The Best Man (Alpha Men Book 2)(43)

She giggled, and he looked at her, surprised by the sound.

“You sound like a dad.”

He replayed the words in his head. The thought kind of pleased him. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

“Do I? I have no clue what a real dad sounds like,” he said with a perplexed shrug. The movement brought attention to the fact that her hand was in his again. It was starting to feel like it belonged there, and he tried to veer his thoughts off that dangerous path. He couldn’t think of Daff in those terms.

Friends didn’t hold hands, and if they kept touching like this, he’d lose sight of the true nature of his and Daff’s confusing relationship. He subtly moved his hand out of her hold and folded his arms over his chest while he continued to watch the touching tableau of developing kinship in front of him.

She didn’t say anything, just pushed her hands in her coat pockets.

“Come on in, everybody,” Mrs. McGregor invited them. “I have no idea why we’re all on the porch, it’s freezing out here. Let’s get in out of the cold.” She dropped an arm around Charlie’s shoulders, not acknowledging the girl’s tension. “Would you like some hot chocolate, sweetheart?”

“I’ve got to get going,” Spencer muttered as the larger group splintered and headed into the house.

“Well, you can’t. Your ride’s just gone inside for some of my mom’s awesome hot chocolate. Guess you’re stuck with us for a little while longer.”

This time Daff tucked a hand into the crook of his elbow and tugged him toward the house. He allowed her to pull him into the large, warm kitchen, where everyone had congregated. Mrs. McGregor was in her element, bustling around, making sure everyone had a cup of something. She beamed when she caught sight of Spencer.

“Hello, Spencer, would you like a cup of hot chocolate as well? Tea? Or something stronger?”

“The chocolate’s fine, ma’am,” he murmured and then remembered his manners. “Please. Thank you.”

“Please, call me Millicent,” she invited him, and he was appalled by that idea. It seemed disrespectful to just call her by her first name. He cleared his throat and threw her an awkward smile and a short nod.

His eyes drifted to the girl sitting at the kitchen table; she had her head down and looked completely overwhelmed. The mug of chocolate sat untouched on the table in front of her.

“She should go to bed.” The words sounded harsh and way too loud, dropping into one of those odd silences that sometimes fell over a group of people. The girl’s beautiful green eyes—so striking against her light-brown skin—lifted and met his. They were seething with anger and resentment. She probably thought he was trying to tell her what to do again. But he knew how terrifying this all had to be for her and thought she might need a little space and some privacy to process everything that was happening.

Everybody else was staring at him, too, and he flushed, uncomfortable with the unwanted attention.

“Of course, this is all new and a little scary, I’m sure,” Mrs. McGregor said and then smiled at Charlie. “Why don’t I show you to your room? If you don’t mind, I’d like to give your clothes a wash, but you can wear some of Daff’s and Lia’s stuff in the meantime. I’m sure you’d love a hot shower or bath, wouldn’t you? Just to get the cold out of your bones.”

She led the girl out, chatting amiably all the way. Charlie looked over her shoulder as they left, her eyes seeking and finding Spencer’s. Even though she seemed to resent him, he was familiar, and sometimes the devil you knew was a lot less intimidating than the one you didn’t. A huge part of him wanted to drag her to his home and take care of her there. But he wasn’t equipped to care for a young girl. Not yet. He would make sure there was a room ready for her in no time. She was his family, and it was only right he be the one to take care of her.

When Mrs. McGregor and Charlie were out of earshot, everybody left in the kitchen seemed to exhale collectively.

Mason ran his hands through his hair and looked at Spencer with a helpless shake of his head.

“Now what?”

“We have to get her papers, start looking into legal guardianship.”

“You sure that’s the right course of action?”

“I don’t see what other options we have.”

“She may have other family, on her mother’s side.”

“Yeah. No. I’m not down with that. Where were they when her mother died? They left her with Malcolm for four years. Even if they are out there, they’re not getting her. Now that we know she exists, are you really cool with someone else taking care of her?”

“Of course not, but it’s a lot to put on you, Spence. Daisy and I are leaving in a few short months, and you’d be left shouldering the bulk of the responsibility on your own.”

“We could always take her with us,” Daisy suggested softly. Her arm was hooked through Mason’s and he seemed to be hanging on to her for support.

“No.” Spencer was aware that he’d barked the word, but he couldn’t help himself. “She’ll stay with me. I have the space. And you guys will be newlyweds—you need your privacy.”

“You can make these decisions later,” Dr. McGregor intervened quietly. “Charlie is safe for now, and Millicent and I will be happy to take care of her until you’ve figured out your next step.”

“With all due respect, sir, I can take care of my own family.”

“I know that, son, and you’ve done an admirable job over the years. But you’re a part of our family now, and it always helps to share the burden.”

Why did they all refer to him as “family”? It made him uncomfortable. He’d done nothing to earn his way into this family. Mason was marrying into it, Spencer wasn’t. And while everything in him yearned to belong, it just seemed too easy and completely undeserved.

“Just until we get the legalities sorted out,” he grudgingly relented, ignoring the whole “family” thing.

“I think our immediate concern is preventing her from bolting. The kid looks skittish,” Mason said, and Spencer sighed. How had things suddenly become so complicated? Just a week ago, his biggest concern had been his store expansion. Seven days later, he was entangled in the most confusing relationship he’d ever been in, with the world’s most complicated woman. His brother was leaving again, and he had a stag party to plan, a best man’s speech to write, and a frickin’ baby sister who’d popped up out of nowhere.

Millicent McGregor came back downstairs, the smile gone from her face, replaced by a troubled frown.

“That poor child is way too thin and so guarded. Gaining her trust is going to take some doing. Such a pretty little thing, even if she does try to hide it under that gruff exterior. I suppose it comes from pretending to be a boy. I’m so happy she found her way home to you boys,” she said, reaching over to squeeze Spencer’s hand. “She has no idea how lucky she is to have you two.”

Did she really think that? The sincerity shining from her eyes certainly seemed to confirm that she believed what she was saying, and everybody else in the kitchen was nodding in agreement.

“Anyway, I’ve put her in Daff’s old room for now. And I gave her some of you girls’ clothes. I hope you don’t mind?” she asked but didn’t seem too concerned over the reply. “She’s just having a shower now.”

“Do you think she’ll run away?” Lia asked quietly.

“She’s too tired for that tonight. And if she means to sneak out first thing in the morning, she’ll have a tough time of it, what with your father’s tendency to rise with the birds. I think she’ll stay put for now.”

“It’s been an exhausting and eventful evening; I think we’ll head home. Get some rest,” Mason said, casting his eyes around the room for affirmation. Daisy and Daff nodded, but Spencer hesitated, reluctant to let the girl out of his radius.

“She’ll be fine, Spence,” Mason murmured, and Spencer nodded. As long as she didn’t think they’d abandoned her.

“Can you tell her we’ll be back in the morning? To talk?” he asked Mrs. McGregor gruffly, and she smiled reassuringly.

“Of course I will.”

“Rough week, huh?” Daff muttered in the car, en route to Mason and Daisy’s place.

“Hmm.” Rough was understating it.

“I want you to know I’m here for you if you need someone to talk to. I have younger sisters, too, and they can be a total pain.” She raised her voice so that Daisy could hear the last bit, and the younger woman—whose curly head was resting on Mason’s shoulder—casually stuck up a middle finger in response.

“See what I’m dealing with? No respect.” Spencer peered at her smiling face, clearly visible only when they passed a streetlamp. She was smiling, looking so fucking approachable and beautiful.

He wished . . . he wanted . . .

He shook himself. What he wished or wanted didn’t signify. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand.

“Thank you. For tonight. For coming. It meant a lot.” They passed another light, and he could see the small smile on her lips. She lifted her hand to cover his, stroking her palm over the backs of his fingers.