Chapter 17
If anyone had ever told Presley Monroe that she would be riding through the streets of New York in a horse drawn carriage dressed like Audrey Hepburn and sitting next to Hobie Brent from high school wearing a top hat, she would have thought they were crazy. But they wouldn’t have been. It turned out that she was the crazy one. Crazy to have ever thought that carriage rides were cliché and touristy, and crazy to have ever dismissed Hobie as unattractive, unappealing or uninteresting.
He was none of these. He was the exact opposite.
Nestled next to each other on the bench seat of the carriage, though not too close as the rims of their hats kept bumping, she couldn’t stop laughing at his jokes or being taken in by his handsome, engaging smile. The smile that took over every part
