The Best Man (Alpha Men Book 2)By: Natasha Anders
“Thirty-two is not old,” Daffodil McGregor muttered under her breath while pasting a simpering smile on her face for the benefit of her elderly, “well-meaning” hag of an aunt. The one who had just told her that being cute and spunky lost its charm once you left your twenties behind. Horrible crone. If Daffodil were younger, she would slip some laxatives into the old girl’s tea and gleefully watch her desperately dodder her way to the toilet. Being a responsible adult could be so boring at times.
“Daff, I need your advice, please.” Her youngest sister, Daisy, wrapped an arm around her waist and turned her away from Aunt Ivy, who was still lecturing Daff about her waning charms. “Sorry, Auntie, I just need to borrow her for a few seconds.”
Daisy hurriedly dragged her away from Ivy, and Daff frowned at her shorter sister.
“None.” Daisy grinned. “Auntie Ivy looked like she needed rescuing from the impending Daffsplosion.”
“She was pissing me off, harping on and on about how old I was getting. Why are they even here? Who invited them?”
“Daff, I can’t not have the aunties at my engagement party,” Daisy admonished, and Daff rolled her eyes.
“It’s just an engagement party, not a wedding or anything.” Daff scowled, and Daisy dimpled at her adorably.
“It’s still a big deal,” she said. Daff sighed and tucked one of Daisy’s errant curls behind her ear.
“I can’t believe my baby sister is getting married,” she said, and Daisy grinned.
“I know, right? And to such a stud.” Daff’s eyes drifted over to where Daisy’s frankly gorgeous fiancé, Mason, was earnestly conversing with his older brother, Spencer. She had to admit, Mason Carlisle did fantastic things for a three-piece suit. Her attention shifted to the man standing beside him. Spencer didn’t look as comfortable in a suit. In fact, he looked too big, too rough, and too damned barbaric to do the Alexander McQueen suit any justice. He kept tugging at the tie, which—added to his overly long hair and dark stubble—gave him a generally disheveled appearance.
Mason—always aware of where Daisy was in a room—glanced over and graced her with a very hot, very intimate smile. Daff rolled her eyes when her sister sighed and practically melted in pleasure. Seriously, these two were perpetually horny. It was downright embarrassing to be in their company at times.
Spencer also looked over, and his stormy dark-green eyes clashed with Daff’s for a second before she deliberately looked away. She couldn’t stand the man. She had once harbored a smidgen of affection for him, but that was before he hurt Daisy in a misguided attempt to get closer to Daff. She peered over at her flushed sister, who was still eye-fucking Mason, and sighed. Okay, so everything had worked out in the end and Daisy had forgiven and forgotten because the whole debacle had won her Mason. But Daff was made of sterner stuff and Spencer had pissed her off. She didn’t forgive as easily.
Still, Daff was the maid of honor and Spencer was the best man, so for the sake of harmony it was probably better to declare a truce. The last McGregor wedding hadn’t ended well—her middle sister, Lia, had thankfully called the whole thing off—so Daff wanted to be sure this one was without any drama. Establishing some kind of peace with Spencer would probably go a long way toward making things easier for Daisy.
Mason was coming over, looking like a lovestruck fool floating on a sea of pheromones. The guy was practically drooling, for God’s sake.
“Hey, angel. Miss me?” His voice was pitched low and clearly intended for the only person currently in his field of vision. Daff might as well not have existed.
“Always.” Daisy smiled. Jesus, they lived together, spent every spare moment in each other’s company, and had been dancing together less than five minutes ago. Daff couldn’t fathom this kind of yearning for anybody. Once, long ago when she had been little more than a naïve, foolish girl, it might have been something she aspired to. Now, hard-earned experience had taught her that those innocent dreams of romance and love were not for her, and she hoped never to actually feel anything remotely similar. How terrifying that would be. And yet . . . sometimes it physically hurt Daff 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. The thought made her uncomfortable, and she just wanted to get away from them.