“Wouldn’t eating now spoil the whole cake-tasting experience?” Daff asked.
“It’ll probably improve it. If I’m hungry, any old thing will taste awesome to me and I wouldn’t be making an informed decision. So you can totally share this with me.” Daisy looked uncertain for a moment before adding, “Unless your mystery man will be joining you for lunch?”
“There’s no mystery man,” Daff denied, blushing furiously, and Daisy’s loud, obnoxious snort of laughter told her that her sister wasn’t buying that denial at all.
“Is he a local guy?”
“There’s no guy.”
“So where did this come from?”
“Maybe I made it myself.”
“Please, you’re a terrible cook. There’s no way you made this.”
“I ordered takeout from MJ’s.”
“This has never been, and will never be, on MJ’s menu. So spin another tale.”
Before Daff could respond, her phone, which was resting on the counter between them, rang, and Daisy’s eyes widened when she saw the image and name that popped up on the screen.
Daff grabbed up the phone guiltily and jabbed the screen before lifting it to her ear and turning her back on Daisy. How could the man have such awesome sexual timing and such terrible timing everywhere else?
“Hey,” she greeted furtively, and then her eyes slid shut involuntarily when his rough, no-nonsense voice echoed the greeting.
“How’s lunch?” he asked.
“Haven’t had a chance to sample it yet,” she said in a near whisper, painfully aware of Daisy’s flapping ears.
“Make sure you eat it.”
“I will,” she promised him, an involuntary smile coming to her lips. With anybody else she would have taken exception to the bossiness, but on Spencer it was kind of endearing, maybe because she knew his gruffness stemmed from a genuine place of concern. And she just didn’t have the heart or will to be indignant.
“How was your meeting?” she asked.
“Still going. I took a quick break to call you.” He’d interrupted work for her? For her? That made her feel way too special.
“That’s—that’s . . . I honestly don’t know what that is.” He chuckled at the candid statement.
“It is what it is. See you later?”
“Definitely,” she promised him huskily. He disconnected the call, and Daff turned to face her avidly staring youngest sister nervously.
“Sooooo.” Daisy drew the word out irritatingly, her elbows resting on the counter and her chin cradled in the palms of her hands. “Who’s the Dick and does he really look like a cartoon penis in a top hat?”
Daff was grateful that she had so impulsively changed Spencer’s name and pic on her phone.
“He’s no one you need to concern yourself with.”
“Come on, Daff. A little hint. Where did you meet him?”
“It’s just a passing thing, Deedee. I don’t see the need to discuss the matter with you. If it were serious, it would be different. But it’s not. It’s just . . . sex.” She blushed a little, wondering why she felt like a fraud and a liar. And a traitor. She and Spencer had been clear on the matter. No-strings sex and no need to discuss this thing with family—especially not with nosy siblings.
“Fine, keep your secrets,” Daisy said with a put-out little huff, and Daff exhaled in frustration.
“Come on, Deedee, it’s still very new. I don’t feel comfortable talking about it. Especially when I know it’s not going anywhere.”
“You’ll let me know if anything changes? If it becomes serious?”
“It won’t.”
“I don’t know about that; you didn’t see your face when I first walked in here. You looked smitten.” Such a dated word. Quintessentially Daisy. It struck Daff that both her sisters were a lot more suited to Spencer than she was. Sweet and innocent and exactly the type of woman a decent, old-fashioned guy like Spencer needed in his life. Daff wasn’t sweet and she wasn’t innocent. She was much too cynical. Still, she wasn’t looking to settle down with the guy, so it didn’t matter if they weren’t compatible in any way other than sexually.
“I’m not smitten. He has a great body, a big dick, and can work wonders with his tongue,” she said, being deliberately crude, knowing her sister—who had been a freaking virgin before Mason—would be silenced by that. “That’s all I need from him.”
To her credit, Daisy, who did look a bit queasy after Daff’s frank statement, didn’t back down.
“He sends you lunch and writes you love notes—there has to be more to him than just a nice body and a . . . and a big p-penis.”
“Don’t forget the talented tongue,” Daff goaded, and Daisy glared at her. Daff waved the note in front of her face before continuing, “And this isn’t a love note. He’s telling me exactly where and how he wants to nail me next. Want to have a read? It’s very educational.”
“Sometimes it seems like you’ve never really left adolescence behind,” Daisy said tartly. “You behave like the same boy-crazy hormonal teenager you were in high school. What’s wrong with settling down?”
“Ugh, this again! Lia was the same. Why is it that the moment you find someone you’re ready to settle down with, you expect everybody else to follow suit? We don’t all want the same things in life, Daisy.”
“So what do you want?”
“I don’t bloody know. But why should I? Why can’t I just figure shit out as I go along?”
“Maybe because you’re thirty-two and directionless?”
“Well, we can’t all be perfect little Daisy McGregor with the degree and the career and the amazing man, can we? Some of us are born fuckups.”
“You’re not a fuckup.” Daisy rarely used profanity, and after getting over her surprise at the words, Daff was touched by her sister’s immediate and vehement defense. “You’re not. None of us think that. And maybe when you stop believing you are, you’ll be able to move forward with your life.”
“And how do you propose I move forward?” Daff had meant the words to be sharp and sarcastic, but instead they sounded almost . . . yearning.
“Quit this job, for one,” Daisy said softly. “You hate it. You’ve never said as much, but I know you do. You’re bored, and your active and intelligent mind is wasted here.”
Daff said nothing, not admitting or denying Daisy’s words, but surprised that her sister knew how much she hated the job. She had never divulged that information to anyone. Other than Spencer.
“I have to finish my lunch,” she said quietly, not acknowledging Daisy’s words. “If you still want half of this, I’ll stick it in a lunch box for you.”
“That’s okay. Mason will be here soon, and we can get lunch en route. But, before I forget, the other reason I popped in was to tell you that Mason and I are hosting a dinner for our wedding attendants—well, most of you. Sam Brand can’t make it, for obvious reasons. Just a fun evening so that everybody can get to know one another.”
“We already know one another.”
“Well, none of you have met Chris yet,” Daisy said, referring to Mason’s chef friend.
“When?”
“Saturday night. I hope you can make it.”
“It should be fine.”
“Feel free to invite your well-hung sex toy.”
“Daisy!” she gasped, shocked, and Daisy grinned unrepentantly. Lately her sweet youngest sister had developed the tendency to astonish her. And that was quite a feat. Daisy’s phone bleeped, and her smile softened when she looked at the screen.
“Mason’s here.” Mason’s sleek, sexy BMW i8 drove up just as she said the words, and she waved at him through the plate-glass windows. “See you on Saturday?”
“Yeah.”
Daisy had her hand on the door when Daff sighed and called her name. Her sister paused and looked back. “Enjoy the day, Deedee. I’m sorry about earlier.”
Daisy let go of the door and came back to enfold her in a tight hug.
“Don’t be silly. I shouldn’t have pushed the way I did.”
Daff ruffled Daisy’s crazy curls and gave her a nudge toward the door.
“Your carriage awaits, and your handsome prince is looking impatient to get you to himself.” They both watched Mason, who had vacated the car and was waiting next to the passenger door. He was shuffling from foot to foot in an attempt to stay warm in the frigid weather.
“We’ll chat later,” Daisy promised her before hurrying out to greet Mason. Daff watched as a goofy smile lit up Mason’s good-looking face and he wrapped his arms around Daisy’s cuddly figure, burying his nose in her neck for a brief instant before planting a hot kiss on Daisy’s lips.
Daff blushed at the steamy exchange—Daisy was her baby sister, after all—and was about to yell at them to get a room before they started making babies right on her doorstep when Mason lifted his head and smiled at Daisy. The naked adoration on the man’s face was evident to all, and Daff sighed softly. If she were a different person, she’d be envious. And she told herself that the only reason her chest felt so tight at the sight of the couple’s devotion to each other was because of the happiness she felt for her sister. Nothing else.