Own Me (The Wolf Hotel, #5)

“Does it matter?”

I unceremoniously drop my bags to free my hands, and punch in the code. “Well, yeah. If it’s Lord of the Rings, that’s over a thousand pages I could first read for entertainment and then burn for—”

“Surprise!”

I shriek as I take in the small crowd of familiar faces and the enormous “Happy Birthday” balloon archway that stretches across the living room.

Henry steps forward wearing a satisfied grin.

I burst into tears as I dive into his arms.





“You seriously had no idea?” Connor towers over me, his cornflower-blue eyes sparkling, his Miami-tanned skin making mine look especially pasty. “Because I totally fucked up last week and said ‘See you on Saturday’ in my text.”

“I didn’t even notice,” I admit sheepishly.

“Huh. So, Abbi doesn’t read our messages anymore.” Connor smacks Ronan in the chest, nearly knocking his beer out of his grip. “Good to know.”

“No, that’s not it. I’ve just been so busy with work.”

“How’s all that going, anyway?” Ronan asks.

“Amazing. We keep doubling our special-order inventory and selling out. I’ve had to hire full-time staff for production, and we’re already looking at a larger location to lease out. We’re going to rent land from my parents to grow the herbs.” Mama and Daddy will make money while the Mitchell farm supports their daughter’s business. They’re onboard.

“See?” He clanks his glass against mine. “Told you that magazine didn’t matter.”

I don’t want to talk about work, though. “I can’t believe Henry pulled this off from the other side of the world.” He said he made reservations for a birthday dinner tomorrow night.

“He has reliable minions to do his bidding.” Ronan juts his chin toward Raj, Miles, and Violet, who are laughing about something at a dessert table loaded with candies and cakes—apparently, Violet’s contribution to the party planning with Sasha.

“Either way, I’m so glad you guys could come.” I haven’t seen any of them, save for Ronan, since I left Alaska. My face hurts from all the smiling and laughing, catching up with Connor, as well as Katie and Rachel, and seeing Autumn in person. Even Jed and Laura made it here. Shocking, that Henry would extend the invitation but it’s also rather big of him. For Jed’s part, he’s been friendly.

Henry reappears, a fresh champagne glass in hand. “For the birthday girl.” He leans in to give me a deep kiss that’s far too intimate for the current audience. But I think that might be the whole point—a reminder for the two men I’m talking to that Henry won and I’m taken.

“Thank you for the drink.” I sink into his side.

“Oh, look, all my favorite people in one place again,” Margo purrs, her lanky arm coiling around Connor’s waist as she smiles up at him.

The last time the five of us were together was complete debauchery. In fact, every time I’m with Margo—save for the night after the Halloween party when Henry and I left early—depraved things happen.

“There are people under the age of eighteen here,” I remind her.

“Ah yes, you mean Violet? I just spoke to her. She is precious, Henry.”

Connor peers over my head with interest. “Yeah, who is that girl you came in here with? ’Cause damn.”

Beside me, Henry’s entire body stiffens.

Oh no. “Connor, that is Henry’s—”

“Daughter,” Henry cuts me off before I can say cousin. “And she’s sixteen,” he adds through gritted teeth.

My stomach leaps. It’s the first time Henry has ever openly admitted to their real connection outside his inner circle. I wonder if he’ll regret it later.

Connor lifts his free hand in the air, genuine shock filling his face. “Got it. Say no more.”

Henry’s phone rings. “Excuse me for a minute?” He presses a kiss against my temple, throws another daggered look at Connor, and then leaves to answer.

“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.