The Wingman (Alpha Men 1)

Okay, he had to admit, she was a bit of a train wreck. Still, it had to suck to hear that the only thing you had going for you was your brain.

“Look, obviously the MJ’s thing isn’t going to happen now,” she said matter-of-factly. “I think I’ll just head straight home. I’m tired anyway.” Mason felt a pang of regret at the wariness he now saw in her. Gone were the humor and sharp wit of before, and in their place was an obvious reluctance to lower her guard any more than it had already been lowered.

“How are you getting home?” he asked.

“Walking, it’s not that far.”

“It’s a mile out of town,” he protested. “I can take you.”

“Nah, it’s really not that far, and I could use the exercise, right?” she asked, sending him a crooked, self-effacing grin that just about did him in. How often did she demean herself just to prevent others from doing so?

“I’ll take you,” he maintained.

She sighed. “Look, Mr. Carlisle—”

“Mason,” he interrupted.

“Right. Just because I overheard your conversation with Spencer doesn’t mean you have to try and make up for it. You were being his bro, right? His wingman or whatever. He’s always been interested in Daff; I remember him sending her really bad poetry in high school.”

“You’re shitting me! He did?” Mason asked, momentarily distracted. He couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d told him Spencer had donned a tutu and danced ballet.

“I memorized one,” Daisy said, that wicked grin making a welcome reappearance. “Want to hear it?”

“Hell yeah!”

“Okay, hold on, let me think . . .” She held her thumbs up to her temples and swayed slightly before lifting her head and meeting his eyes. “Daffodil. Tell me you will . . . be mine. Your smile is like gold and like diamonds your eyes do shine. I’ll love you forever and forget you never.”

Mason paused a beat before doubling over and clutching his middle as he went off into gales of laughter.

“Oh Christ,” he groaned after a couple of minutes of gut-busting laughter. “After that you have to let me repay you with a ride home.”

Daisy stared up at the painfully handsome man standing in front of her and considered his offer. He really epitomized masculine perfection, all six foot one of him. He had a gorgeous, lean body, combined with ruthlessly short golden-brown hair that she knew was wavy and thick when it was longer. He had a perfect square-cut, cleft jaw, which was currently bristling with stubble; high cheekbones; chiseled, bow-shaped lips; and straight brown eyebrows set above those gorgeous forest-green eyes she had admired earlier. The only thing that spoiled all that visible perfection was the thin, vicious scar that slashed through his left eyebrow—stopping just shy of the outer corner of his eye—and the slightly crooked nose. All this male gorgeousness was incredibly distracting and muddled her thinking.

Daisy knew she really had to get away from him and away from this stupid pub. If it hadn’t been for Lia’s hen party, she would never have ventured into town tonight. She hated having to deal with people socially.

And sure enough she’d had her stupid feelings trampled as usual. After all these years, one would expect her to have a thicker skin, yet people still managed to upset her with their snide little comments. But Mason Carlisle had hurt her in a brand-new way tonight. He had crept beneath her usually stalwart defenses and made her believe he was genuinely enjoying her company and honestly wanted to spend more time with her.

God, she was such an idiot!

She should have known when he approached her tonight that it was too good to be true, should have known he was getting her out of the way so that his brother could flirt with Daff. It was the story of her life, after all—she was fodder for wingmen. But she had allowed herself a brief moment of fantasy. Mason Carlisle had never been nasty to her, hadn’t really paid her much attention at all, to be honest. They had been years apart in school and moved in completely different social circles.

Naturally all the girls—including her sisters—had had a crush on the Carlisle brothers in high school. Who wouldn’t? They were blessed with an overabundance of good looks, were star athletes, and had the appeal of being just a little too rough and wild for the good girls, which had made them irresistible. It still did. And just once, Daisy wanted to see what it felt like to be the center of a beautiful Carlisle’s attention.

And it had been . . . wonderful, until she’d discovered his true objective. High school all over again.

“Come on, Daisy,” he prompted again. “Let me drive you home.”

“Okay,” she said, reluctantly. He clearly felt bad. He had obviously never meant for her to find out about his deception. Maybe he would leave her alone when he got the guilt out of his system.