Worth Every Cent
Worth Every Cent
Worth It Series, Volume 2
Lexy Timms
Published by Dark Shadow Publishing, 2018.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
WORTH EVERY CENT
First edition. July 16, 2018.
Copyright © 2018 Lexy Timms.
ISBN: 978-1386807469
Written by Lexy Timms.
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Copyright 2018 Lexy Timms
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
All rights reserved.
Worth Every Cent
Worth It Series #2
Copyright 2018 by Lexy Timms
Cover by: Book Cover by Design
Worth It Series
Worth Billions
Book 1
Worth Every Cent
Book 2
Worth More Than Money
Book 3
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Worth Every Cent Blurb
SECRETS ARE DISEASES, and my life is full of them.
Going back to where I grew up solved nothing. Coming back home brought no peace. And now—as I look over Anton's last piece of property—I still have no peace.
My godfather's death brought a woman into my life. But a stupid argument ripped her away. I can't stop thinking about her. Wondering about her. Dreaming about her. All I know is I have to see her. I have to feel her body pressed against me again.
Secrets are diseases, and my life is full of them.
But she isn't innocent either. And encounters in my hometown after a brawl in a bar make me wonder if my money is all she's after. Will she forgive the things I said? Can she look past the rumors and see the man I am now? Or are my assumptions of her true?
One thing's for certain. One big, bold truth that keeps me up at night: I think I've fallen for the woman with the thick red hair and the eyes that sparkle with delight.
Warning: This is a steamy romance story that includes adult content suitable for readers 18+
WORTH IT SERIES:
Worth Billions
Worth Every Cent
Worth More Than Money
Contents
Worth It Series
Find Lexy Timms:
Worth Every Cent Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Worth More Than Money Blurb
Worth It Series
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Chapter 1
Grayson
The sun crept behind the hills of my multi-million dollar estate. It was my favorite moment of time with my vineyards. At least, it used to be. Now, everything felt lame. Long and boring, like the rest of my days. Empty. Ghostly, after my time in Stillsville. I sat there on the terrace, sipping a glass of my newest creation as I jotted down a few notes. Things I wanted to change. Earthy and fruity notes I wanted to try for the next batch. Things I enjoyed about this batch that I wanted to keep as our signature taste.
Trying to keep my mind off the horrors of my hometown.
The sun cast colors along the sky that would have sank anyone to their knees. Many women had sank to their knees for it, for me. I used to come out onto the terrace and watch the sunset to clear my head. To arrange my next week’s affairs, or even to remind myself how far I’d come. How lucky I was to be in the position I found myself, despite my upbringing. But as I sat there and sipped my glass of wine, the only thing I wondered was how everything had turned to shit.
I closed my eyes and replayed that last day in Stillsville over and over again in my mind. I’d memorized it, and I could quote it. If I concentrated hard enough, I could even smell it. I had been upset with Michelle before I had ever walked through that door, but I hadn’t been angry at her. I’d been angry at Andy for causing such a scene. The only thing that even remotely was targeted at Michelle was how devastated I’d been to figure out that Andy was her bullshit ex.
Why the fuck had I unleashed on her like that?
She had been equally upset. She sat there with her poised expression and Maria’s letter poking out of that damn box. I knew I should’ve gotten rid of it. She cornered me, wanting to know all my secrets without spilling any of hers. She had no right to that information. Especially since she had been so damn secretive herself. And after watching her scoop up my money off that damn kitchen table and walk out without another word, part of me still wondered if she was just another one of them. Another useless woman in a quest for my wallet instead of me. Who didn’t care enough to stick around unless I shelled out money to make it worth their while.
But in the grand scheme of things, I didn’t bother sticking around either.
I’d locked up Anton’s house that night, turned in my rental car, and took off on my private jet. I soared back to Napa Valley without a second thought and left all those questions and all that shit in my rearview mirror. They could kiss my ass for all I cared. I owed that damn town nothing.
And yet, my mind still migrated back to Michelle whenever I fell asleep.
A loud sound on my terrace table made me jump and I looked over to see what the hell had happened. A familiar face came into view, with deep brown eyes that swam with wisdom, and that wispy black hair piled high on her head. Maria slammed a stack of folders down onto the table beside me, before taking up the only other chair that overlooked the vineyard at night.
“It’s after hours,” I said.
She giggled and shook her head as she leaned back into the chair.
“A billionaire entrepreneur’s work is never finished,” Maria said. “Plus, I needed to get these to you.”
“What are they?”
“Last month’s sales tallies. Customer reviews. I highlighted the ones that keep repeating themselves, but the others are funny to read. My personal favorite is ‘this wine tastes like my grandmother’s ass.’ What I want to know is why that person can draw such a conclusion.”
A grin spread across my cheeks as I set my empty wine glass down onto the table.
“The newest brew?” she asked.
“Mhm.”
“How’d it turn out?”
“I’m making some notes.”
“So, not good.”
“Not great, but not terrible,” I said.
“These top four folders are from the men were you supposed to meet with.
I finally got their attention with that threat of yours, and they sent me over the information I needed so you could make your decision without a face-to-face meeting. But if you want my opinion, two of them are massive football fans.”
“Ah,” I said.
“Exactly. So now you have the information you need to make your decision without two football fans drooling over your existence. Grayson?”
“Mhm?”
“What did I just say?” she asked.
“Wine, folders, football fans, something about drooling on people.”
I felt her turn into my direction and knew she was shifting roles.
“You’ve been distracted lately,” she said.
Her voice always got lower and more commanding when she switched into this mode.
“Not so distracted I can’t make critiques,” I said, as I held up my piece of paper.
“Have you looked at it?”
“What?”
“Look at it.”
My eyes whipped over to the piece of paper and I saw there was nothing on it.
“What the hell?” I asked.
“Your pen isn’t even working, and you didn’t notice,” Maria said.
With a sign, I closed my eyes as I drew in a deep breath.
“I wonder how much this has to do with that girl you left behind in Illinois.”
“I didn’t leave her behind. She lives there,” I said.
“And that trip was over a month ago. Yet here you are, not noticing your pens aren’t working and not listening to a thing I say.”
“In my defense, I never listen to what you say.”
I looked over at her and chuckled, but didn’t see any shred of amusement on her face.
“Maria, I’m not interested in talking about this.”
“I know that look in your eye,” she said.
“No you don’t.”