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“But you were fighting at dinner,” Daisy reminded her, dabbing beneath her eyes with a napkin.
“That? That wasn’t fighting, it was playing.”
“It was?”
“You’re so used to seeing us—me, really—fight, so that’s all you saw. Look closer next time.”
Daisy peered closely at Daff, which wasn’t quite what she had meant.
“You look different,” Daisy marveled. “Happier.”
“Well, I quit my job, I have an awesome new friend, and my sister’s getting married to a great guy. What’s not to be happy about?”
“And it’s that easy? Being friends after nearly being lovers?”
“We’re trying to make it work.”
Daisy graced her with a tremulous smile.
“It’s not just about the wedding, Daff. I don’t want either of you to get hurt. I hope you know that.”
“I know that.” Daff gave her sister a quick, tight hug. “Now how about we go eat that goulash? I’m starving and—don’t tell Spencer—I skipped lunch.”
The rest of the evening was actually quite pleasant. While Daisy and Mason watched Daff and Spencer closely, they continued to enjoy each other’s company. In fact, the scrutiny made them feel unified. Daff enjoyed that, she had never been great at team sports, but that’s what she and Spencer felt like tonight—a team.
Spencer kept checking his watch and she knew he was concerned about the girl, but after the evening had already been disrupted, he stoically stuck it out, not wanting to ruin it any further by leaving early. So they formed three teams of two and played a raucous game of 30 Seconds. The teams were Tilda and Lia, Daff and Spencer, and Mason and Daisy. Chris, claiming that his poor English made him a terrible game partner, sat out to be the timekeeper. It was a crazy-fast board game that had one partner trying to explain a list of five objects or people without saying any of the words on said card. There were lots of raised voices, rule disputes, and disgust at partners for not guessing correctly. It was hilarious, and Daisy and Mason won by the narrowest of margins—mostly because they knew each other’s verbal shortcuts and body language so well already.
After the game ended, Daff could see that Spencer was keen to get going, so she sidled up to him and dropped a hand on his arm and tugged him to one side.
“I’m going with you,” she said under her breath, keeping their conversation private.
“No.” His voice brooked no argument.
“I don’t think you should go alone.”
“I’m not. Mason is coming.”
“I’m still going with you, and if you don’t take me, I’ll just follow you in my car anyway.”
“Daff,” he began, his eyes and voice exasperated. “I don’t want you there. It’s no place for you.”
“That girl is going to be terrified to have two huge men sneaking up on her in the middle of the night,” she pointed out. “I want to ensure you don’t scare the poor thing half to death.”
She made sense and she knew he knew it. She could see it in the way he hesitated.
“Fine, but you’re going to have to stay way back.”
“That completely defeats the purpose,” she argued. “I should be with you when you go into her room. Why should I hang back? Unless . . . are you expecting trouble? Are you placing yourself in danger, Spencer?”
“No, of course not!” And yet he evaded her eyes.
“Spencer!” The word came out as a warning, and he glowered at her.
“We can’t be sure she’s alone, okay? So just give us a chance to check out the situation and then I’ll call you in.”
“If you get yourself hurt, I’m going to be pissed at you! And I’ll unfriend you before I even friend you.”
“What the fuck does that even mean?”
“Like on Facebook? It’s funny because we haven’t friended—” He continued to look at her blankly, and she gaped at him. “Spencer, you are on Facebook, right?”
“Would I be weird if I’m not?”
“Oh God. Let’s just get going . . .” He helped her into her coat—of course—and said a few hurried goodbyes to the rest of the group.
“I’ll drive,” Mason said once they were outside and led them to his Jeep. They all piled in, and Daff wrinkled her nose at the smell of wet dog. Mason often took Cooper for a run on the beach, and the interior of his Jeep had acquired the permanent odor of wet pooch.
The drive was conducted in grim silence, and a few minutes later Mason drew the car to a stop on the dirt road. It was far enough from the house for the headlights to not have been spotted.
Both men exited, and Spencer sent Daff a warning look.
“Don’t you dare move from here. I’ll send you a text if it’s clear.”
“Fair warning, if you don’t contact me within five minutes, I’m calling the police and then I’m coming to find you.”
