The Wingman (Alpha Men 1)

“Yes,” Mason responded smoothly before Daisy could offer a reply. “Daisy McGregor and Mason Carlisle.” The woman’s glance slid over to Daisy, and her smile faltered very slightly. Daisy knew her hair had to be a total mess and her T-shirt was wrinkled after the long drive. As if sensing her discomfort, Mason’s hand slid beneath her hair to cup the nape of her neck. He squeezed slightly, his thumb and forefinger massaging her nape soothingly. The woman efficiently went about the check-in process, and despite Daisy’s muffled protest, Mason offered his own credit card for the security deposit. When she tried to offer hers to cover her own room, the woman smiled and said it wouldn’t be necessary. The desk manager lifted a couple of welcome bags from behind the desk and handed them one each. Mason grinned at the sight; he had never actually got around to helping them fill the bags.

“I finally get to see what’s in these,” he said, prodding Daisy with a conspiratorial elbow. His humor was infectious, and she returned his grin with one of her own.

“Please note that dinner will be served between seven and nine thirty tonight. Details for tomorrow’s itinerary will be found in your welcome bag.”

“Thank you,” Daisy said, reaching for the keycard the woman held out to her, while Mason took the one in her other hand.

“It’s on the second floor,” the manager supplied. “Most of our rooms are reserved for wedding guests this weekend.”

“Thanks,” Mason said, before hooking an arm around Daisy’s waist and leading her toward one of the elevators. The porter told them he would wait for the next one, and after the doors slid shut, closing them into the little glass-walled box, which probably had stunning ocean views during the day, Daisy looked down at her card.

“I’m in room twenty-three. You?” He didn’t bother looking down at his card, shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans instead.

“We’re in the same room, Daisy,” he informed her.

“What?” The word was practically screamed, and he grimaced. She shrugged out of his hold and turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. He looked down at her tightly folded arms, furious face, and tapping foot and seemed to be fighting back a grin.

“You look pissed off,” he noted—his voice and face a study in blandness—and she gasped.

“Of course I’m pissed off,” she gritted out through her teeth. “I told you we wouldn’t be sharing a room!”

“I figured it would be best if we did.”

“I can’t believe you did this. I can’t believe . . .” The elevator pinged and slid to a stop at the second floor, and Daisy’s mouth slammed shut as the doors opened to reveal Lia and Clayton on the other side.

“You made it,” Lia said with a relieved smile. Mason and Daisy stepped out, and Lia hugged them both effusively.

“Mason, I don’t think you’ve met my fiancé,” she said, turning to Clayton, who stepped forward with an oily smile that sent a shudder of distaste down Daisy’s spine. He held out a hand to Mason.

“Clayton Edmonton the Third,” he said jovially, and Daisy very determinedly kept herself from rolling her eyes at the characteristically arrogant introduction.

“Mason,” the big man at her side supplied succinctly, completely without artifice. He dwarfed Clayton, who was only about five eleven. Mason just looked so much more masculine next to Clayton’s urbane smoothness. Mason’s big body was honed by years of physical activity and combat, while Clayton had the polished look of a man who spent too much time perfecting his body in a gym and no time at all using that body for anything other than leisure activities.

“So you’re dating our Daisy, are you?” he said with a sickeningly paternal smirk. “I don’t recall her ever dating anyone before.”

He leaned down and planted a kiss on Daisy’s lips, and she pulled her head back, feeling violated by the overly familiar embrace. He’d never kissed her on the mouth before, and it completely repulsed her. She was suddenly grateful to have Mason by her side.

She glanced up at Mason and noted the frown on his face as he took in the way Clayton’s hand still lingered on her hip. He didn’t seem to like it and deliberately slid his arm back around her waist and tugged her out of Clayton’s hold until she was tucked securely against him.

“Join us for a pre-dinner drink?” Lia asked with a strained smile. Daisy looked at her a little closer. Her sister looked pale and exhausted, not exactly the picture of a beaming bride-to-be. Daisy tried to dismiss it as stress and nerves, but something in Lia’s eyes told her this was different.

The second elevator pinged, and the porter exited, dragging the luggage cart behind him.

“We’ve literally just arrived,” Mason said, indicating toward the porter. “We’re going to freshen up, rest a bit, and join you all for dinner.”