My Unexpected Vow: California Billionaires Book 2 by Harlow James (top 10 inspirational books txt) 📕

grey chairs positioned at the end of my bed, loving the way the air hits my balls and makes me feel free. Once I’m finished, I traipse back down the stairs to the kitchen to fill a glass of water and mark every room of the lower level with my blatant nakedness.

I’m not typically a walk-around-the-house-naked kind of guy, but since I won’t have that option starting tomorrow, might as well take advantage. I make sure all the doors are locked, and the alarm is armed before heading back upstairs, throwing on a pair of boxer briefs, and then getting comfortable in bed. I reach for my phone on my nightstand and see a new text from Waverly.

Waverly: All packed. Movers will be here at seven. Should be at your place no later than nine, I assume.

Me: Sounds good. I’m ready for you, Beaverly.

I laugh, visualizing the narrowing of her eyes as she reads my message. One perk of her living with me is free access to ‘round-the-clock entertainment of driving her insane. I’m going to try to be on my best behavior, but hell, even I know that won’t last long.

Waverly: Bite me, Hayes.

Me: Just tell me where, sweetheart.

I wait to see if she’ll reply, but much to my disappointment, she doesn’t.

Oh well. Soon she’ll be near all the time, so she’ll have no choice but to stare back at me as I grin from ear to ear.

Tomorrow starts the next six months of my life. Six months of pulling in my restraint, putting on a show for those close to us, and remembering the end goal in all of this.

I only hope I can survive.

Chapter 4

Waverly

“I can’t believe you’re really leaving me,” Emma whines as I turn back to face her. The movers are loading the last of my things in the truck and I’m leading them over to Hayes’s house in my car. We’re standing outside of the lobby of our condo building, the place I’ve called home for almost five years now, and a sense of remorse comes over me as the bright California sun bathes me in warmth on this chilly January day.

“Let this be a lesson to you, bestie. Don’t get piss drunk in Vegas or you might end up married to a man you despise and be forced to move in with him.”

She gives me a sympathetic smile and then pulls me in for a hug. “I know why you’re doing this, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Agreed. I don’t particularly like the idea either, but I honestly think it’s for the best.”

“I wish I would have spoken up, told you it was a stupid idea,” she adds as we part.

“Yeah, me too. That’s the thing a best friend would have done.” I wink at her so she knows I’m playing, but part of me wishes she had been sober enough to interrupt Elvis when he asked if anyone had any objections to the marriage. Do they even still do that part in a marriage ceremony? I wish I could remember.

I’ve never been blackout drunk before, but of course, with my luck, it happened the night I married Hayes.

“I think we were all wrapped up in the fun of it all, the spontaneity and the shock value of the idea. Too bad we can’t turn back time.”

“If only Cher had not only coined that phrase with her hit song, but figured out a way to do that for real,” I tease, using humor as my defense mechanism because on the inside, I’m nervous as all hell.

“We’d all be thanking her profusely.” Emma hugs me once more and then follows me down the sidewalk to my car. “Text me as much as you can. Remember I’m still here even though we’re not living together anymore. And don’t be afraid to let me know if I need to drive to his house and give him the best friend threat.”

I laugh. “And what would that be?”

“That he’d better treat you well, not be an ass just because you’re moving into his home, and he’d better pick up his shit and use his fucking manners.”

“God, I would love to see you reem him. Maybe we’ll just have to arrange that one day. I’m sure Hayes will do many things to piss me off over the next six months.”

“I give him a week before you’re plotting his death.”

“No, I’ve thought about it. Murdering him would land me in prison, which is much worse than divorce.” Emma smirks at me as I open my car door. “Besides, I’m feisty and strong-willed. I’m sure I can handle him.”

“I’m not sure who I’m more worried for—him or you.”

“Me either.” I kiss her on the cheek and then slip inside the driver’s seat, waving at my best friend as I take off for Hayes’s home with the truck of my belongings behind me.

Hayes said I didn’t need to bring furniture, but there were a few items like my desk and some décor from my room that I couldn’t live without. And of course my clothes. That’s what the majority of the space in the small moving truck is filled with. I left the bulk of the big items in the condo with Emma, like my bed and dresser, waiting for my return—because I will be back. Six months is what we agreed to and not a day longer. I’ll be lucky to survive that length of time at this point anyway, and it will probably breeze by, so there was no sense in putting my belongings in storage. Emma comes from a family with money like me, and she’s working at a PR firm now, so I know she can afford the rent on her own, even though I feel guilty for leaving her.

The drive to Hayes’s house is not a long one, only about twenty minutes with the early Saturday morning traffic. Normally, Emma and I are walking around the farmer’s market