Home > Popular Books > Own Me (The Wolf Hotel, #5)(102)

Own Me (The Wolf Hotel, #5)(102)

Author:K.A. Tucker

“Dude.” Ronan shakes his head. “You really stepped in it.”

“Fuck. How would I know? You knew?”

“I knew.” Ronan smirks around a sip of his beer.

“Why didn’t you warn me?” He snaps, and then his handsome face scrunches. “And how is that even possible? How fucking old is Wolf?”

“It’s a long story, but we’re keeping it out of the news as long as we can, so please don’t say anything.” I give him my best pleading stare. “We don’t want her going through that.”

“I won’t say a word to anyone.” He shakes his head to emphasize his promise, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Connor wear such a somber face.

“Are you staying in the hotel tonight?” Margo asks, swaying against his body like a cat in heat.

Connor gives his head a shake and then as quickly as the seriousness arrived, it fades. “Depends.” He flashes that signature cocky grin. “Where are you staying?”

Not in this penthouse with Violet here, that’s for sure.

“Abigail.” Henry’s voice pulls me away from the overt display.

“Yes?” I don’t even note that he’s used my full name until a beat later. My smile falls off instantly. “What is it?” What has made Henry’s face look so grim?

“It’s Howard.”

CHAPTER 24

Violet snores softly in my ear, her head resting on my shoulder, as I sit and watch Henry and Gayle speak to the doctor on call.

The ambulance brought Howard to a nice hospital, at least. It looks new, built within the last ten years maybe. And it’s quiet at this late hour.

But it’s still a hospital where people die, and Howard still had a stroke.

Henry thanks the doctor and waits a beat for Gayle to maneuver with her cane, going so far as to extend his arm, which she accepts with a smile. They slowly make their way over.

“How bad is it?” I whisper.

“Not great, but it could have been much worse,” Henry says. “They got him in and on the clot-busting drugs quickly.”

“That’s good news.” My shoulders sink with relief.

But Henry’s brow is furrowed.

“One minute we were talking about a character on the TV show, and the next, Howard was saying gibberish. Nothing made sense. Thank goodness that cell phone was within reach.” Gayle shakes her head. “I’m so sorry we ruined your celebration, Abbi. I was going to wait until tomorrow to call, but—”

“No, we’re glad you didn’t wait,” Henry cuts her off, a slight reprimand in his tone, as if even suggesting that Gayle not calling us would be offensive.

“Absolutely,” I echo. We left everyone in the penthouse, telling them to stay as long as they wanted. I’m sure they’ve found a way to entertain themselves. Hopefully, it’s not in our bed.

Violet stirs with a sharp inhale. “Gramps?” She peers up at Henry with sleepy eyes.

“He’s going to be okay.” He leans down and brushes hair off her forehead. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“Wow.” Henry looks around the penthouse. Aside from the multitude of candy jars, the flower arrangements, and the enormous archway of balloons, all evidence of a party is gone.

“Sasha’s people are good.”

“More likely Raj, even though he was here as a guest.” Henry sinks into the couch, his head falling back. He must be exhausted from the travel, considering he flew in from the other side of the world this afternoon. “Remind me to give him a huge bonus.”

I tumble down next to him, molding myself against his side. I haven’t seen him all week. “Thank you for the party.” I lick the sharp jut of his neck. “And for bringing my friends here.” I trail my lips along his jawline. “For everything.” I end with my lips against his in a tender kiss.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Abbi. You know that.” His voice is scratchy, as if he just woke up. “That reminds me.” With another kiss, he peels away. “I’ll be back in a sec.” He pulls himself up and disappears down the hall, to his office, I assume, and then returns with a red jewelry box. “Happy birthday.”

I gingerly slide the cardboard off. And gasp. “Henry.”

“Violet said you two were out shopping and you really liked this one.”

“Yes, but this is too much.” I remember the strangled sound I made when I asked the man behind the Cartier counter for the price.