The Wingman (Alpha Men 1)

Peaches was practically wriggling herself out of Daisy’s grip in her excitement, and Daisy put her down for fear of dropping the squirmy dog.

“I’ll grab a shower, and then we’ll go for a walk, okay?” The rain had let up for a bit, but judging by the gunmetal-gray clouds still brooding above the town, it was just a temporary reprieve. Luckily Peaches didn’t require much exercise, so a quick walk around the block would do the trick.

Daisy had a fast shower and changed into slouchy gray sweatpants, a pair of neon-pink Wellingtons, a fleecy hoody, and a raincoat to match the Wellies. She clipped on Peaches’s harness and leash, and they were good to go.

Sadly, Daisy’s idea of a quick walk around the block was immediately scuttled by Peaches, who stopped at every random bush, pillar, and post to have a sniff. It was an exercise in frustration, and her dog seemed completely oblivious to both the cold and the impending downpour.

“Come on, Peaches,” she implored for the umpteenth time when, approximately halfway around the block—about fifteen minutes from home—the first fat droplets of rain began to fall. Turning around would be pointless since it would take the same amount of time as just continuing on.

Peaches glanced up at Daisy before dawdling on, sniff-sniffing her way along at a snail’s pace. The rain was getting heavier and—horribly—some of the icy water had found its way down the top of one of her boots. The wind was starting to pick up too, and Peaches, finally realizing that she was wet, cold, and uncomfortable, stopped walking completely and trotted back to Daisy to be picked up.

Visibility was practically nonexistent as the rain began to sheet from the sky. Daisy remained on the grassy verge of the sidewalk, trying to stay well away from the street in case any cars came along. She wanted to avoid being splashed or run over. Both equally unpleasant prospects right now. But most people knew better than to be out in this weather, and only two cars had passed her since she had started on this rash endeavor.

She tucked the shivering Peaches closer to her chest and trudged on for another few minutes, when she heard the sound of an engine coming up behind her. The car didn’t slow down, and naturally there was a huge puddle right beside the road at the exact spot Daisy happened to be passing. The car was going at such a speed that it didn’t really matter how far away from the road she was, she was still completely soaked by the disgusting muddy water.

“Oh, come on!” she seethed and muttered a few choice words under her breath. She glared at the back of the car and frowned when the brake lights came on as it slowed down. When the reverse lights flashed on, she had a moment’s panic as she imagined a psychopath kidnapping her before the car got close enough for her to recognize it as Mason Carlisle’s Jeep.

The feeling of relief didn’t last long as she faced the reality of seeing him again. While looking like a drowned rat. Lovely.

The Jeep drew abreast of her. The passenger window lowered, and she stared into the adorable face of a yellow Labrador retriever mix. The lolling, grinning face distracted her for a brief moment before Mason’s voice drew her back to reality.

“Daisy?”

“Oh, Mason, hey.” She strove for casual, difficult when she knew she probably looked completely ridiculous.

“What the hell are you doing out here in this downpour?” He was incredulous.

“Just taking my dog for a walk. It wasn’t raining when we left.” She watched his eyes drop to her feet and then continue searching.

“What dog?”

“Uh . . . Peaches.” She drew her tiny dog out from beneath the protective cover of her coat, and the shivering animal immediately snarled at the bigger dog. The Lab’s reaction was comical; he yelped and dove to the floor in front of the seat and cowered beneath the dashboard.

“Jesus, Coop. Stop embarrassing me.” Mason sounded so completely disgruntled that Daisy couldn’t help grinning as she tucked Peaches back under her coat.

“Anyway . . . I’ll see you later,” she said with an insouciant little wave and started to wade off in the direction of her house.

“Daisy, get in the car,” Mason commanded.

“We’re nearly home.”

“Coop, in the back,” he ordered, and the Lab complied without hesitation. Daisy was impressed by the dog’s level of training.

“Daisy, get in the car,” he said again, in the exact same tone of voice that he had just used on his dog, and she immediately bristled.

“It’s not necessary.”

“Seriously? You’re going to be pointlessly stubborn? Why?”

Good question. Daisy heaved a sigh and acknowledged that she really had no reason not to get into the car other than her own pride and vanity, and Mason Carlisle cared about neither. He was just an acquaintance offering her a lift home, and she was turning this friendly, meaningless gesture into a thing.