The Wingman (Alpha Men 1)

Chastened, Mason shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Good night, Mason.” It sounded like good-bye, and he hated that.

“I’ll see you soon.” And that was a goddamned promise.

The week flew by. Work kept Daisy busy, and, in an effort to avoid Mason, she volunteered to help with some of the last-minute wedding stuff. He called every day. He had her mobile number but rarely contacted her on it, leaving messages with the receptionist at the practice. She knew he was doing it to keep up the pretense and was grateful for that. He even sent flowers the day after their dinner. The bouquet arrived in the middle of the day, when the surgery was teeming with people, and everybody heard the deliveryman ask for Daisy. It was both embarrassing and flattering.

Now, late Friday evening, she was seeing off her last patient—an impeccably groomed Pekingese with an eye infection—when Mason strode into the reception area. Both Lucinda—their receptionist—and the Peke’s owner, one of her mother’s country club cronies, gaped at him.

He smiled when he saw Daisy. A beautiful smile that told her—and everybody else in the room—that he was happy to see her, that he had missed her, that he was focused on her alone and had eyes for no one else. And it nearly had her completely fooled.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate but loud enough for Lucinda and Mrs. Cage to hear. “I missed you.” He lifted his hand to the nape of her neck and tugged her toward him for a kiss. A very thorough kiss.

Daisy felt a little out of sorts afterward; she was barely able to string together a coherent thought and wholly incapable of actually formulating words. He had his forehead pressed to hers, his hand still at her nape, and when he spoke she barely registered his words.

“Daisy?” There was infinite patience in his voice, and irrepressible amusement in his eyes.

“What?”

“I asked what you’re doing tonight.”

“I have plans.”

“Can I join you?”

“You wouldn’t like it.”

“I don’t care. I want to spend some time with you.” Her lips twitched; he was laying it on much too thick.

“Well, then, since you put it that way, I suppose it would be okay if you joined us.”

“Us?” He looked surprised, and she grinned. Of course he thought she’d just been making these plans up in an effort to avoid him.

“Mom, Lia, Daff, and I. Dad is taking a rare evening off and heading to Ralphie’s with some of his golfing buddies, but a man’s opinion is always welcome. So everybody will be thrilled to know you’re joining us.” She relished the flare of panic she saw in his eyes and kept her smile sweet and beatific.

“What exactly will you be doing?”

“We’re still having problems with the seating arrangements, if you can believe that? Just a week left, and it’s a shambles. I swear it’s worse than a logic puzzle.”

“I’m great at puzzles; I’ll get it done,” he said confidently, and Daisy tried not to roll her eyes.

“And we’re assembling the last of the welcome bags.”

“What are those?”

“Little gift bags for all the guests.”

“We’re getting gifts?” He sounded boyishly excited by the idea, and she laughed.

“Yep.”

“So does this evening of hard labor include dinner?”

“It does.”

“Great. Pick you up or meet you there?” He was being optimistic in even asking, and she laughed.

“Meet you there. Six thirty on the dot. Lia gets hysterical if anybody’s late. She’s gone full bridezilla over the last few days . . .” She paused before adding, “Do not tell her I said that.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” he promised, holding a dramatic hand to his heart, and another laugh bubbled up in Daisy’s throat. He was just so charming, and she had missed him. Which was odd, considering she barely knew him and hadn’t spent more than a few short hours in his company.

“I’ll see you then.” He dropped another kiss on her lips and then glanced around and did a little double take as if he were noticing the other two women for the first time. He grinned at Lucinda. “Hey, you must be Lucy. Sorry for hassling you so much this week. But my little Dr. Daisy has been almost impossible to pin down.” He sent her such a smoldering look that all three women gasped at its potency.

“It’s nothing,” Lucinda—Lucy?—dismissed, going beet red when he smiled at her again.

“Sorry for the delay, ma’am.” He smiled charmingly at Mrs. Cage, and the woman pursed her lips.

“Just be more mindful of your sweetheart’s working hours next time, young man,” she admonished with very little heat in her voice. Wow, he was good. Mrs. Cage could be impossibly crotchety at times.

He gave them all a cocky grin before exiting the building. The room instantly felt bigger and emptier without him in it, and Lucinda sighed into the silence.