The Best Man (Alpha Men 2)

“Do you know about makeup . . . and stuff?” Charlie asked after a beat.

“Of course I do,” Daff said nonchalantly. “I could give you some makeup tips if you like.”

“She’s a little young, Daff,” Spencer said, and she threw him a look of exaggerated, openmouthed shock.

“A woman is never too young to learn about makeup, Spencer,” she admonished, wagging a finger in his face, and Spencer bit back his response when Charlie giggled at her words. The sound was so sweet, carefree, and innocent that it took the wind clear out of his sails.

“Sorry, ladies. I stand corrected,” he said meekly. When he sneaked another peek at Charlie, he was rewarded by the look of astonishment on her face. Daff reached over and squeezed his thigh in approval.

“Anyway, how can you handle all the lovey-dovey stuff over at Daisy and Mason’s?”

“They kiss a lot,” Charlie admitted, sounding faintly disgusted. “Nobody needs to see that from old people.”

“Tell me about it.” Daff groaned. “Fair warning though, kid. It won’t be as often, or as gross, but you’ll see me kiss your big brother a bit today, too.”

“Ugh, no. What’s wrong with all of you?” she squeaked, and Spencer hid a grin. He was so damned thrilled that she hadn’t protested his title of “big brother.” Daff had slipped it into the conversation so insouciantly that Charlie had just accepted it, instead focusing on the grosser revelations in the sentence. His hand dropped to where hers still rested on his thigh and he squeezed her fingers gratefully.

“It feels good to kiss,” Daff said. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“No, she won’t,” Spencer snapped, and Daff rolled her eyes. “No kissing, Charlie. Not until you’re thirty-five.”

“Jeez. Big brothers. Your poor boyfriends are going to have a hard time getting past Spencer and Mason.”

“Daff, stop corrupting my sister—” The word slipped out without thought and caught all of them unaware. Daff’s lips curled into a smile and Charlie, quite shockingly, said nothing in protest to his claim. He met her eyes in the rearview mirror, where she was eyeing him speculatively, as if she couldn’t make up her mind about something.

“I like Cooper and Peaches,” Charlie said, unexpectedly changing the subject, her eyes narrowing as they held his.

“Is that right?” Spencer asked, and she nodded, her eyes challenging. He grinned and she blinked, looking completely thrown by his reaction. “You know Mason and Daisy are taking the dogs to Grahamstown with them, right?”

“I know.”

“Guess I’ll have to get you a dog of your own,” he said nonchalantly and released her eyes to focus his attention back on the road.

She said nothing in response to that, but Spencer felt lighter and happier than he had during any previous interaction with Charlie. His hand clung to Daff’s for the rest of the fifty-minute drive to Mossel Bay.

The morning was pretty pleasant. Spencer let Daff and Charlie chatter on. The teen was recalcitrant at first, selfishly hogging her words, and he really couldn’t blame her. Not when he often did the same thing, especially around strangers. They leisurely explored the small coastal town for about forty minutes before Daff dragged Charlie off for some shopping—no boys allowed—and left Spencer to wander around on his own for a while.

He stopped in front of a small, upmarket jewelry store and scanned the window display for the longest time before venturing in for a closer look at the wares. Maybe a small gift for Daff? He wasn’t even sure if she was into jewelry. Although she always seemed to be wearing necklaces and stuff, he wasn’t certain how she would receive a gift such as this, but he couldn’t resist. He imagined her in sapphires—they would look amazing on her skin and bring out the blue notes in her gray eyes. Or maybe rubies, to match her gorgeous, velvety soft lips. She wouldn’t go for diamonds, not his colorful Daff.

He inspected the bracelets and necklaces, the earrings and the charms, and in the end, not sure how it happened, walked out with a ring. A rose-gold ring with a pear-cut peach sapphire. It had a warm vibrancy to it that reminded him of Daff.

And there was no fooling himself—it was an engagement ring. An engagement ring for a woman who wanted no strings and who would probably run screaming for the hills if he so much as hinted at marriage.

Spencer was fucked and he knew it.

Spencer seemed tense during lunch. He could barely meet her eyes, and Daff wondered if Mason or Daisy had contacted him while she and Charlie had gone to do their “lady shopping.” It wouldn’t surprise her, since she’d received a WTF text from Daisy about half an hour earlier. Daff hadn’t responded, fed up with having to explain herself to them. They would have to trust that she and Spencer were adult enough not to drag the family into a divisive brawl after this thing between them ended.