The Wingman (Alpha Men 1)

“Hello, Aunties.”

“Daisy, aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” Aunt Ivy, the oldest and scariest, asked, staring down her regal nose at both Daisy and Mason. How she managed to stare down at people when she was only four foot eleven in stature was a mystery.

“Mason Carlisle, these are my great-aunts. Ivy, Gert, Helen, and Mattie,” she introduced them from oldest to youngest, and Mason turned his charm on them.

“Ladies, I’m very happy to meet all of you.” His smile was polite with just a hint of roguishness, and the ladies all seemed to unbend a little.

“Nice to see Daisy bringing a gentleman friend to a family event,” Gert, the sweetest of the four, said in her tiny Minnie Mouse voice.

“We all thought she was one of those lesbians,” Mattie offered in her usual blunt way, and Daisy winced. Mason’s left hand crept beneath the table to squeeze her thigh reassuringly.

“I assure you, ma’am, that is very much not the case.” He sounded just the teeniest bit smug. Daisy slanted him a horrified look that he met with a wink.

“Well . . . good.” Mattie, for once, seemed at a loss for words and eyed Daisy speculatively from beneath her formidable gray eyebrows—those things hadn’t been waxed or shaped in ever and always reminded Daisy of hairy white caterpillars.

Daff slanted her a sideways glance before muttering, “Remind me to implement a similar plan for the next family event. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so effectively silenced before.”

Daisy took a sip of wine to hide her smile.

Mason was chatting with her father, and Daisy took the opportunity to have a look around the large family table. Everybody was present, the aunts, Daff, her parents, Lia, Clayton, and his parents and younger brother, Carson. One big, happy family, she thought caustically.

Clayton and Lia were sitting almost directly opposite her and were involved in a whispered, seemingly heated conversation. Daisy elbowed Daff, who grunted in pain and glared at her indignantly.

“What do you suppose is going on with those two?” Daisy asked, ignoring her sister’s annoyance. Daff glanced across the table discreetly.

“Don’t know, but they’ve seemed out of sorts all evening. Definitely something’s up. I was thinking of taking Lia aside later to ask her about it.”

“I’ve been thinking about what Mason said the other day,” Daisy confided, and Daff nodded.

“Me too. The guy’s an ass, but he made a good point. She hasn’t been herself lately.”

“He’s not an ass,” Daisy defended, and Daff’s eyes flashed with annoyance before sharpening as they took in Daisy’s flushed face.

“What have you done?” she asked on a loud whisper.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Daisy said, before attempting a subject change. “This soup is fantastic.”

“How would you know? You haven’t even tried it yet,” Daff rejoined, and Daisy glared at her.

“It looks fantastic.”

“Daisy, you have stubble burn all the way down your neck,” Daff whispered, shocked. “It’s unmistakable!” Daisy clapped a hand over her neck, knowing exactly which spot Daff was referring to because it had been tingling since her shower. “Daisy McGregor, what have you been getting up to with that man?”

“Stop it, you sound like Nana,” Daisy hissed, and Daff grimaced before glaring at her.

“Don’t deflect.”

“We’re not talking about me right now; we’re talking about—”

“What are you two talking about so seriously?” Their mother’s voice interrupted the whispered exchange, and they both sat up straight beneath everybody’s curious regard.

“Soup!”

“Burns!”

The words emerged simultaneously, and the sisters peered at each other wryly.

“Uh . . . soup burns,” Daff improvised quickly, and Daisy threw her a disgusted look.

“Specifically how hot soup can scald your soft palate and/or tongue if you’re not careful,” Daisy added with what she thought was admirable poise.

“Yep. So, soup burns.” Daff nodded. Daisy could hear Mason snorting softly beside her, and she kicked him softly. He gripped her knee, his fingers tightening in warning when she drew back her foot for another tap. His hand lingered, sliding farther up her thigh, creeping up under her skirt. Daisy gasped and clamped her knees together, effectively trapping his hands between her thighs. She could tell from the slight smirk on his nearly impassive face that he wasn’t exactly dismayed by the turn of events.

“What an odd thing to be discussing,” Aunt Gert squeaked, and the other aunts sent her frankly disbelieving stares, since nobody else had fallen for the blatant lie.

“Anyway, so who will be going horseback riding tomorrow morning?” Daisy asked with false cheer, deliberately changing the subject and trying not to think of Mason’s warm hand resting so docilely between her thighs. The horseback ride on the beach was one of the events Lia had arranged for some of her more adventurous guests.

“I intend to be too hungover to even contemplate getting up at such a disgustingly early hour,” Daff said. The ride was at dawn, and Daisy secretly agreed with her sister that it was much too early to be up.