The Wingman

ONE YEAR LATER

Daisy and Mason’s engagement party was in full swing but, despite the festivities around her, Daff circled the room restlessly feeling out of sorts and a little bit moody, like a shark cruising the shallows looking for a potential victim. She spotted her prey just a couple of feet away and made her way to his side. He was a big bastard, topping her five foot seven height by at least seven inches. Massively built with shoulders that could block out the sun, he was easily twice her size, but all muscle. She knew he kept fit, always out playing rugby, swimming, cycling, and surfing. While his brother had a lean elegance to his gorgeous body, Spencer was all brute force.

“Stop fiddling with that tie,” she said when he tugged at the length of fabric. “You’ve done enough damage.”

“What do you care?” He glared at her from beneath that fall of black hair. He looked like a beast, hulking, menacing . . . His hair fell over his eyes, a wild, sleek mane. It was kind of thrilling how savage he seemed at times. No wonder he always messed up flirting with her; he had all the finesse of a stampeding bull.

“Fine, if you want to continue looking barely civilized, then by all means, fiddle away.” She continued to stand beside him, sipping her bubbly while he wavered for a few seconds before his hand discreetly went up to touch the knot of his tie, obviously checking if it were as bad as she’d implied.

“So your brother finally popped the question,” she said, her eyes going to the happy couple dancing in the middle of the room. They were so damned perfect together. Daff couldn’t fathom that kind of yearning for anybody. It wasn’t something she had ever aspired to, and she hoped never to actually feel anything remotely similar. How terrifying that would be. And yet . . . sometimes it physically hurt to see them together. She was pleased for Daisy; her sister deserved all the happiness in the world, and Mason made her ecstatic, but looking at them made Daff feel . . . lonely.

“I think he started asking her about six months ago. She finally said yes,” Spencer corrected, and Daff grinned. The couple’s relationship had been anything but ordinary, so the news didn’t surprise her in the slightest.

“And you’re the best man?” She framed it as a question, and he nodded.

“Well, since I’m the maid of honor, we’ll be partnered and expected to do stuff together. I just wanted to be sure you were okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“We haven’t really been on good terms.”

“I hadn’t noticed. You don’t exactly feature prominently in my life.” Ouch. That hurt.

“Right. Anyway. Bygones?”

“If you say so.” He shrugged. Feeling foolish, Daff walked away and wished she’d never approached him in the first place.




“I can’t resist it,” Daisy whispered, and Mason grinned.

“Try,” he said for the sheer hell of it.

“You know I can’t.”

“This time, I’m sure you can.”

“No. I’m seriously OCD about it.”

“Then go for it,” he said and stepped away from her. And she went for it. In the middle of “Lady in Red,” she slowly formed beaks with her hands, and did a couple of arm flaps followed by a sexy little butt wriggle. Before she could finish with a clap, Mason took her hands and pulled her back into his arms, laughing heartily as he did so.

“Oh, babe, I love you so damned much.”

“Yeah, you do,” she said contentedly, and he kissed her.

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