Irresistible Bachelors: Books 1-5 by Landish, Lauren (bts books to read TXT) 📕

and joy, and my brother’s too. He designed the water recycling system, and there is very little wasted water here.”

She opens the front door, and inside, I’m amazed again. Everything is airy, light, and open, with breezes trickling through the wide open windows. “Wow, this is a fantastic house,” I whisper. “I didn’t expect this.”

“You’re just in time,” Alani says. “Wesley is meeting with the other two guests.”

“Other two guests?” I ask. “I was under the impression that we had a meeting with Wesley to discuss the property. Was there some mix-up?”

“No, no. Come.” Her face is a mystery, and I give Cassie a worried glance, but she just shrugs. She’s right. Roll with it.

Alani leads us through the house to a room with two large double doors. She taps on the door once before pushing it open, the doors sweeping back on silent hinges to reveal a huge central room. The floors are lined in woven mats, and all around are carved images, I’m guessing Hawaiian idols or something, with the center of the room dominated by a huge fireplace built of volcanic rock.

Three men are inside, one with some kind of bird perched on his shoulder. That’s Mr. Mobber. It has to be. “Wesley, Miss Hannah and her associate, Cassie.”

“Thank you,” Wesley says, and the two men with Wesley turn around.

My jaw drops as I see the dark hair, green eyes, and memories from the night of Roxy’s wedding come flooding back. “What is going on here?”

Tony

It’s show time.

“You ready?” I say, turning away from the bedroom mirror and straightening my outfit.

I’ve opted for a blue blazer and khaki slacks, while Caleb chooses a tropical weight light gray suit. I figured we’d dress nice for the meeting—first impressions and all.

Caleb straightens his cufflinks and flashes a cocky grin. “Does it look like I’m ready?”

I grin and grab our keys while Caleb double checks his bag, and we head down to the lobby. On the way, I send a text to Oli.

Going to meet with Mr. Mobber now. Game face on.

He replies quickly, even though it’s gotta be late at night for him now.

I have faith in u.

We jump in the rented SUV and pull off, both of us quiet as we follow the car navigation to Mobber’s property. Coming over the hill, I’m shocked as I take it all in. The place looks totally self-sufficient—solar panels, windmills, and agriculture for days.

We pull up to the house, stopping at the gate. A beautiful Hawaiian woman seems to materialize out of nowhere, knocking quietly on my window.

“Are you Anthony Steele? she asks. I nod, and she breaks out into a smile. “Great, Wesley’s been expecting you. My name’s Alani.”

She opens the gate on the driveway and we pull through, pausing as she climbs in the rear seat. “I’m Caleb,” Caleb says as she gives him a polite smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She smiles and orders me to pull around to the back to park.

“Are you his secretary?” Caleb asks, and I can tell he’s attracted to her.

Alani smiles, chuckling as she shakes her head. “No. I’m his wife.”

Caleb and I exchange glances, and he mutters under his breath, “Shit, my bad.”

We pull around the house, park, and get out. “You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Mobber.”

“Please, just Alani. Wesley and I rarely stand on formality,” she says, leading us into the house. We follow her through the rather primitive looking kitchen before Alani guides us to two massive double doors. “He’s in here.”

The double doors open into an immense room, and I see a man, deeply tanned, wearing cutoff camo pants and a green tank top. His hair hangs down his back in large braids, and his eyes are closed behind the orange sunglasses he’s wearing. He’s sitting on a large woven mat in the classic lotus meditation position, murmuring something to himself. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s either trying to conjure up a nature spirit or Wesley Mobber is a Buddhist.

So much for dressing to impress.

“Wesley?” Alani says, and he opens his eyes, a slightly snaggle-toothed grin coming to his lean face. He raises his arms. They’re nearly skeletal thin but corded in wiry muscle as he rolls back and, in a nifty move worthy of any ninja movie, he kip-ups to his feet in one smooth motion. He snaps his left hand, and out of the shadows above us there’s a squawk, and a large colorful parrot or something settles on his shoulder.

“Anthony Steele!” he says, bouncing on his feet with an almost manic energy. With all the hopping, I have no fucking clue how the parrot stays on his shoulder without digging in its claws, but it does, and after a moment, he stops, walking forward and offering his hand. “Long days and pleasant nights!”

“Uh . . .” I reply, trying to figure out where the hell this man came from besides a mushroom patch. “Yes, Tony Steele. Nice to meet you.”

“Tony Steele . . . well, I hope you can show me your armor at some point,” Wesley says, not shaking hands but slapping palms. Up close, he’s got a scent to him, and I crinkle my nose. Whatever this guy’s smoking, it sure as hell isn’t on any DEA-approved list. “My man! Who’s your soul bro with you?”

“Caleb, sir. I’m Tony’s associate, learning the ropes a little,” Caleb says. Wesley smirks at the use of the term sir but shakes Caleb’s hand.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting another, but that’s fine. We got plenty of pineapple juice and more. Alani, can we get some refreshment for our guests?”

She leaves, and Wesley looks over our clothing disapprovingly, clucking his tongue. “You shouldn't have worn something so formal. It will just get dirty. I did say casual, right? Or did I say business casual? Hell, I guess it won’t matter tonight. We’ll adjust,” he mutters before waving it off. “No matter, you’ll do nicely for the games.”

“Games?” I ask, confused. “What games?”

Wesley ignores