Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
I want that more than anything, but Carrie only promised me one more night. I’ll do everything possible to score another after that and another if she grants it to me.
“You like her,” he states. “You like her a lot.”
“A lot,” I reiterate with a nod of my head. “This coffee is shit, by the way.”
He nods before he pours the contents of the mug in his hand down the sink. “I can’t be good at everything.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Carrie
Telford stands in front of the mural in Abby and Declan’s guestroom. He hasn’t taken his eyes off it since he walked in here ten minutes ago to check on Posey’s progress.
She stomps a bare foot on the floor. “I need more than that, Telford. I want your honest opinion.”
Nodding his chin slowly, he turns to look right at her. “I’m speechless.”
She takes that as the compliment it is and bounces up and down. “Really?”
Telford is in no way, shape, or form an expert on murals, but anyone viewing this would be captivated by it. It’s whimsical and colorful, and a few quotes about babies are woven into the magical collection of painted images of nursery rhyme characters.
“When Cam and I have a baby, I’ll hire you to do something like this in our nursery.”
Shocked that he’s planning that far ahead, I tap his shoulder to drag his gaze to my face. “A baby?”
Smiling, he nods. “At least two, Carrie.”
I wrap an arm around his shoulders. “I like this confident version of you a lot.”
“Me too,” he says before he kisses my cheek. “I was thinking of taking the three of us out for lunch today.”
Posey rubs her hands on the front of her denim coveralls, leaving behind a faint pink paint line. “I’m a mess, but I’m in.”
“I’m a mess, too,” I chime in.
I didn’t sleep much after I got home from the hotel. I kept replaying my night with Rook over and over in my mind. Each moment of it was perfect, right down to how he kissed me goodbye on the sidewalk outside this building. He looked into my eyes, thanked me for the best night of his life, and then gave me a soft kiss on the mouth.
I was on cloud nine when I boarded the elevator, and by the time I got up here, I was giddy. As soon as I came through the door, Cindy was there to greet me. I wrapped her in my arms, sat on the couch, and closed my eyes as I recalled everything that had happened.
I lost my virginity to the most amazing man I’ve ever met.
Telford tugs on the sleeve of the green sweater I’m wearing. “You look great, Carrie.”
I can’t tell if he’s fishing for a compliment, so I offer one back in case he is, “I think you look great, too.”
His white-button down shirt and freshly pressed blue pants put my sweater and jeans to shame, but I’m used to looking underdressed next to him.
“Does Crispy Biscuit sound good?” he asks me before shifting his gaze to Posey.
She nods happily. “That diner has the best macaroni and cheese in the city.”
I can’t argue with that, so I don’t.
Telford has another opinion, though, that he can’t wait to share. “I make the best macaroni and cheese in this city. I use homemade noodles, creamy cheese sauce, and I add this bread and parmesan blend on top of it.”
“Yum.” Posey’s eyes widen.
“I’ll come over one night next week and whip up a tray of it for all of us,” he offers.
“I’m going to miss you two when this job ends.” She jerks a thumb in the direction of the mural.
“We’ll still hang out.” Telford smiles. “We share an appreciation for nursery art and cheesy macaroni.”
“Good.” Posey looks at her paint-covered palms. “I need to clean up. Once I do that, I’ll be set to go.”
She makes her way to the doorway before disappearing down the hallway.
“I like her,” Telford tells me, even though it’s blatantly obvious.
“Me too.” I nod.
“Pretty soon, your sister and Declan will be back, and you’ll be sent back to Brooklyn.”
I laugh. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. I miss my apartment.”
I do.
It’s a quaint two-bedroom I purchased a few years ago with the proceeds of a trust my dad had set up for me before his death. He always told me that when I grew up, I should invest in real estate, so I knew the best way to honor his memory was to buy a property that I thought he’d be proud of.
I’ve worked hard to make it my own, and since the neighborhood I live in has become one of the most popular in the borough, I’m confident that one day, within the next two years, I can sell the apartment and pocket a hefty profit.