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

the driver, an old man named Sam, stands ready for us. “The Wentworth Estate. Please watch your step on the gravel, Miss.”

I step out, relishing the cool breeze that blows in lightly from the east, caressing my soft flesh as I take in the scenery. It’s a beautiful day with sunny, clear skies, the large French Provincial mansion looming against the azure sky. If I weren’t so nervous, I’d be amazed.

“Don’t worry about your bags,” Sam says when Oli makes a move to grab them out of the back of the limo. “The house staff will get them and make sure they’re delivered to the proper bedroom.”

Oliver gives me a look. “The house staff?”

I just shrug. I knew John had money, but I’ve never cared enough to find out exactly how much. I was expecting a nice big house, not a damn castle with house staff. “I’m just rollin’ with it.”

“If you’ll come with me,” the driver says.

Sam leads us to the cobblestone walkway that leads to the huge double-door entry of the mansion. As we head up, Oliver places his hand on the small of my back. Warm currents begin to ripple out from his touch, and I squirm on the inside, flustered.

“What are you doing?” I whisper out of the side of my mouth, alarmed by what his touch is doing to me. How am I supposed to share a bedroom with this man for a whole week?

“Being your fiancé,” he whispers back, grinning at me. “Come on, Princess. Let’s meet the fam.”

He says it so sweetly that I almost wish it were true for a second. A part of me likes being on his strong arm, though I’d never admit it to him.

By the time we reach the double doors, my forehead is dotted in sweat. My heart is pounding in my chest like I just sprinted a half-mile or something. Truth be told, I'm overcome with sudden anxiety.

Too late to worry now, I realize as Sam puts his hand on the twin handles of the front door. I’m in too deep.

The large door springs open before the driver can turn the handles, and out steps my mother with a small barking dog, a fluffy white Pomeranian at her side. Sam springs out of the way, pretty spry for a guy his age, which is a good thing or else he’d get run over.

“Mindy, my darling!” My mother sings, stepping forward with her arms outstretched. The woman is practically dripping in diamonds, with a matching necklace, bracelet, and earring set over top of her white brocade dress that flows down her body all the way to her ankles. “It’s been so long!”

“Mom,” I say as we embrace. I smell her perfume, and it smells expensive as hell. “I’ve missed you.”

I pull back and feel tears forming in my eyes as I survey her. Her face looks different from when I last saw her. The wrinkles that had begun to show around her eyes are mysteriously gone, along with her forehead wrinkles. It’s a little weird, and I wonder if Mom’s just feeling youthful from love or if she had a little help from Botox.

“You’re lookin’ good. Not as good as me, but you’d do just fine in a singles bar on Ladies’ Night.”

My mother laughs. “Yeah, well, that’s in the past for me. You look good too, honey. I never could have worn a dress like that at your age.”

“Who’s this little lady?” I say, gesturing at the dog who’s running circles around our feet, barking and carrying on in an attempt to deflect attention away from my dress. I feel nervous enough feeling Oliver’s hand still on my lower back. I can’t decide if I want his hand higher . . . or lower.

“Oh, that’s Bertha,” Mom says with a dismissive wave of her hand, “a puppy John got me several months into our courtship. She’s a handful, but I can’t imagine this place without her.”

Weird name for a tiny little dog if you ask me, but hey. Mom turns her gaze on Oliver, her eyes widening as if noticing him for the first time. “Mindy, you never said your young man was this handsome. Why, you’re practically perfect!”

“He is,” I mutter, not quite sure what I’m agreeing with. I step away from Oliver, using hand gestures to complete the introductions. “Harold this is my mother, Mary Jo. Mom, this is Harold.”

Oliver grins, taking my mother's hand and gently kissing the back of it, his eyes twinkling. “It’s a pleasure, Ma’am. They say that a man can see his future wife when he looks at her mother . . . and I’m a lucky man.”

My mom looks at me approvingly, sounding slightly out of breath. “Ooh, Mindy, I like him.”

“Don’t be fooled,” I say under my breath before replying, “Thanks, Mom.”

Mom shakes her head, running her hand down the length of Oliver’s arm in admiration as if he’s a toy on display. “You must work out a lot, Harold. You’ll like the gym, I hope.”

“Oliver, please,” he says gently. When my mom looks at him in question, he chuckles. “I prefer to go by my middle name.”

She looks at me, her eyes accusing. “How come you never told me that?”

“I . . .” I’m at a loss for words when Oliver saves me.

“She’s always forgetting things,” Oliver cuts in. “She even forgot the day we first met and when I decided to honor my grandfather by going by my middle name.”

I turn a dark scowl on Oliver, trying to tell him to stop it with my eyes.

He grins at me and winks, but before I can reply, I hear a voice from the doorway. “Well I heard that you had your mother’s beauty, but that just doesn’t do it justice. It’s good to finally meet you, Mindy.”

A white-haired, distinguished-looking man steps through the doorway, dressed in a fine gray suit and tie, everything about him perfectly groomed.

“Honey! Mindy, this is John, my wonderful fiancé,” my mom