The Best Man (Alpha Men 2)
Fuck.
“We’d like to thank you all for joining us at our very first dinner party as an engaged couple,” Mason said, his words sounding rehearsed. He tugged at the collar of his shirt and cleared his throat. “I’m no fucking—sorry—no good at this kind of stuff. But Daisy says we should let you all know how much you mean to us. But I think you all know, right? Else we wouldn’t fucking—fuck, sorry—uh, we wouldn’t have you in our wedding party, right? Anyway, just. Thanks.” He looked pained and glanced at Daisy, seeking her approval, and she grinned, throwing him a cheeky thumbs-up and a wink. Relieved that the touching speech had been short-lived, Spencer reached for the salad again. But, of course, Daisy started speaking and he sat back again, feeling like an idiot. He felt a kick against his shin and glowered at Daff, who sneaked a quick eye roll his way. He fought back a laugh.
“I’d also like to thank you all. I want this to be fun for everyone, and I hope that you all know that even if—when—I go a little crazy over the next few months, I absolutely adore each and every one of you. Just knowing you’ll all be a part of our big day means so much to both of us. We love you guys.”
Well, that was . . . kind of sweet, actually, and Spencer felt a swell of affection for the lovely woman who had stolen his brother’s heart. Chris lifted his glass.
“To Daisy and Mason. Your love for each other is truly wonderful to witness, and I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say that we wish you the happiest of marriages.”
Of course, perfect Chris would say the perfect thing. Spencer tried not to be exasperated by that. Nobody expected Spencer to make a spur-of-the-moment toast—it would be an abject failure. He already broke into cold sweats when he thought about the best man speech he’d have to make. So he lifted his glass and added his “hear, hear” to the chorus and touched glasses with everybody at the table.
Finally, they were able to eat.
“Don’t know about you, but I was genuinely worried that that would go on for hours,” Daff muttered into his ear after they’d both piled their plates, and Spencer chuckled.
The sound seemed to draw stares from around the table, and Spencer scowled back at them all uncomfortably.
What the fuck?
Gradually everybody went back to their chatter and he turned to Daff questioningly.
“They’re not used to hearing you laugh so freely, that’s all,” she informed him, and he felt his brow lower even farther.
“Does everybody think I’m some kind of monster?” he asked under his breath. She shook her head.
“Of course not, don’t be ridiculous. They just think you’re serious, that’s all.”
“That’s not good. Serious people are assholes.”
“Not true. They’re just . . . serious.”
“You thought I was an asshole,” he reminded, and she huffed querulously.
“That’s because I was the real asshole. Trust me, nobody thinks you’re an asshole.”
“So you don’t think I’m an asshole?” he prompted, and she graced him with an affectionate smile.
“Shut up and eat your goulash.”
“You eat. What did you have for lunch today, anyway? Have some more rice, you barely have a thimbleful on your plate.” He reached for the rice and attempted to pile another spoonful onto her plate. She blocked his hand.
“Jesus, and you have the nerve to call me rude? You can’t just put more food on my—”
“Oh dear God,” Daisy chimed in dramatically. “Spencer’s the Dick, isn’t he? You’re the Dick?”
“Daisy, what the fuck?” Mason’s voice was laden with comical incredulity, and Daff and Spencer froze in midsquabble. They met each other’s eyes sheepishly, acknowledging that the jig was up.
“I’ve been called that on occasion,” Spencer admitted.
“You know?” Daff asked out of the corner of her mouth, and he smiled at her.
“That you have me down as the Dick on your phone? Word gets around. And seriously, a penis in a top hat? Can I see it?”
“Shut up,” she sulked, folding her arms over her chest and turning her focus on her truly horrified-looking sister. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in shit here.”
Spencer frowned, not sure how to deal with the situation other than to brazen it out—but that wasn’t something that was in his nature.
“Daff, how could you?” Daisy asked at the same time as Mason glared at Spencer.
“Seriously, bro?”
“What’s going on?” Tilda asked nervously while Chris sat back with a grin on his face, watching the drama unfold. Lia leaned over to whisper urgently in Tilda’s ear, clearly filling her in on the situation, if Tilda’s widening eyes and shocked gasps were anything to go by.
“Daffodil, a word, please,” Daisy said pointedly and then got up to stalk in the direction of the kitchen. Daff hesitated and then sighed in resignation.