Don’t HIT HIM!
“I mean, I wouldn’t want to be seen with her in public. But I figure it’d be a novelty to fuck a fattie. More cushion for the pushin’, as the saying goes.”
DON’T HIT HIM! It was becoming a mantra. A strident, unwelcome mantra.
“Right?” Edmonton continued to spew. “I suppose you’re an adventurer, willing to try anything at least once. I’ve always wondered about that one. The repressed ones are dynamite in the sack, right? Am I right, bro?”
Seriously? Fuck this guy. The rage inside Mason went quiet as his visual range narrowed until all he saw was his target: the braying ass in front of him. He inhaled slowly, feeling as lethal as he ever had on the battlefield.
He exhaled, hauled back, and slammed his fist into the bastard’s midriff, reaching out to grab the front of his preppy polo shirt in his other hand. Edmonton was bent over and wheezing for breath, and Mason leaned in, ignoring the man’s flinch, to speak close to his ear, his voice pitched low enough for only him to hear. “I know what you’ve been doing to Daisy, Edmonton. If you ever touch her again, I swear to God you’ll be shitting your own teeth for a week. Got it?” He thumped the still-gasping man on his back with his free hand before shoving him toward his groomsmen.
“If any of you so much as breathe wrong in her direction,” he said, his voice quiet and seething with fury, lifting his gaze to include the rest of the shocked little group, “I’ll show you exactly how many ways there are to fuck someone up without leaving a mark. Am I clear?”
Hasty nods.
“Great,” he said, dusting his hands and rolling his neck. He glanced at a still-wheezing Edmonton and smiled, a cold baring of his teeth that had been known to scare people shitless. “Walk it off, asshole. You’ll be fine.”
He picked up the bag from where it had fallen and inspected the clubs for any damage. Luckily everything looked in order.
“I’d say this game is over, wouldn’t you? Let’s never do this again.”
He sauntered to his golf cart and tossed the bag into the back and drove off without looking back. One punch hadn’t been enough, but if he stayed any longer he’d probably wind up maiming or killing the man. Mason had deliberately given him just that love tap of a punch because if he unleashed all the fury he felt on the man, Edmonton wouldn’t be getting up from it. Best Mason remove himself from the situation before the temptation to do worse overcame him.
He definitely needed a drink.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It was practically impossible to get Lia alone that morning. By the time Daff and Daisy got to the spa, all the other bridesmaids were there already, and Lia refused to let her sisters draw her away from the rest of the group. So Daff and Daisy went ahead with the weird mud wraps and nail treatments, the facials and hot stone massages. There was an awkward moment in the change room, when everybody else had seen the bruises on her skin, despite Daisy’s attempts to keep them hidden. But Daff had eased the moment by making a silly joke about Mason obviously being a wild man in the sack. Everybody had laughed uncomfortably, and Daisy had hastily dragged on a robe to hide both her body and the bruises from everybody’s prying eyes.
The spa wasn’t so bad; in fact, if it weren’t for the rather urgent need to speak with her sister, Daisy would have enjoyed the experience a heck of a lot more. She wasn’t one for spas and stuff, but after the rigors of the night before, the treatments had definitely relaxed and rejuvenated her. In fact, she might well do this more often, especially since it resulted in smooth skin, pretty nails, and an all-over feeling of general well-being.
It was equally difficult to talk to Lia during brunch, and Daisy could see that Daff was becoming similarly frustrated. It didn’t help that Zinzi and Shar were being even more bitchy than usual. They kept making snide little comments and giving Daisy pointed sidelong glances and blatantly giggling behind their hands like gossiping schoolgirls. They weren’t usually so overt, but this morning it was evident even to the rest of the group. The two tended to keep their bitchiness hidden from Lia, but Daisy could see her sister was starting to notice their lousy behavior. Daisy had bigger concerns than Zinzi and Shar, and she happily ignored their rudeness.
“Lia, I’m serious, we really have to talk,” Daisy whispered to her sister for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, and Lia, her face pale and pinched, finally snapped.
“What?” she shouted, the sharp edge in her voice silencing the entire group of women. “For God’s sake what? What’s so important that you can’t just let me enjoy this morning?”
Daisy cast an awkward glance around the room of avidly staring women and sent a pleading glance at Daff, who made her way toward them.
“Not here,” Daisy whispered miserably. “It’s a private matter.”
“I’m a little busy today, in case it’s escaped your notice.”
“It’s about Clayton,” Daff gritted out, losing her patience.
“This again?” Lia wasn’t even attempting to keep her voice down, and the other women were all painfully silent. “Why won’t you two accept that this wedding is happening and just be happy for me?”
“Lia, we can’t discuss this here,” Daisy said calmly. “Please can we talk about this somewhere a little quieter?”
“No! Nothing you say will make me change my mind!”