The Best Man (Alpha Men 2)

She scrubbed her hands over her face and winced when she felt damp bits of toilet paper rolling beneath her palms. She wiped her cheeks on her shoulders, hoping she got most of the paper off, and gestured for Lia to follow her.

When they rejoined the table, everything seemed normal. Spencer and Mason both got to their feet and held out Lia’s and Daff’s chairs. It was something she had found corny about them in high school. They had always done cringey stuff like that. Held doors, helped girls into their coats . . . smarmy, nerdy stuff that seemed to come straight out of old movies. Like they had learned their manners and mannerisms from old-school, long-dead actors in musicals. Recently, watching Mason’s interactions with Daisy, Daff had started to find it charming and sweet. And with the insight that she had lacked as a teenager, she wondered if indeed the brothers hadn’t learned their old-world chivalry from movies. They’d certainly had no other role models around to teach them.

Once they were all seated again, she lifted her eyes to Spencer’s face, but his expression was carefully neutral and he kept his eyes averted. He didn’t seem particularly disturbed by anything she had said earlier, and she wondered if maybe she had imagined the hurt she’d seen in his eyes.

Lia was completely unsettled and upset and kept trying to do things for Spencer. When he reached for a napkin, she grabbed it before he could and handed it to him; if he wanted salt, she passed it to him before he could fully formulate the question. She still looked on the verge of tears, and when she took the saltshaker from him before he could place it on the table, he smiled and took her shaking hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss.

He leaned over and whispered something into her ear, and whatever he said seemed to release Lia’s tension. She practically melted and favored him with a lovely smile, which he returned warmly.

He released her hand before glancing around the table and then levering his bulk out of the chair with more grace than such a big man should ever possess.

“I’m off. Got plans.” Concise. The man didn’t believe in wasting words.

“Yeah? Do I know her?” Mason grinned and Spencer slanted him an unfathomable look.

“I’ll talk with you tomorrow. This should cover my bill,” he said without inflection, dropping some money on the table before nodding at the rest of the group in general. He left without any further comment.

“Okay, what’s up with him?” Daisy asked Mason as soon as Spencer was out of earshot. Mason was staring at his brother’s retreating back with a slight frown on his face.

“Not sure. He’s been a bit distant recently.”

“How do you think he took the news about us moving?” Daisy asked, and Mason shook his head.

“Not good.”

“How can you tell? The man’s expression barely changed,” Daff said, and Mason looked at her with speculatively raised brows.

“Watching closely, were you?”

“I’m just observant,” Daff muttered defensively, and Mason snorted.

“Not observant enough. His body language immediately changed. He shut himself in. He does that when he’s trying to shield his emotions—he battens down the hatches, so to speak. I think he feels . . . left out. Lonely, maybe.”

He looked disturbed by the notion, and Daisy leaned in to him and lifted a hand to his cheek.

“We’ll talk to him. Make sure he knows he’s important and welcome and included.” Mason lifted his hand to cover hers and turned his head to plant a kiss in her palm. Daff peered over at Lia and found her sister staring at Daisy and Mason with a kind of wistful envy on her face. Daff sighed; Lia really needed to get over this whole marriage and happily ever after thing. It helped to lower one’s expectations. Daisy was lucky and the exception. That kind of lightning-bolt, romantic shit didn’t happen every day.

“Lia, you ready to go?” Her question startled Lia out of her dreamy funk, and she stared at Daff blankly.

“What?”

“I need to get home,” Daff said. “Got some housecleaning to do.”

“Ah, your semiannual cleaning spree?” Daisy teased her. Daff was the slob of the three sisters and the victim of many hours of ribbing because of it.

“You’re going to need a shovel and a wheelbarrow,” Lia said. “Should I ask Daddy to drop them off for you?”

Mason was laughing his ass off by now, and Daff glared at the three of them.

“Why don’t you just hire someone to do your cleaning?” Mason asked between chuckles.

“I can do my own cleaning,” Daff grated, a little fed up with this by now.

“No, you can’t,” Daisy said, shaking her head. “Mason is right; you should get some help. It’s really nice to see the floor and be able to find your shoes—”