only skimmed it. She has boating experience. Didn't see chronic pot smoker listed, but I'll let you come to your own conclusions." I hope this one works out. "I'd love another female captain." "Figured. I told her you'd call her first thing in the morning." "Thanks, Frank." "Uh-huh. Night." He nods to Ronan and then strolls away. A moment later, the front door clicks. "Well, he didn't threaten to rip my arms off and beat me with them," Ronan murmurs. "No, that's special for Cody. But I think Frank's warming up to you," I say through a yawn. The excitement from the day must be catching up to me because I'm suddenly exhausted. Ronan reclaims his position between my legs, only long enough to lift me off the counter by the back of my thighs. His lips are on mine again, this time in a gentler manner, almost reverent. I rope my arms around Ronan's neck as he carries me down the hall. "Which room?" There are only two. "Left." He pushes the door open blindly, using the hallway light to find a path to my bed, setting me down on the edge of the mattress. My hands instantly go for his belt buckle, unfastening it with fumbling fingers that move on to his zipper. I have it halfway down when a deep male voice calling out "who's your daddy" suddenly fills my bedroom. "Is that your phone?" I ask with a laugh. Ronan groans. "Yeah. Connor was fucking around, and he programmed that for Wolf's number. I haven't changed it yet." "So, Henry Wolf is messaging you right now." "Give me a sec. Might as well get this over with." He digs through the pocket of his slouching pants. "You think he's actually going to fire you over text?" "No, but ..." Ronan's brow furrows as he reads his screen. "What is it? What did he say?" "He's reminding me that tee-off is at 7:00 a.m. sharp." "So you're not fired, then?" "Not yet." Even after he punched Henry in the eye? In front of a room full of people? I didn't think Henry Wolf's ego would be able to handle that. But maybe that means he realizes how out of line he was. "What did he do? Or say?" I ask. Ronan seems deep in thought for another moment before tossing his phone on my nightstand. "It doesn't matter." I sense his mood souring again, and I'm desperate to keep him here with me. I smooth my palm over the thin cotton material of his briefs, reveling in the hard length waiting for me. At least Henry Wolf didn't kill that. Yet. I steal a glance up to find Ronan watching me with a smirk. "What?" "Remember when you insisted we weren't doing this tonight?" Given we already have, it's a moot point, but if he wants to bring that up ... "Oh, gosh, that's right. Thank you for reminding me." I abandon my fondling and flop back on my bed, rolling and scooting until my head reaches my pillow. "You know how to let yourself out. Good night." His deep chuckle grates through my body as he turns on my bedside lamp and then backtracks to shut my bedroom door with one hand while his other works on the buttons of his dress shirt. I admire the well-honed torso peeking out from beneath, the muscle rippling across his abdomen and padding his chest. "You know, you don't have to wait for him to fire you. You could always quit." "And work for you?" "Yeah. You'd be so good for business," I muse as he saunters back, peeling the shirt off and tossing it on the floor. "Why is that?" "Your personality." He laughs as he kicks off his shoes and then yanks off his socks. "The tiki captain shirt would look good on you." "I don't know..." "Or you could go like that. Just don't tell Frank or Jeremy. I make them wear the full uniform, but I'm willing to overlook it for you. Also, you wouldn't mind me featuring you on our website, right? And maybe you could be there to greet all the tourists as they come aboard." He mock frowns. "Sounds like my job description is quickly growing. Will I get paid for all these additional responsibilities?" "Yes, with a bed in Palmy Daze. It's nice! Roomy." He shimmies off his pants and briefs, kicking them off. I finally have a fully naked Ronan standing before me for the first time, and good God, it is a glorious sight. "You honestly think you're going to keep me out there when you're in here?" He grabs my ankles and drags me toward him, earning my squeal as my dress bunches up around my waist. Before I know what's happening, my panties are dragged down and off, tossed into a corner. He parts my legs and fits between them, and then, collecting my hands, he pulls me up to a sitting position. "Where were we?" His thumb and forefinger pinch my chin, angling my face. "Oh, right. You were about to suck my dick." "Was I?" It comes out hoarse, his crass words sending a flurry of nerves through my body. His fist wraps around the base of it, angling the swollen tip toward my mouth as he waits in anticipation. I part my lips, teasing the velvety, smooth skin with first a swipe of my tongue, then a swirl, tasting the salty bead of moisture. "Please, Sloane. Don't make me beg tonight." He winces, as if in pain. "I think you just did." Replacing his hand with mine, I stroke his length once ... twice ... and then drag the flat of my tongue along the underside before taking him into my mouth. A strangled sound escapes him as his tip hits the back of my throat. "Fuck, yeah. That's it." His fingers weave through my hair, collecting fistfuls. I slowly slide him out, only to find a palm on the back of my head gently guiding me back, filling my mouth up with him again. And again. And again. Until he coaxes the hand gripping his base away, forcing me to take him even deeper. His size is overwhelming, but the tempo he's set is perfect, and I settle into a comfortable rhythm, hollowing my cheeks as my head bobs and my hands roam, filling with each side of his perfect, hard ass. Acutely aware of his intense gaze as he's absorbed by watching the lewd act. The only warning I get that Ronan is about to come is when his dick swells and his hips make a few jerky thrusts, and then ribbons of salty liquid are shooting into my mouth with his cries. "Thank you," he whispers, his head tipped back to show off his jutting Adam's apple. While he comes down off his high, I unzip my dress and shimmy it up over my head, tossing it to the nearby side chair that catches all the clothes I'm too lazy or tired to put away. Scooting back on my bed until my head rests on a pillow, I part my legs and wait. I'm rewarded a moment later when he opens his eyes, which flare with heat instantly. "How wet are you?" he asks. "Wet." "Show me." "How?" He cocks his head. "Show me." I part my legs wider. That move earns a subtle head shake. I finally clue in about what he wants. A nervous shudder courses through my veins as I slip a hand down between my thighs and slide a tentative fingertip through my slit. Ronan's lips part with a sharp inhale as he tracks the move like a hawk prowling from the skies above. This man whose sexual encounters could probably rival that of a porn star's résumé is turned on by a simple act. "Again," he demands gruffly, his hand absently fumbling with his still-hard dick. I do these things in private, not in front of men, and yet the way Ronan's looking at me now, like I'm the most attractive woman he's ever laid eyes on, stirs a feeling deep inside. "Like this?" I do it again, this time dragging my index finger back and forth several times before gently pressing into my center. His chest heaves, and then Ronan is on his knees on my bed, approaching with clear intent. "Already?" I ask in disbelief, watching his hard dick throb in eager anticipation. A devilish grin consumes his handsome face as his hands settle on my knees. "I'm just getting started." 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