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“Our girl has great taste,” Holden says before turning his attention to Declan. “Congrats again, Wells. Unlike me, you made the right decision getting married.”
Holden’s divorce hasn’t left him bitter, but it was painful for him. The three of us bonded more because of it.
“I did make the right decision,” Declan agrees. “Abigail is it for me.”
I can’t argue with him, so I nod. “You’re a good pair.”
“Soon to be a trio,” he drops that out of nowhere.
Holden’s head snaps in his direction. ”What?”
Declan drops his voice to a lower tone. “We’re announcing it later tonight, but I wanted you two to know first. Abby is pregnant. I’m going to be a dad in six months.”
Joy is a feeling I’ve only experienced a handful of times in my life, but it’s there now, causing a rush of emotions inside of me.
“Welcome me to the dad club, Rook.” He turns to me. “You’ll show me how it’s done, right?”
Declan’s brother and best man today, Sean, is already a dad, so he can lead him down that path, but I’m honored that he’s looking to me for advice.
“Absolutely,” I answer without hesitation. “I’m there for whatever you need.”
“Me too.” Holden pats Declan’s chest. “I may not be a dad, but I’m a damn good uncle.”
We go in for a quick embrace, each wrapping their arms around the shoulders of the guy next to him until we form a circle.
“Who knew we’d end up like this?” Declan laughs. “Back in our Buchanan School days, I thought we’d all be in prison by now.”
Holden and I laugh.
“We’re Buck Boys,” Holden reminds us of the term that we all hated when we attended the boarding school during our teens. “We had no real choice but to succeed, given the fortune our parents spent to send us to that school.”
“If it’s a boy, is he destined to attend Buchanan?” I ask Declan.
“Hell, yes.” He smiles. “I had some of the best times of my life there with you two assholes. Hopefully, if I have a son, he’ll wreak havoc there with a couple of jerks just like you that he can call friends for life.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Carrie
“Staring is rude, Carrie.” Telford sighs. “Stop it.”
I turn to look right at him. “You think I’m staring? At what?”
“More like who.” He tilts his chin up. “Before you lie and say you weren’t, I get it. He’s handsome.”
That’s a super tame way of describing Rook Thorsen, but I can’t argue with Telford, so I don’t.
I reach for the glass of champagne sitting on the table in front of me. “He’s also in a relationship.”
“It’s all for the best,” he quips.
“It’s all for the best?” I repeat with confusion etched in my tone before I empty the contents of my glass in one gulp. “Explain.”
“Guys like that are hit and miss.”
“Hit and miss?” I continue with my questioning since Tel isn’t providing direct answers to my indirect questions.
“They hit you up for you know what, then misplace your number.”
