Home>>read The Best Man (Alpha Men Book 2) free online

The Best Man (Alpha Men Book 2)(7)

By:Natasha Anders


He released her hand before glancing around the table and then levering his bulk out of the chair with more grace than such a big man should ever possess.

“I’m off. Got plans.” Concise. The man didn’t believe in wasting words.

“Yeah? Do I know her?” Mason grinned and Spencer slanted him an unfathomable look.

“I’ll talk with you tomorrow. This should cover my bill,” he said without inflection, dropping some money on the table before nodding at the rest of the group in general. He left without any further comment.

“Okay, what’s up with him?” Daisy asked Mason as soon as Spencer was out of earshot. Mason was staring at his brother’s retreating back with a slight frown on his face.

“Not sure. He’s been a bit distant recently.”

“How do you think he took the news about us moving?” Daisy asked, and Mason shook his head.

“Not good.”

“How can you tell? The man’s expression barely changed,” Daff said, and Mason looked at her with speculatively raised brows.

“Watching closely, were you?”

“I’m just observant,” Daff muttered defensively, and Mason snorted.

“Not observant enough. His body language immediately changed. He shut himself in. He does that when he’s trying to shield his emotions—he battens down the hatches, so to speak. I think he feels . . . left out. Lonely, maybe.”

He looked disturbed by the notion, and Daisy leaned in to him and lifted a hand to his cheek.

“We’ll talk to him. Make sure he knows he’s important and welcome and included.” Mason lifted his hand to cover hers and turned his head to plant a kiss in her palm. Daff peered over at Lia and found her sister staring at Daisy and Mason with a kind of wistful envy on her face. Daff sighed; Lia really needed to get over this whole marriage and happily ever after thing. It helped to lower one’s expectations. Daisy was lucky and the exception. That kind of lightning-bolt, romantic shit didn’t happen every day.

“Lia, you ready to go?” Her question startled Lia out of her dreamy funk, and she stared at Daff blankly.

“What?”

“I need to get home,” Daff said. “Got some housecleaning to do.”

“Ah, your semiannual cleaning spree?” Daisy teased her. Daff was the slob of the three sisters and the victim of many hours of ribbing because of it.

“You’re going to need a shovel and a wheelbarrow,” Lia said. “Should I ask Daddy to drop them off for you?”

Mason was laughing his ass off by now, and Daff glared at the three of them.

“Why don’t you just hire someone to do your cleaning?” Mason asked between chuckles.

“I can do my own cleaning,” Daff grated, a little fed up with this by now.

“No, you can’t,” Daisy said, shaking her head. “Mason is right; you should get some help. It’s really nice to see the floor and be able to find your shoes—”

“Or your feet, for that matter,” Lia interrupted her.

“Jesus, it’s not that bad,” Daff growled, embarrassed. “You make me sound like one of those hoarders.”

“If the shoe fits,” Daisy said.

“She wouldn’t know if it fits, she can’t find it beneath the rubble,” Lia retorted, and the other three screamed with laughter.

“Oh, for God’s sake. Lia, are you taking me to my car or should I walk?”

Lia wiped her eyes, her shoulders still heaving with her silent chuckles.

“Yes, okay. Get your panties out of that twist.”

“This is what happens when she doesn’t eat. She gets mean and feral,” Daisy observed, and Daff glared at her.

“Watch it, Deedee,” she warned. “I know where you keep your girl porn.”

Mason sat up, immediately on high alert.

“Her what?” he asked eagerly.

“Nothing. Ignore her, hunger has made her delusional,” Daisy said, and Daff smirked, knowing that her sister’s fiancé would keep hounding Daisy until he found out exactly what Daff had meant by that comment. It wasn’t exactly porn, just a small stash of erotica that Daisy had been meaning to give away for years. She was too embarrassed to donate the books to the local library or clinic, because everybody would know it was from her. Daff had once suggested Daisy make anonymous donations, and her sister had confessed that she still had the childish habit of writing “this book belongs to Daisy McGregor” on the inside cover of every book she bought. Now Daisy’s eyes promised painful retribution as Mason immediately leaned toward her and started badgering her.

“What girl porn, Daisy? C’mon, I know you’re keeping something from me.”

“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” Daisy maintained, not meeting his eyes.

“Aw, angel, why you gotta be like this? If you have girlie porn, maybe we could have a read through together, see if there’s anything interesting to try.” Daisy’s chest hitched and her breathing increased as she lifted her eyes to meet his. The expression in them was shockingly sultry.

“You’re not exactly lacking in imagination,” Daisy said, a husky note entering her voice.

“Okay.” Daff surged to her feet and added a couple of bills to the money Spencer had left in the middle of the table. “I’m out of here. Coming, Lia?”

“Oh my God, yes, please.” Lia was on her feet in seconds, tossing her own money onto the growing pile, while Daff threw a disgusted look at the couple who barely seemed aware of their surroundings anymore.

“Ugh, sometimes you guys are a bit much,” Daff complained, and Lia made a strangled sound of agreement. They left the overly affectionate couple who acknowledged their departure with half-hearted waves before going back to their intimate whispering.

“Thanks, Lia,” Daff said after Lia parked beside her tiny hatchback VW at the farmhouse.

“You coming in to say hi?” her sister asked, unbuckling her seat belt.

“Nah, I just want to get home,” Daff responded, reaching for the door handle. Truth be told, she needed to figure out what she was going to do about the Spencer thing. Until she apologized to him, she wouldn’t feel right. She had said some truly awful and unfair things and now felt like the bitch everybody already thought she was.

“What did he say to you?” Daff asked, pausing with her fingers wrapped around the handle, and Lia frowned in confusion.

“What?”

“Spencer,” Daff clarified. “You were all eaten up with guilt about our conversation earlier until he whispered something in your ear. So what did he say?”

“Oh.” Lia hesitated, as if contemplating whether to divulge the information. “He said words don’t hurt, only actions do, and then he said that my actions have only ever shown me to be a kind and caring person.”

“He really said that?”

“Yes? Why? Surprised that a bland, insipid, boring guy like Spencer Carlisle would have insightful gems like that to offer?” Ouch! Turned out words did hurt, especially when they were thorny zingers laid on you by the sweetest person on earth.

“He’s full of shit,” Daff dismissed, and Lia surprised her by nodding.

“He is. Because words do hurt. You said terrible things and they hurt him, but he was sweet enough, kind enough to let me know that he didn’t hold me accountable for your words. So I will do him the courtesy of pretending that he meant what he said. In order to preserve his dignity and pride.”

Daff chewed on her lower lip, feeling justifiably put in her place.

“He wasn’t meant to hear what I said.”

“And yet he did.”

“Yes.”

Lia sighed. “Let me know if you need help with the cleanup.”

Somehow Daff didn’t think she meant the cleanup of the house, and that made her feel small and petty. Despite clearly being pissed off with her, Lia was still offering her moral support. Something Daff definitely didn’t deserve.

“I feel like crap, okay?” she admitted, and Lia leaned over to give her a one-armed hug.

“I know.”

Daff sighed heavily. “I’ll sort it out.”

“I know.”

Damn it. Her sister’s unwavering faith killed Daff. That was a hell of a lot to live up to.





CHAPTER THREE



Bland!

Thwack.

Insipid!

Thwack.

Boring!

Thwack! Thwack! Thwa—

“Fuck! Balls! Shit!” Spencer swore when his ax lodged in the fallen tree he’d been attempting to split for firewood. It wasn’t his favorite chore and he’d been delaying the job for days, but he needed to get the anger out of his system and could think of no better outlet than violent physical activity. It was this or beat the shit out of the punching bag in the makeshift gym that doubled as his home office. He had chosen this option because at least it yielded positive results from released negative energy.

Well, that was the idea, anyway. He glared at his stuck ax and swore again, wiping his forearm across his forehead to prevent the sweat beading there from dripping into his eyes. He tugged at the ax before releasing his breath on yet another curse word. He wasn’t getting the damned thing unstuck anytime soon. He’d need a chain saw or something to dislodge it.

God. Sometimes she pissed him off.

She made him feel capable of conquering mountains one day and smaller than a bug the next. It was very fucking unhealthy, and he knew it. But today . . . to hear those words from her. The wake-up call had been a long time coming, but it was welcome nonetheless. Just what he needed to get her out of his head once and for all. He didn’t know how someone with such a rancid personality could have come from such a perfectly lovely family. It was baffling, really. And she was one to comment on his character, when hers was as grating as nails on a chalkboard.