The Wingman (Alpha Men 1)

“Stop being a smart-ass, Mason. I’m serious.”

She thought he was kidding. She’d probably head for the hills if she knew that he was as serious as a heart attack right now. He forced a grin and shrugged.

“You’re getting a little too good at reading me.”

“You’re making it easy,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Chris chose that moment to return, holding two plates of the most beautiful-looking food Daisy had ever seen.

“I present to you, my version of twice-baked goat’s cheese soufflé with an accompaniment of arugula, fig, and roasted almond salad.” He placed the plates in front of Daisy and then Mason with a flourish.

“It looks amazing and smells even better,” Daisy enthused, her mouth already watering as she stared down at the perfectly baked soufflé, next to a beautiful, fresh-looking salad, on a plate garnished with artistically sprinkled tiny purple and yellow flowers.

“Bianca,” he called to the sweet-faced young woman hovering behind him, and she shuffled forward to place a couple of flutes of brightly colored drinks in front of them. “Mimosas with my compliments. Enjoy.”

“Thanks, Chris. Looks good,” Mason said, and Daisy sent him a disbelieving look. His returning gaze was perplexed, and Daisy sighed. Men were seriously clueless sometimes.

“It looks more than merely good, Chris,” she corrected, and Mason made a sound that was somewhere between exasperation and laughter.

“You already said that,” he pointed out.

“One can never receive too much flattery,” Chris said calmly. “But I’ll leave you to enjoy the fruits of my labor. Bon appétit.”

He left with a flourish—she guessed he was the type of guy who added flourish and flare to everything he did—taking Bianca along with him.

“You could have asked him to join us,” Daisy admonished, picking up her fork and sending another admiring glance down at her plate. It was almost criminal to eat something so beautiful.

“He wouldn’t have,” Mason said, having no qualms about completely destroying the work of art on his plate. He had two huge bites down before she even had time to gently prod her quivering soufflé with her fork. “Besides, it’s bad form to just insert yourself into someone’s date.”

“Mason.”

“Yeah, yeah, not a date,” he said from behind a mouthful of salad. “Got it. Point is, Chris doesn’t know it, so bad form.”

Daisy took a small amount of the soufflé onto her fork and sighed when the rich, tart flavor burst across her taste buds. She couldn’t quite contain the tiny moan of appreciation that slipped out. Her eyes slid shut to fully appreciate the taste.

Fuck me! I’m in such deep shit here. Mason paused, his fork hovering halfway between the plate and his mouth. Did she have to look like she was having an orgasm? It was just a soufflé, damn it! It tasted eggy and cheesy and shouldn’t make anybody look like they were coming. He could damn well give her a real reason to look like that.

He shifted in his seat in an attempt to alleviate his discomfort. He and Spencer really had to go cruising for babes soon. This was getting tiresome.

“So, a few logistical issues to work out,” she said prosaically after a few more moany, breathy bites. “I’m driving to the Wild Coast; everybody else is heading there a day earlier, but I’ll be finishing up some last-minute stuff at the practice. It will be the first time the locum goes to Inkululeko, and I want to go over a few of the more serious ongoing cases with him. I’m not sure when you want to leave—”

“With you.” No question about that. She was the only reason he was going in the first place, and he for damned sure didn’t want to spend any more time with those bitches her sisters called friends than was absolutely necessary. “We can take turns driving. And just to be clear, we’re taking the BMW.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary.”

“Yes, it is. I’m not going to be stuck in that little toy car of yours for nearly seven hours.” She seemed to think it over before shrugging and nodding. There was a lull in the conversation as she made love to a slice of fig, and he diverted his gaze and guzzled down his entire mimosa in a single gulp.

“Anyway, I think the hotel may be fully booked already, but I’m looking in to reserving a room for you at a nearby lodge.”

“We’ll share.” She looked scandalized by his words, and he pretty much felt the way she looked, not sure where the hell the suggestion had come from.

“We will not.”

“Are you sharing with one of your sisters? Or maybe one of those other bitches?”

“No.”

“Great. I’ll take the sofa.”

“Mason, absolutely not.”

“And just to be clear, I’ll be paying for my half of the room.”

“No, you don’t have to. I asked you to do this; I’ll pay. But for a separate room. In a different hotel.”