34. Sloane #2
Some people argue the change has brought good things to the community, but I disagree.
We were doing just fine. Change is what brought those surveyors to the land next door to my home—acres that had been sitting vacant for decades, not worth developing.
Fast-forward five years and there’s now an eyesore where only swaying sea oats along sand dunes and a serene grove of bramble and copper woods existed before .
“Sloane … Don’t start up on this again. It does you no good,” Frank warns.
“I’m not. I swear.” Poor Frank has had to listen to me rant about all things Wolf Hotel for years.
I dragged him to town council meetings to try to stop the build, but all those assholes care about is how much money and prestige the Wolf name will bring to Mermaid Beach.
“But tell me it doesn’t bother you that it’s there. Right beside our home.”
“It is what it is. There’s no point fighting it anymore. You tried, and you lost. Now, it’s time to let go. Who knows, they could bring us more business.”
“People who pay a thousand bucks a night for a hotel room aren’t coming to the Sea Witch to stand in line for syrup-laced coffees and to rent beach equipment, Frank.”
He shrugs. “You could have sold to them. They made you a good offer.”
“I’m not selling!”
Frank’s eyebrows arch with reproach.
“I’m not selling Gigi’s house,” I repeat, tempering my tone.
She bought that property back when you could still scoop up acres for cheap.
And while she claims she prefers her nursing home now that her body is giving up on her, it would kill her to see the place torn down for more sterile mansions or, worse, an expansion on that hotel.
“I’ve lived in that house all my life. You live there.
A lot of our staff consider it their home over the summer.
” In trailers Gigi collected over the years to provide cheap accommodations to the Sea Witch family, as she likes to refer to them.
Hell, Dave and Teddy are supposed to stay there!
“And you don’t have to,” Frank says calmly. “Now, speaking of lazy, untrustworthy plugs, guess who I heard is applying at Wolf?” He waits a beat before relieving me of the suspense. “Cody.”
I snort, even as hearing that name makes my stomach clench with dread. “Good. They deserve that sorry sack. ”
“They won’t hire him.”
“Please. If there’s one thing Cody is good at, it’s fooling people into thinking he’s a decent guy.” He sure fooled me. He had zero experience and yet I hired him as a captain, and then I dated the bastard for a year before saying yes to his proposal.
“I always knew what he was about.”
“Yeah, thanks for warning me.”
The flat glare I get in return is almost comical. Frank’s not one to stick his nose into other people’s business, but he did grumble about Cody’s work ethic. I ignored him because customers loved Cody so much. And because I loved him.
After Gigi officially signed the properties and the business over to me and left for the nursing home, things changed.
Cody moved into my house and began introducing himself as an owner around here.
He helped himself to cash from the safe on occasion, to cover his truck payments and other loans.
He picked fights with Frank almost daily to try to force him to move.
But it was the day Cody showed up with that negotiated offer for my land that the light bulb went off and I realized we were never going to work. He might have truly loved me, but he loved the idea of getting his hands on all that money more.
It’s been a year since I kicked Cody’s ass out and I’m still angry with myself for not seeing through him from day one. When I think about that momentary lapse of judgment where I considered putting him on the deed to my house, I feel like vomiting.
“Good thing I’ve added vetoing my dates to your job description then, huh?” I say half jokingly as I refresh my computer screen. I no longer trust my gut where men are concerned.
Another cruise booking appears. “It’s like everyone woke up from hibernation all at once. At least we’re getting bookings, even if we don’t have staff. ”
“Hibernation sounds good.” Frank checks his watch. He’s been here since 5:00 a.m. “Other side’s locked up for the day. If you don’t need me, I’m gonna head home and grab a few hours of sleep.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later. Hey, can you stop by Dollar General and grab me some more poster board?”
“No, Sloane.” He shakes his head fervently. “This isn’t healthy—” His scolding words are cut off at the ding of the doorbell, as two brawny male customers step inside.
“The bros are back in town,” Frank murmurs under his breath, earning my elbow.
If there’s a type that annoys him, it’s the loud, obnoxious twenty-somethings whose mamas have told them they’re God’s gift to the world enough times that they wholeheartedly believe it.
Their type flocks here for guys’ weekends like perverts to a wet T-shirt contest.
I can’t tell if these two fit that mold. They’re certainly fit . The blond has to be a gym rat, given the size of his chest and arms. The tattooed one is also built, but not nearly as bulky. He certainly doesn’t scream frat boy or easygoing, his angular face stony, his eyes hidden behind aviators.
I splash on my customer-friendly smile, despite my sour mood. “Can I help you two with something?”
“Yeah, this whiny little bitch needs a coffee before he’ll let me eat.” The blond jerks his thumb at his friend, showing off perfect teeth with his grin. I’ll bet that gets a lot of women giggling like fools.
The dark-haired guy’s hard expression doesn’t so much as crack, as if he’s used to his buddy’s digs. Or he’s just had a really long day.
“Coffee shop is on the other side, and it’s closed.” Frank folds his brawny arms.
“See?” Blondie smacks the other’s chest. “What’d I tell you. It’s officially beer o’clock.” He looks around. “You don’t serve beer here, do you?”
“Nope,” Frank says with forced patience.
The blond scans the white shiplap-clad space, waving a hand at the beach chair and umbrella set up in the corner. “What’s all this about, then?”
I’ll bet this one’s a lot to handle. But I may as well promote us while they’re here.
Surely they have thick wallets. “We rent them out to tourists. We also rent paddleboards, and we now have Jet Skis available. And we do tiki bar cruises, if you and your friends want a tour around the area with a drink in your hand.”
“Hence the Brews and Cruises on the sign,” he muses.
“Exactly. We still have slots available for this weekend. It’s a great way to spend an afternoon.”
Frank taps the wall next to him, plastered with bikini-clad groups toasting drinks and splashing water for the camera.
The blond edges over to investigate the customer photos with interest. “Where’s this at?”
“Starfish Island. It’s about a ten-minute ride out, past the …”
While Frank describes the idyllic spot where tourists linger for hours during high season, the other guy meanders to my desk with a lazy stride.
“Connor can be loud and annoying, but underneath it all, he’s a mediocre friend and an exhausting roommate,” he says by way of greeting, his voice deep and raspy.
I chuckle at his dry humor. “You’re lucky to have him.”
“That’s what he keeps telling me.” The guy’s attention lands on the framed photo hanging on the wall next to me. “‘Gigi, the original sea witch,’” he reads out loud. “Who was she?”
“She is my grandmother. That picture was taken in front of the shop the first day it opened, almost forty years ago.” I smile at Gigi back then—her blond hair tied back in braids, a traditional lei hanging around her neck.
He slides off his aviators. “Disney or Greek? ”
“Huh?” I manage, caught off guard by both his question and his piercing green eyes.
He smirks. “Which version of sea witch?”
“Oh … I don’t know. It was what my grandfather called her.” I stumble over my answer. Since when are bros interested in plaques and family history? “He was Hawaiian, and he believed in mermaids.”
His gaze drifts over my face, as if searching for hints of island ancestry in my ashy blond hair and olive skin. “And sea witches, apparently.”
“Apparently.”
“Weird pet name.” This guy has a cool, calm way about him.
“Actually, it was meant to be an insult.” Once, Gigi and my grandfather had a huge fight before he went out fishing.
He lost his boat—and nearly his life—in a squall that day and accused her of putting a curse on him.
She didn’t deny it, figured she’d let him fear her a bit.
After that, every time something went wrong in their lives, it had to be the work of the sea witch in her.
“They divorced, and she moved to Mermaid Beach out of spite.”
The corners of his mouth curl. God, he is a beautiful man. “Your grandmother sounds like a smart woman.”
“She’s the best.” I bite my bottom lip to stop from grinning like a fool. “First time in Mermaid Beach?”
“First time.”
Strange. There’s something familiar about this guy. I feel like I’ve seen his face before. “Where are you from?”
“Miami, most recently.”
“We’ll hook something up. Right, Ronan?” The blond—Connor, he called him—booms, cutting into our conversation.
“Yeah, I’m in,” Ronan says, but his weighty gaze never leaves me, and it feels like his answer has nothing to do with a tiki cruise or beach chairs.
A tremble runs through my body .
Frank appears at my side and announces, “You can book online. Coffee shop opens at 7:00 a.m.,” in that brusque way of his that borders on rude, even if he doesn’t mean it to be.
Ronan’s smile grows wider. “I think that’s our cue to leave.”
“Good, ’cause I’m gonna pass out.” Connor pats his stomach, drawing my focus to the ridges of muscle. He’s annoying but hot, I’ll give him that.
Sliding his glasses back on, Ronan collects a business card from the counter, pausing to read it. “See you around, Sloane .”
I let out a shaky breath as I watch their backs disappear out the door.
“Veto,” Frank says on the tail end of the door jangle.
I roll my eyes. “You honestly think I could spend more than two minutes in a room with him before I stabbed him?”
“Not that idiot. This one.” Frank taps the counter where Ronan stood a moment ago. “He’s dangerous.”
“They were here for, like, two minutes!” I laugh, and it lifts a bit of the cloud that has settled on this place. “Dangerous how ?”
His brow pulls together tightly. “Like he’ll teach you things you don’t need to learn.”
“Ooh, that sounds like fun.” I waggle my eyebrows, earning his glower.
“I’m a grown-ass, thirty-one-year-old woman.
” Who has never woken up in bed next to a guy I met the day before or had a casual fling.
I’ve lost the interest of more than one guy because I didn’t put out by the third date.
Gigi swears it’s a good method for weeding out the assholes.
It wasn’t foolproof, though. Cody put in the time—we didn’t sleep together for almost two months.
Turns out he was hooking up with weekend beachgoers behind my back—something I learned after our breakup.
“You know, I should start having one-night stands. Relationships don’t seem to be working out for me.”
“Great idea. Let me know so I can get my BB gun ready. ”
A mental image of the giant guy sitting on his trailer porch steps taking aim at some poor, unsuspecting fool hits me and I start giggling.
A rare—and I mean cougar-sighting rare—smile splits Franks face in two.
So, naturally, I ruin it. “Now, about that poster board …”