The Best Man (Alpha Men 2)

“I’d like that,” he said quietly.

Her eyes went suspiciously bright before she blinked a few times and cleared her throat.

“So guess what?”

“What?”

“I handed in my notice today.”

“That’s bloody fantastic. I’m happy for you, Daff.”

“Everybody’s been congratulating me on being unemployed.” She chuckled. “It’s bizarre.”

“It’s a fresh start,” he corrected. “So what’s next?”

“No clue. I have to figure out what I enjoy doing.”

“There must have been aspects of working at the boutique that you liked and maybe could focus on.”

“I’ll think about it. Right now I’m just enjoying the feeling of having a whole world of possibility open to me. I feel optimistic and excited and ready to take on anything.” No wonder she looked so damned radiant.

“I’ll miss having you just down the road.” He tried not to wince as he wondered if that was an entirely friendly thing to say. He was going to be second-guessing his every word from here on out.

“I’ll still be here for another two months, so you’ll have plenty of time to share lunch with me.”

“And you wouldn’t mind that?” he asked uncertainly, and she shook her head.

“No, but I think we should take turns bringing lunch. My turn next week.”

“Like proper food? No salads. As a side it’s fine, but don’t give it to me as a meal.”

“I know. Don’t worry, I won’t starve you.”

“You’re sure about this?” Somehow he had never pegged her as someone who enjoyed cooking, but maybe he was mistaken.

“Yep. Absolutely.”

“You done for the day?”

“Uh-huh, just thought I’d pop in on my way home.” She got up and smiled at him. “Thanks for listening, Spencer. I really want this to be a clean slate for us.”

“It will be,” he assured, getting up as well. He debated whether he should hug her or not but decided against it. It was too soon to touch her after everything that had happened between them. First he needed to retrain his body not to react whenever he touched her. Until he had his responses under control, they should probably stick to formal handshakes.

“Great.” She hovered awkwardly for a moment, obviously debating whether to hug him as well before seeming to come to the same conclusion. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Tomorrow night, if I’m not mistaken,” he reminded her.

“Oh yeah, the dinner. With everything that’s happened, I’d almost forgotten. Anyway, see you then.”

“Hmm.” She grinned at the noncommittal sound—reading God knew what into it this time—and turned away. He tried his damnedest not to let his eyes drop—they were friends now, after all—but for fuck’s sake, he was a red-blooded man and her ass looked spectacular in those damned jeans. He waited until she disappeared down the winding staircase before groaning and adjusting himself. This was not going to be easy.

We’re having a girls’ night! You’ve GOT to come over!!!

Daisy’s text a couple of hours later was almost instantly followed by another, this one filled with crazy emojis—dancing chick, fireworks, beers, martini glasses, champagne bottle, more beers, wineglasses. Okay, Daisy seemed to be implying that there would be drinking involved. Daff rolled her eyes.

Maybe I’ve got plans, she replied. She didn’t, of course. Her evenings had once again opened right up since she’d ended her no-sex sex thing with Spencer.

Ooh, with the Dick? Well, at least Lia hadn’t blabbed. Daff hadn’t been certain, since Lia really was an appalling liar. Luckily her fear of Daisy’s reaction had been a great motivator to keep quiet.

I’ll see you later, Daff responded, not bothering to reply to Daisy’s question.

Crying face emoji.

You never tell me anything.

Nothing to tell. It’s over.

Another sad, sad little face.

Fine! Bring tequila. Daff snorted in amusement—look at baby sister trying to be a badass. One shot of tequila and they’d probably have to scrape her off the floor.

I’ll be there in an hour, she promised.

Daff let herself into Daisy and Mason’s cabin and was greeted by a cacophony of female laughter and Peaches’s high-pitched yapping. She made her way into the living room, where her sisters and a few friends—Tilda Stanford, Nina Clark, and Billie Greenspan—were all sprawled on the shaggy throw rug in front of the fire and guzzling down red wine like it was water. Tilda, Nina, and Billie were a few of the high school friends the McGregor sisters had won in the custody battle after their acrimonious split from Sharlotte Bridges and Zinzi Khulani. It hadn’t been worth staying in contact with the rest. They were always on about materialistic crap. Daff had once bought into that nonsense, as had Lia, to a certain extent, all to fit in with a shallow group of women. Thankfully they were past that now.

“Ladies, I come bearing tequila and sours!” Daff announced as she entered the room, and the women all squealed.

Daff went to the kitchen, already familiar with the layout of the cabin, and grabbed the shot glasses, lemon, and salt before rejoining the rest and sinking to the floor with them. Peaches and Cooper immediately came over to give her a few slobbery welcome kisses before Cooper retreated back to his bed and Peaches crawled into Lia’s lap.