“I knew that color would be amazing with your hair,” he says, and this time, I almost throw my neck out as it slings his way.
Carrick merely shrugs, taking in my obvious surprise over what was very clearly a compliment, and also an admitted fact he picked the dress out—not Zaid. “I have good fashion sense,” he says blandly, a way to explain the compliment.
“And it’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” I quip, giving him a mirthless smile. “Stop doing that. It’s freaking me out.”
His lips twitch, right at the corner, and he actually turns away from me to snag a glass of champagne, but I suspect it was so he didn’t laugh.
“The dress is yours to keep,” Carrick says offhandedly when he turns back to me.
Wow. I figured I’d be returning it to him. I stare down at it, thinking it’s probably the loveliest thing I’ve ever worn. Pleased, I brush my hands along the skirt. Almost shyly, and without looking at him, I say, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I glance up at Carrick to find his golden eyes on me. “I do love it. At least I’ll have something beautiful to wear to my birthday party.”
“You sound slightly put out,” he observes. I mean, the man is super sharp and can read the slightest emotion.
I shrug. “Fallon’s throwing a big soiree for our upcoming twenty-eighth birthday. Well, actually… her fiancé Blain is throwing her a party, but she wanted it to include me, so now I’m stuck attending another high-style function where I’ll be miserable.”
“But at least you’ll have a beautiful dress,” he points out.
I grin down at the shimmery skirt. “There is that.”
“Your sister invited me, but I have a conflict,” Carrick remarks, his gaze staying on the crowd.
That Fallon has him on the guest list doesn’t surprise me. He’s my business partner, but, moreover, Fallon and Blain like to develop friendships with the elite, and Carrick is at the top of that list. As much as I love my sister, she’s going to take advantage of my relationship with Carrick.
The fact he won’t be coming bothers me, and I wish it didn’t, solely for the fact he’s never done anything to show me kindness or extend true friendship. Everything he’s done has been a means to an end for himself.
Let it go, Finley. Let it go.
“So, is there someone in particular you’re hoping to meet here?” I ask before draining the last of my champagne. I eyeball one of the food-laden tables, particularly the huge platters, three tiers high of Dungeness crab, which is in season and fresh from the Puget Sound.
“Actually, yes,” he replies. But then, as if he knows I’m starving, he takes my elbow, steering me toward the food table. “Eat.”
I don’t fight the suggestion, grabbing a plate, and noting that Carrick does the same. He’s not human, but he eats food. I tuck that away in my mental list of facts I’m collecting about the man.
We move down the line. I load up on crab, shrimp, some veggies with dip, and a little mini quiche. “Are you going to tell me who we’re supposed to meet?”
“My brother,” Carrick replies as he leads us to a chairless high table where we deposit our plates. In a million years, as many questions as I have about Carrick and as much as I want to peel away all his secrets, I’ve never once considered what his family was like.
“You have a brother?” I ask, picking up a shrimp by the tail and dipping it in cocktail sauce.
“More than one,” he replies dryly, scanning the room. “He just walked in a few moments ago.”
I turn around, going to my tiptoes. “Where?”
“Coming straight at us,” he mutters.
CHAPTER 17
Finley
My gaze lands on a tall, powerfully built man, but past that, he looks nothing like Carrick. The only reason I know it’s his brother is that he’s heading straight toward us, and his eyes are locked onto Carrick’s.
His brother is taller than Carrick by a few inches, and he’s also wider. His heavy, muscular body is apparent by the fit of his clothing, which is not the required evening dress for this gala. He’s wearing black fatigues, combat boots, and a tight, long-sleeved gray Henley that showcases beefy muscles. I’m dying to know how he even got in the door wearing that because evening dress was required.
His hair is blond, about shoulder length, and the top part is pulled back into a ponytail at the back of his head. His face is covered in a darker blond beard that’s fairly trim except at the chin where it’s a bit longer and comes to a point. I can see tattoos creeping out of the Henley and partway up his neck, as well as at his wrists and even his fingers. I get the impression his entire body is covered, but couldn’t be sure unless I saw him naked.