The Wingman (Alpha Men 1)

“It was a stupid idea.”

“Maybe. But I’m still happy to do it and make it convincing. If nothing else, we’ll have a nice evening out and that’ll be the end of it.”

“Okay.” It was far from “okay,” but she’d set this whole stupid thing in motion, and now it felt like a runaway train that was building momentum as it headed toward a brick wall.

“Great.” He watched while she climbed out of his stupidly high car. “See you later.”

He continued to observe as she walked up the path and unlocked the door, and when she turned to wave at him, he drove off with a cheerful honk of the horn. It was only when she was inside that she realized that she should probably have insisted on driving herself tonight. That way she would be in control of what time she left.

Just another stupid mistake to add to the long list of colossal mistakes that she had made over the last twenty-four hours.

After blow-drying Peaches and taking another shower to warm herself up, Daisy finally succumbed to the inevitable and called Daff back. Her sister’s messages hadn’t let up at all, and having her phone buzz every five minutes was aggravating.

“Daisy?” Daff sounded out of breath when she answered her phone, and Daisy frowned.

“Are you jogging?” What was it with people running or walking in this weather today?

“What? In this, are you crazy?” Her sister was still puffing slightly.

“So why are you out of breath?”

“I was doing Pilates. Stop trying to distract me and tell me what happened between you and Mason Carlisle last night.”

“Nothing. We talked and he gave me a ride home. He’s a nice man. Very gentlemanly.”

“And that’s all?”

“What did you expect me to say? He brought me home and we . . . we did it like monkeys all night long?” Daisy blushed when, after pausing for a beat, her sister roared with laughter.

“Did you really just say ‘did it like monkeys’?” Daisy’s jaw lifted defensively. Daff could be so obnoxious sometimes.

“I said what I said,” she muttered, her voice brittle, and Daff, sensing her embarrassment, tried to tone down her amusement.

“You need to lighten up, Daisy Doodle,” she teased, using the family’s embarrassing nickname for Daisy.

“I would if I wasn’t the constant butt of your jokes.” Okay, Daisy knew she was being a bit unfair; Daff didn’t usually make fun of her. At least not maliciously. It was always just good-natured sibling ribbing.

“I was just teasing you,” Daff said, wounded.

“I know.” Daisy sighed. “I’m sorry, Daff. I’ve been a little oversensitive lately. PMS probably.”

“So what was all that with you and Mason Carlisle last night?”

“We chatted for a bit, I said I was going home, and he offered me a lift. That’s the extent of it . . .” She paused again, thinking she should embellish on that, especially since she was about to be seen in public with the man again in just a few hours’ time.

“Oh.” Daff—bless her heart—sounded disappointed. “He seemed really into you.”

“We are going out to dinner later,” she informed reluctantly and winced when Daff squealed.

“Oh my God! Seriously?”

Daisy shifted uncomfortably before reiterating, “It’s just dinner.”

“Dinner with Mason Carlisle! Shar is going to absolutely shit herself with envy.”

“I don’t care what Shar thinks.”

“What are you going to wear?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, but it does! Lia and I will be over in half an hour to help you get ready.”

“No!” Daisy snapped. “It’s not like that. It’s nothing romantic. It’s just dinner. Between friends. I don’t want you and Lia blowing this out of proportion. I’m wearing jeans, and that’s that.”

“Half an hour, Deedee.” Yet another nickname—an abbreviated, equally horrific version of “Daisy Doodle.”

“Daff, no!” She should have known her sister would make a big deal out of this. “I don’t need your help.”

“See you later,” Daff said cheerily and hung up before Daisy could protest any further.

“God.” Daisy squeezed her eyes shut and resisted the urge to throw her phone across the room. She settled on shaking it instead and screaming in frustration, surprising Peaches out of a snooze. Maybe if she changed out of her comfy sweats and into something dressier before her sisters got here it would dissuade them from once again trying to “pretty her up.”

The thought spurred her into action, and she leapt up from the sofa to dash into her bedroom and frantically throw something on.

When Daff, Lia, and their mother showed up exactly half an hour later, Daisy was hot and flushed but dressed and ready for her dinner.

“You all wasted your time,” she said by way of greeting. “I don’t need your help. I’m dressed already, see?”

“Darling, if there’s one thing I have told you time and time again, just because a woman is dressed does not mean that she is ready,” her mother admonished, leaving a trail of Joy in her wake as she swept past Daisy.