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There’s a saying about never scoring if you don’t take a shot.
Truer words have never been spoken.
I’m staring at my missed shot and some guy in a brown suit down on one knee in front of her.
I should have asked Abby if her stepsister was involved with anyone. I’ve been thinking about Carrie non-stop since I saw her the other night, weighing the pros and cons of pursuing the relative of one of my employees.
Hell, Abby is more than an employee. She’s practically my sister-in-law, so there’s a hell of a good chance that if I had gotten involved with Carrie that when it ended, I’d have a pissed off friend in Declan and an even angrier friend and employee in Abby.
“Telford’s at it again, I see.” Declan pats my shoulder as he appears next to where I’m standing.
I’ve been on the terrace of Howerton House since the ceremony ended twenty minutes ago. This wedding venue in New York City comes with all the bells and whistles to guarantee a memorable start to any happy ever after. The bonus is the stellar views of Manhattan.
After Declan and Abby exchanged vows, I needed to decompress. I did that by sipping on a glass of good scotch and listening to the sounds of the city.
It was all an effort to keep my gaze off Carrie Gilbert in that fucking green dress she’s wearing.
The shade is a touch darker than her eyes.
She’s a beauty in every possible way, and now, apparently, she’s about to be engaged to a guy named Telford.
“That’s Telford?” I jerk my hand, which is holding the glass in the air, toward where the proposal is taking place.
No one else at this wedding seems to notice the guy on his knee pledging his undying love to the most stunning woman on this terrace.
I have no idea how they all are keeping their eyes off of Carrie. Abby was a vision, but I can’t recall any details about her wedding gown. I do know that Carrie’s tits are what this man’s dreams are made of.
“Telford Harpin,” Declan fills in the blank for me.
“Her boyfriend?” I question, trying to keep an even tone to my voice.
Just as Declan glances at me and opens his mouth, Carrie shakes her head from side to side and laughs, sending Telford Harpin up to both feet. He scrubs a hand over his smooth jaw.
“She said no,” I whisper. “She turned him down.”
“Of course she did.” Declan laughs. “He’s in love with his boyfriend.”
I perk a brow. “So what the hell was he doing just now?”
“He’s been running proposal ideas by Carrie. He’s her best friend. Abby would argue she is, but I think Telford has the position on a lock.”
Relief floods me, although it does nothing to erase all the possible complications that could arise if I hook up with the beauty in the green dress.
“Her best friend,” I repeat with a chuckle.
Declan’s gaze volleys between Carrie and me. “You care about this. Why?”
“Who doesn’t get invested when a guy drops to a knee in front of a woman?” I play it off like it’s no big deal. “I expected her to say yes and for even more champagne to flow.”
“There will be more.” He pats my shoulder again as one of our mutual friends approaches us.
Holden Sheppard looks every inch the successful candy company magnate as he skims a hand over the sleeve of his dark gray suit jacket.
I’d call the outfit a win for the occasion, but goddammit, the two of us are dressed like fucking twins tonight, right down to the black shoes on our feet and our striped silk ties.
“Looking good, Rook.” Holden huffs out a laugh. “Next time, tell your stylist to check with me before you get dressed.”
“Kirby doesn’t have a phone,” I remind him. “She picked this suit out before she left this morning.”
