Lia knew that he couldn’t feel left out—her family was much too welcoming for that. She wondered if the entire scene was a little too cozy and domesticated for a man like Sam Brand. He had an in-built reserve that she had noticed at the wedding. He seemed quite happy to be an impartial, if pleasant, observer. He joked, participated in conversations, and was very at home with the men, but there was always an aloofness to him.
When dinner was finally served, everyone—barring Charlie, of course—had a nice alcoholic buzz going. Conversation around the table was loud and cheerful, and when her mother brought out a chocolate cheesecake for dessert, the atmosphere mellowed, everybody just content to be there and hang out.
“I have something to say,” Spencer suddenly proclaimed, his voice a little too loud and a little too nervous. Everybody immediately paid attention. Spencer wasn’t the type to willingly address a crowd. Not even family, so this was unusual to say the least. Daff had a perplexed frown on her face as she watched him get up and speak to the table. “This wasn’t planned, but it feels right because . . . because we’re all here.”
He turned to look down at Daff, whose eyes widened.
“Spencer, what are you doing?” she asked warily.
He grinned.
“Maybe, as gestures go, it’s not so grand . . . but you know me, darling, I’m not great at grand,” he said, and Daff gasped at his words. Her hands flew to her mouth when he dropped to one knee in front of her, and this time everybody else gasped. “Daffodil McGregor, I’ve been carrying this around with me for months. Everywhere I go, I’ve had it close to my heart. I couldn’t decide what type of gesture would most reflect my love for you, but then I realized that there just isn’t one big enough. You’re the beat of my heart and the sun in my sky. You’re my everything, and I love you.” His voice was starting to wobble, and his cheeks and ears were going pink, but he forged ahead, lifting a ring that Lia was too far away to see. “Would you do me the honor of being my wife?”
Daff just looked at him, eyes wide, face frozen, hands still covering her mouth. She didn’t seem to be breathing. She didn’t answer, and Spencer started to look nervous.
“Uh, Daff? Marry me? Will you?” She leaned forward to palm his face in her hands.
“You sound like Yoda,” she said with a little giggle before planting a huge kiss on his lips. “And yes, Spencer Carlisle, my big, wonderful man . . . marry you, I will.”
Everybody cheered and got up to engulf the couple in kisses and hugs. Lia’s eyes welled up; she felt overwhelming happiness for her oldest sister. They were a wonderful couple and belonged together . . . but . . . she also felt a stab of loneliness when she realized that this kind of relationship with someone was farther and farther out of reach for her.
She moved forward to kiss her sister and hug Spencer and then fawned over the beautiful rose-gold ring, with its pear-shaped peach sapphire. It was delicate and feminine and understated and simply perfect for Daff. The evening, which had been winding down, found new life, and talk turned to weddings and honeymoons. Lia kept smiling, kept enthusing, was happy to say yes to Daff’s request that she be her maid of honor. And all the while tried to keep the vicious talons of envy at bay. It was unbecoming and it was ugly.
Her face was starting to ache with the effort it took to keep smiling, and her head was starting to pound. She kept her gaze away from Brand’s, not sure she even wanted to lose herself in his arms tonight. All she wanted to do was curl up and cry and hate herself for being so petty and pathetic and stupid.
Sam didn’t know how none of Lia’s family could see how very much she was hurting. He knew how much she wanted what Daff and Daisy had. And he couldn’t understand how Lia, with her strawberry flowers, her gentle disposition, and her sweet, ladylike dresses, had not been snatched up by some grateful guy yet. Why was she having so much difficulty finding this Mr. Right of hers?
Sam knew the only reason she’d agreed to this thing with him was because she felt the right man was no longer on the horizon for her. She had compromised some unspoken rule of hers and had instead chosen to have some fun with someone she recognized was completely wrong for her. Sam knew he was being a selfish bastard in reaping the rewards of her broken dreams, but he was only human—and a weak one when it came to resisting her appeal. And he would continue to enjoy her until she either ended it or he left, whichever came first.