ROOK (Billionaire Buck Boys Book 6), page 4
“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.”
“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.”
I roll my eyes. “You made all that up just now, didn’t you?”
He smiles proudly. “On the spot.”
“Don’t quit your day job.” I shake my head. “No offense, Tel, but you’re not the best dating coach in the world.”
“Dating?” He laughs. “You think a guy like that is interested in dating? I know guys like that, Carrie, and they want one thing and one thing only.”
His gaze drops to the front of my dress. “For the record, I’m looking at what they want.”
I slap his shoulder. “Gross, Telford.”
He reaches for his still-full glass of champagne but stops before his fingers curl around it. “Do you think Cameron will marry me?”
The sudden shift from talking vaguely about my sex life to his direct question about his potential life partner sends my hand toward his glass. I take a big swallow of his champagne while he watches.
“You’re not making me feel great, Carrie.” There’s a noticeable tremor in his voice. “Don’t you think he loves me?”
I’ve known Cameron Gleason for as long as I’ve known Telford. Until two months ago, Cam worked in the perfume lab next to us. He snagged the lead position in the lipstick lab, so he works a hop, skip, and a jump from us down the corridor in a bigger, brighter lab.
He still wanders to our lab whenever he gets a chance to steal a kiss from Telford or reassure us that we’re doing a great job.
“Cam is wild about you.” I pat Telford’s hand. “I’m talking head over heels wild over you. He’s going to say yes, Tel.”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m not sure. I’m scared he’ll shut me down if I don’t propose the right way.”
“He won’t,” I reassure him. “I told you to speak from the heart.”
“I know you did,” he says, his exasperation evident in his tone and expression. “I don’t know how to do that, Carrie.”
“I couldn’t help but overhear.”
The sound of that deep voice sends my pulse racing at warp speed. I know who is standing behind me before I even glance over my shoulder.
If I weren’t sitting next to this table, my knees would be giving out.
Wait. Did Rook just say he overheard us?
Please don’t let it be the part where Telford was clumsily talking about sex.
Telford’s gaze drifts over my shoulder. “I’m Telford Harpin, and you are?”
Mortified, but I know that question wasn’t directed at me.
Rook’s hand appears next to me en route toward Tel. “Rook Thorsen. Close friend of the groom. Friend and boss of the bride.”
Tel’s eyes widen as he reaches for Rook’s hand. “You have big hands.”
Way to play it cool, Telford.
The men shake, and I keep my gaze pinned on my friend because I still don’t know what exactly Rook overhead.
Tel jumps in to ask for clarification. “What did you overhear?”
“Your struggle to find exactly the right words for a marriage proposal,” Rook says. “I think I can help.”
“You?” Telford does nothing to mask the surprise in his tone. “Wait a darn minute. I know you.”
Before I can wrap my head around that statement, Telford is on his feet, rounding me to get to where Rook is.
I follow his lead, but as soon as I’m standing upright, the three glasses of champagne I’ve had tonight hit me. I have to reach for the back of my chair to steady myself.
“Whoa.” Rook steps forward to wrap an arm around my waist to hold me up.
I’m suddenly hit with not only an uncontrollable urge to grab his shoulders but also with the scent of his cologne.
My cologne.
Technically, the cologne belongs to Matiz Cosmetics, but I developed it.
“It’s mine,” I whisper.
Rook’s eyes lock on mine. They’re a shade of blue that should be outlawed because they are that stunning. “All yours.”
“What’s hers?” Telford jerks a thumb in my direction.
I wait for Rook to answer, but his perfect, kissable lips don’t move, so I take on the task. “He’s wearing my cologne.”
Rook’s eyes widen, but still no words.
“Our cologne,” Telford corrects me as he leans closer to Rook to get a whiff of his neck. “I worked on it too.”
Barely. He was busy crafting a special limited edition scent for a holiday promotion at the time. It was meant to appeal to teenagers, but when it launched, women ate it up like candy.
To date, it’s still one of Matiz’s best-selling seasonal offerings.
The cologne Rook is wearing has made a bundle for the company, too.
“It’s my favorite,” Rook says in his toe-curling deep voice. “I use it daily.”
I smile. “Really?”
“Really,” he whispers.
“You’re Chesca Mills’ boyfriend, right?” Telford bursts the moment with that question. “I’ve seen you on her socials.”
Socials?
I shoot Telford a look because since when does he pay attention to social media, and why is he following Chesca?
All I get back in response is a shrug of his shoulders before his gaze is stuck on Rook’s face again.
“No,” Rook answers decisively. “I’m not her boyfriend.”
I take an audible breath because it feels like my heart is ricocheting inside my chest, bouncing around with glee.
“You’re not?” Telford asks, skepticism dripping from his tone. “I’ve seen you in dozens of pictures with her all over the world. I’m talking Paris, Rome, and Los Angeles. All of that was in the past six months.”
He’s right. I’ve seen all of those images in posts on Rook’s social media, too.
“You saw me in dozens of pictures with my daughter and her mother,” Rook clarifies. “We’re co-parents. That’s it.”
Suddenly realizing that I’m still wrapped in Rook’s arms, I feel lightheaded, and this time, it has nothing to do with the champagne. “I should sit back down.”
Rook agrees with a nod before sliding his hands down my arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps. He gently takes my hands in his to help lower me to my chair.
“You said you could help with a proposal.” Telford takes it upon himself to steal Rook’s attention from me again.
Rook looks at him. “Hit me with your best shot, and I’ll help you tweak it.”
Telford glances at me. “That’s more than some people have offered. Carrie critiques and then tells me to speak from the heart.”
Rook pats the left side of his chest with his hand. “That’s good advice, but I take it you want…”
“A winning proposal script,” Telford interrupts. “I want Cameron to remember it forever after he accepts.”
“Show me what you’ve got.” Rook tucks his hands in the front pockets of his pants.
My best friend wastes no time dropping to one knee right in front of the man of my wildest dreams.
CHAPTER NINE
Rook
“I know you love pizza, so let me be your slice for life.”
Jesus.
That. Is. Not. It.
“Cam hates pizza,” Carrie points out to her best friend after he dropped that line while staring into my eyes.
“He loves pizza,” Telford argues with her. “Whenever I order it…”
“He needs to take a work call,” she says before he can get another word out. “Think about it, Tel. Have you ever seen Cam take a bite of pizza?”
I swear to fuck, I’m witnessing Telford’s heart breaking right before my eyes.
Everyone needs a friend like Carrie to set them straight, but something tells me that right now, the guy on one knee in front of me needs a helping hand, so I offer mine.
He grabs hold of it and drags himself back to his feet.
“It was bad, wasn’t it?” he asks me. “Was it bad?”
“It wasn’t good,” I counter, because I’m a lawyer and I’m paid to spin the shittiest current situations into brighter futures. “At least you ran it by us before you tossed it at Cam.”
Telford presses a finger to the center of his eyeglasses to push them up his nose at the exact moment Carrie does the same to hers.
It’s fucking adorable.
“True.” Telford nods. “I’m never going to get this right.”
“You will.” Carrie is on her feet again, her hand landing on her friend’s. “Cam loves you, Tel. You need to tell him how much you love him. That’s the kind of proposal everyone dreams of.”
“I love you,” Telford states with no emotion. “That’s all I’ve got, Carrie. I can’t exactly propose with I love you. Will you marry me?”
It’s obvious this guy is torn up inside over this, so I do what any good man would do. I drop to one knee and give it my all.
I know I should be looking at Telford, but as the words spill out of me, I can’t take my eyes off Carrie. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. When you walk into a room, it’s brighter, lighter, and instantly filled with life. I don’t know how the hell we found each other in a city this big, but we did, so let’s run with it.”
Carrie’s mouth falls open just as I hear a high-pitched shriek behind me. “Oh my God! Are you proposing to my sister right now?”
This has been one hell of a night, and it’s not even nine p.m. yet.
“No, of course he wasn’t,” Carrie answers as I pop back up to my feet. “He was talking to Telford.”
“Telford?” Declan rounds us, so he’s facing me. “Bring me up to speed here, Rook.”
I huff out a laugh. “I’m helping Telford nail his proposal.”
“Oh.” Abby giggles as she moves to stand next to her husband. “From across the terrace, it looked like you were about to be my brother-in-law.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Abs.” Carrie’s laugh is stuttered and forced. “We barely know each other.”
That’s a fact that I intend to change starting tonight.
“We’re going to cut the cake.” Abby wraps her arm around Declan’s bicep. “Then, it’s first dance time. Carrie, you have to dance with Sean during the second dance because it’s tradition for the best man and the maid of honor.”
“Right,” Carrie answers with a brisk nod.
“After that, you’re free to dance with whoever you choose.” Abby’s gaze flicks over my face.
If that’s silent code for dance with my sister, I’ve already got that penciled in my to-do list for tonight.
“I’ll dance with her,” Telford offers in a monotone voice. “She’s not a half-bad dancer.”
Carrie swats his shoulder. “Thanks? That kind of sounded like an insult.”
“It was a compliment,” he tells her as he adjusts the collar of his shirt. “One dance, and then I need to get home. I have an epic proposal to plan.”
Everyone starts toward a circular table that is holding a wedding cake.
I hang back slightly, watching the way the skirt of Carrie’s dress sways as she walks.
“The third dance is mine,” I whisper to myself. “I can’t fucking wait.”
It was a hard pass on the third dance because there’s no goddamn way I’m acting like a chicken in public.
There are too many phones pointed at the dance floor right now as the all too familiar wedding favorite blasts out of a series of speakers set up on the terrace.
I thought Declan would spring for a band, but he told me his bride wanted a DJ to play all her favorites. If this instrumental ode to poultry made it on Abby’s all-time list of great tunes to dance to, she needs to expand her playlist.
Although, Kirby is a fan of the song, too, and I admit, I’ve danced to it a time or two with my daughter, but that was in my apartment, far from anyone else.
“You’re not dancing,” a faint voice says behind me.
My job is all about detail, so I already know who is talking to me. It’s the woman that I’ve had my eyes glued to since I kind of proposed to her.
“Neither are you.” I spin around to face Carrie.
She nudges her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I can’t flap my arms like a chicken’s wings in this dress.”
So let’s go somewhere where I can take the damn thing off of you.
I keep those words to myself because I have yet to get a signal from this gorgeous woman that she’s interested in the same things I am.
Kissing, fucking, repeating those two again and again until morning.
She glances past me as the song seamlessly leads into another with an even faster tempo. “Abby and Declan are really happy.”
“They are. Marriage agrees with both of them.”
Her chest heaves with a sigh. I have to put in some concerted effort to keep my gaze from dropping to the top of her tits. Carrie Gilbert is all lush curves and, from this vantage point, soft skin. What I wouldn’t give to get my hands on every inch of her.
“Have you ever been married?” I ask to keep the conversation from veering too quickly into what I want to do to her.
She laughs nervously. “Me? No, I haven’t even…”
Her hand darts to her mouth, hovering over her pink lips. “I mean, no.”
Curiosity lures me closer to her. “You haven’t even what?”
Her head shakes from side to side. “I can’t say.”
I try to fill in the open blank she left. “You haven’t met the right man yet?”
