The Wingman (Alpha Men 1)

Her eyes finally opened, so huge they just about swallowed her face.

“Why did you do that?”

Hell if I know, Mason thought wryly, and he stepped even farther away from her, shoving his hands into his pockets, hoping to disguise his erection but succeeding only in making himself more uncomfortable when he brushed against his primed and oversensitive cock. He bit back a curse and wasn’t thinking clearly when he answered her question.

“Rehearsing.” He regretted the lie the moment he said it, even more so when he saw her instant emotional retreat.

“Right.” Her breathing was still unsteady, and the word sounded soft and shaky. He had hurt her.

Shit.

“Thanks for tonight. I enjoyed it.” She hesitated before adding, “I mean, it went well, didn’t it? Laid the foundation for the wedding and stuff.”

“Yeah.” And then, because he had to be honest and he couldn’t leave her thinking that the whole evening had just been about their stupid charade, he said, “I enjoyed it too.”

“Oh.”

“So,” he said, clearing his throat casually and trying to pretend his balls weren’t turning an icy shade of blue. “Wear that fetching pink waterproof ensemble you had on today. And the Wellingtons are a definite requirement. Bright and early. Seven.”

“Got it.”

“You’d better get inside before your dog strokes out.”

Finally tuning in to her surroundings once more, Daisy realized that poor Peaches’s bark had ascended to a pitch high enough to break glass. She grimaced and fumbled with the doorknob again.

“Okay. Good night.” She pulled the door open and retreated, shutting the door in his face just as he was saying his own good night.

Peaches went into raptures, and she absently stooped to pick up the wriggling, whimpering dog. Her face got laved, but she barely noticed as she peeked through the window and watched as Mason paused to flip up his hood before slowly ambling to his car.

She moaned and pressed her forehead against the windowpane after he drove off. She needed the shock of cold to snap her back to reality. She was going to have to be better at this. Kisses meant nothing to a sophisticated, experienced man . . . she had to develop a thicker skin and build up a tolerance to those inebriating caresses. She couldn’t fall apart every time he kissed her or touched her. Their charade would call for a lot of that kind of thing over the next few weeks, and Daisy was going to have to put on her big-girl panties and deal with it.

Peaches had settled down and now lay snuggled in Daisy’s arms; she breathed an occasional contented sigh, and Daisy kissed the dog’s fluffy head affectionately.

Her phone beeped, and she put Peaches down to get it from her bag. It was a text from Daff: Can we talk?

Daisy groaned as she thought about the way she had left things with her mother and sisters earlier. She really didn’t want to have this talk right now.

Tired. Tomorrow, okay?

She made her way to the bathroom to run a bath and was undressed, wearing nothing but a robe, by the time her sister responded again.

Okay. Sleep tight.

Yeah. You too. She added a smiley face to show that she wasn’t angry anymore and then set her phone aside and sank into her warm, fragrant bubble bath with a sigh.

She tried to clear her mind and not to think about Mason and how much she liked him. He was doing her a massive favor, and developing a crush on the guy would only succeed in making things awkward. She wasn’t a silly teenager; she could get over this.

Her phone rang at six twenty the following morning, and Daisy groaned while she fumbled for it. Peaches made a protesting sound and snuggled even closer.

“Yes?” she snapped when she managed to get the thing to her ear, but it continued to ring. Aggravated, she stabbed at the screen and repeated her terse greeting.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty.” She immediately recognized Mason’s sexy, raspy voice.

“Oh my God,” she mumbled. “What do you want? It’s the middle of the night.”

“It’s a gorgeous day, and you’re missing the best part of it.” Did he have to sound so relentlessly upbeat? And what was that sound? It was loud and persistent and . . .

“It’s pouring, Mason!” She held her phone away from her ear and angled it upward so that he could hear the thundering downpour. The move made no sense since he was probably well aware of the rain. She brought the phone back to her ear. “Can you hear that?”

“I can see it,” he said, amusement lacing his voice. “I’m looking out at it from my kitchen window.”

“If ever there was a day to take a rain check, this is it.” She sat up in bed, ignoring Peaches’s aggrieved whine, and pushed her tangled hair out of her eyes. It was still completely dark, and she had to lean over to click on the bedside lamp.