The Wingman (Alpha Men 1)

“Yes, and she turned the tables rather nicely, don’t you think? Don’t underestimate your sister, Daff. She seems well able to take care of herself. She certainly has my brother wrapped around her little finger. In fact, I think he’s the real victim here. She blackmailed him into going to the wedding with her, and she’s performed some kind of freaky voodoo on him because he’s completely irrational when it comes to anything Daisy related. I don’t know what the fuck she’s done to him, but I don’t like it!”

“He’s going to hurt her even more than he already has, and it’s your fault.”

“Well, I think she’s going to wind up hurting him . . . and yeah”—he sighed deeply—“it’s my fault.”

“As long as you recognize that.”

“It’s your fault too, you know,” he murmured, and her brow furrowed into a scowl.

“How? How can this possibly be my fault?”

“If you’d even once given me the time of day, maybe I wouldn’t have had to rope Mason in to play wingman.”

“So I’m just supposed to pay attention to every guy who tries to chat me up? How typical of a man to think that.”

“Maybe if you weren’t constantly sending me mixed signals I’d be a little clearer about where I stand with you!”

“Oh, please, you’re seeing things that aren’t there.”

“Yeah? Why did you drunk dial me of all people, Daff?”

She paused to think about that for a moment.

“Because I’m a little too wasted to text you,” she finally decided.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Why me at all? And how do you even have my number, come to think of it? I don’t have yours.”

“You want to know where you stand with me, Spencer? Nowhere. There has never been, nor will there ever be, anything between us. Stay away from me in future and don’t fuck with my family again!”

“Gladly,” he seethed. “I’ve had more than enough of having to deal with manipulative, psychotic, raging bitches. Tanya was bad enough, and I’m definitely questioning what I ever saw in you.”

Stung, she allowed him the last word and hung up before she said something she’d regret even more. She wasn’t nearly drunk enough to be immune to that scorching indictment of her character. Especially not from him. Spencer Carlisle was a dumb oaf, but he’d always been a sweet dumb oaf. That’s probably why this entire situation bothered her so much. He had disappointed her. She pushed herself away from the wall, and after fleetingly considering her original course of action to find the bar and drink herself into a stupor, she decided that she’d rather fall into bed and forget this entire day ever happened.

It was colder than they expected, but the air was calm, the sky was clear, and a huge, creamy full moon was just rising over the ocean. It was a beautiful evening, and it seemed a waste to let the cold chase them back inside. Mason bundled Daisy into his suit jacket, and it dwarfed her, falling to just a few inches above her knees, while the sleeves ended well past her fingertips. She looked like a little girl playing dress-up in her dad’s jacket, and Mason, as usual, thought she was absolutely adorable.

They were barefoot on the beach; Mason had his socks off and his trouser legs rolled up, and Daisy had forced him to turn around while she tugged off her pantyhose and shoved them into her bag. He had taken laughing peeks, telling her she was being ridiculous because he already knew what she looked like naked.

Now they were walking hand in hand, shoes dangling from their fingertips. The sand was freezing cold beneath their bare feet, but neither minded much. They were content to listen to sounds of the whispering waves, the high-pitched calls of the night birds, the distant echoing cries of the southern right whales that migrated here to calve in winter. With Daisy’s hand tucked into his, it felt like the most perfect moment of Mason’s entire life.

“So why don’t you dance?” she asked, breaking the peaceful silence. But Mason didn’t mind, because if there were anything more beautiful than the silence, it was the sound of her husky voice.

“Because I don’t want to embarrass everybody else on the dance floor with my awesome moves,” he said complacently and was gratified when she laughed in response.

“Seriously?”

“Yep. That’s it. The whole story, true as God.”

“And this is what you would have told me on our second date, if we were, in fact, dating?”

“It’s supposed to impress you.”

“I am impressed,” she said, and he could hear the laughter bubbling away beneath her words. “I’m impressed by the size of your ego.”

“You’re obsessed with size, aren’t you? I told you not to worry; everything’s well in order,” he boasted, and Daisy laughed outright at that. He let go of her hand, and she felt the loss keenly until he draped his arm over her shoulders and tugged her closer so that she was tucked beneath his armpit and sharing his body heat. She put her own arm around his trim waist for better balance.