My Unexpected Vow: California Billionaires Book 2 Harlow James (scary books to read txt) 📖

bar looks fantastic. I’m curious to see what the designer comes up with once we’re ready for that step.”

“Well, why don’t I tell you?” A tall brunette steps across the concrete floors, her heels clicking away on the cold surface. “Abigail Lyle. Nice to meet you, Mr. Weston.” She reaches out her hand and I offer mine in return, but I don’t miss the way her eyes dance up and down my body appreciatively. However, I’m not even tempted to reciprocate, especially when I notice the talons on her fingers.

“Likewise.”

“Such a shame we haven’t met before. I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy working with you.” The woman is bold, I give her that.

Sidestepping her comment, I move the conversation forward. “So, tell me what you envision.”

“I’d be happy to.” Another pass of her eyes down my chest and then she clicks away on her iPad. “I’m seeing black and red—red booths, red lighting, black sconces on the walls with color-changing lights…” She walks past me as Ian and I follow her to the bar.

“Black and red, huh?”

“Yes. You can still incorporate Western themes with those colors, but it will enhance the atmosphere of the nightlife we’re trying to attract.” Her confident smile reaches her eyes until Waverly comes up beside me and threads her arm through the crook of my elbow. And Abigail notices immediately as the glint in her eyes vanishes.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says, peering up at me before turning her attention to Abigail.

“No interruption. Abigail, let me introduce you to my wife,” I say proudly, surprising myself as I try to hide my reaction from everyone else in the room. Why is there a flutter in my chest as I introduce Waverly using that label?

“Waverly Morgan…well, Weston now, isn’t it babe?” Waverly looks up at me once more, smiling for Ian and Abigail, and I know it’s part of the act. But there’s something about the way her smile reaches her eyes that has my stomach clenching, almost like she’s not just acting, like the brightness in her eyes is actually reserved for me.

Knock it off, Hayes. This is business. Remember that your little ruse is serving a purpose. And hey, as an added bonus, it gives you a clear reason to avoid being hit on by the piranha in heels.

“Oh. Well, congratulations, Mr. Weston. Forgive me, but I had no idea you were married.” Abigail flashes a tight-lipped smile and then clicks on her iPad.

“It’s new, right, babe?” My eyes lower to find Waverly smirking at Abigail.

“Yes. New and unexpected. But you can’t fight fate, can you, babe?”

I swallow hard and then lean in and press a kiss to her temple, a move that surprises me with how natural it feels even though I know it’s just for show. “Right.”

Abigail nods, and then leads us around the club, showing us mock-ups of her design—more red and black details everywhere we go. Her ideas aren’t bad, but feel overdone. I politely smile as I hear Waverly hum next to me as Abigail speaks, her brows furrowing every now and then at a detail she explains.

By the time Abigail leaves and Ian and I sit down, my brain is starting to fry with how much is left to be done. Most investors care about the details of a business they invest in like I do, but for me, I think I’m addicted more to the process of helping build a business from the ground up. I care about what my name is attached to and like to remain confident in where my money is going. I also want to have a say in the product we’re selling, and in the good ol’ city of Las Vegas, we’re selling sex and sin with a flair for uniqueness. This club needs to emanate that.

Ian and I take a seat at one table near the bar as he hands me a stack of papers to glance over. My eyes scour the lines as I take in the permits and inventory sheets when a flash of blonde hair catches my eye from my seated position. Waverly glides across the room, her eyes moving magnetically across every surface and wall as her dress swishes with each of her steps. Her head is spinning as she turns and purses her lips in thought just before writing down something on the notepad she’s been carrying, the same repetition of movements happening every few minutes.

“What are you doing?” I call out to her.

Popping her head up from her notepad, she twists in my direction. “Nothing.”

“Alright,” I reply, not buying it, but not in the mood to argue with her either. “I’m almost done here.”

“It’s fine. Take your time.” She smiles brightly and then goes back to assessing the room while I shake my head at her peculiar behavior.

“Okay, as I was saying …” I start, but a tickle on my neck has my heart racing in the flash of a millisecond.

“What the fuck?” I shout, leaping from my chair and gripping my neck, swatting at my skin as I feel the tickle hit me once more and I really start to panic.

“Hayes!” Waverly rushes across the room to me and Ian stands from his chair, perplexed by my crazy behavior.

But I can feel it. The fucker is on me and I’m going to die.

“Get it off! Get it off!”

“Get what off?” Waverly shouts back, searching my body for the creature that I know is attacking me.

“There’s a spider on me!”

“Stop moving so I can see!”

“I can’t!” I’m hopping around now, throwing my neck from side to side, still smacking my head and the back of my neck where I can feel the fucker moving and staking out the perfect spot to bite me.

“Hayes! What do you think is on you? I don’t see anything!”

“It’s a spider,” I grit, borderline hyperventilating.

I know what you’re thinking right now: this grown-ass man is flapping his arms and hitting himself in the head over a spider? In front