Cocky Suits Chicago: Books 1-3

by Alex Wolf

  This woman might be the biggest dipshit I’ve ever met.

  Not only does she want a movie deal out of what she did, she called the fucking attorneys representing her former boss. Her hand on my thigh is a clear indication of exactly what she’s willing to do to get it.

  I push down the rage building in my chest, and somehow manage to politely remove her hand from my leg. All I can think about is Quinn and how pissed she would be if she saw what was happening.

  “Do you practice entertainment law? We’d look great together in the media. I looked up your brother and saw he’s engaged but you’re better looking anyway.”

  Part of me is so shocked at this woman, it makes it difficult to stand up and get the fuck out of here. I glance at my watch and down the rest of my drink, trying to play it cool before I make my escape because she’s clearly a stage five clinger.

  “Do you think Cole would want to team up?”

  Is she serious? Cole fired her. “No.”

  She frowns.

  I bite back all the shit I want to say to her. “I apologize, but I won’t be able to help you. Good luck, though.” I walk from the table without looking back. I don’t want to turn around and give her some reason to come chasing after me.

  The minute I’m out the door, I already have Quinn’s number pulled up. We need to talk. I have to tell her how I feel and make her understand, because I can’t keep these emotions in check. She keeps sending me to voicemail and it’s really starting to piss me off. If I knew her address, I’d drive straight to her damn house.

  Quinn didn’t respond to any of my calls or texts all night long or this morning. The second I walk in the office I search for her. She isn’t at her desk or in the breakroom. I even check the freaking bathroom. She’s clearly going out of her way to avoid me.

  Is she that pissed off?

  Surely not, but it makes me even more determined to find her. She’s going to talk to me one way or the other. When I get to my desk, I call and order her flowers and two boxes of chocolate this time.

  It’s Friday after all. Some traditions are sacred.

  She might throw them away, but she can’t hide that quick smile that lights up on her face every time.

  She’s permanent relationship material. The kind of woman you take home to meet the parents. I never thought I could do the serious thing, but she’s it. Deep down, I’ve known all along. I can’t stop thinking about it—about her. Non-stop, twenty-four seven, on a fucking loop, Quinn on the brain. Taking this to the next level is my only option because I can’t see myself ever not wanting to be with her.

  On my way to lunch, I finally catch her at her desk but the second she sees me she bolts from her chair.

  Part of me is flustered, but I’m a competitive son of a bitch. It only fuels the fire.

  Two can play this game. Does she really think she can avoid me forever? I pull out my phone and put my plan into action.

  Check mate, Quinn.

  Quinn

  A notification from Outlook pings on my phone.

  What the hell?

  I open it and the bright red letters jump out at me. It’s a meeting request with Deacon and it’s marked urgent. It has the exclamation point and everything.

  He doesn’t set up meetings. I can’t believe he even figured out how to work the damn thing.

  My face heats up and the hackles on the back of my neck rise. It’s just like him to abuse his authority to get his way.

  If I don’t show for the meeting he could go to Decker and get me in trouble for insubordination. I wouldn’t put it past him to make up some reason why he needs to meet and make me look bad for not responding.

  The worst part is he knows me damn near as well as I know myself. When I have something on my schedule, I have to check it off. It’s one of my biggest pet peeves; tasks lingering and not closed out. I grind my teeth as I hit accept on the meeting.

  He’s a jerk.

  The time for us to meet rolls around, and I march into his office—on time—to give him a piece of my mind.

  “Shut the door and have a seat.” He speaks before I can get a word in and it flusters me even more.

  The smug bastard grins from behind his big desk. Man, he looks powerful in his Saint Laurent three-piece suit.

  Stay focused.

  I remain standing and look away from him just so his smoldering gaze won’t get to me. My brain already spent the entire night cursing him, then trying to reason away what he was doing. In a rare turn of events, the part of my brain that tried not to hate him seemed logical. I didn’t give him a chance to explain and I should have. I never jump to conclusions about things, except when it comes to Deacon. In fact, I hate when people do it.

  After a long self-debate, I realized I was searching for a reason to end things with him, so I wouldn’t get hurt. This is the perfect opportunity for it, and I’m not sure when another one might present itself.

  “About last night…”

  “Save it for someone else.” I fold my arms across my chest and shake my head. His lame excuses make no difference—that’s what I tell myself—and yet part of me wants to hear every last word. Instead, I convince my brain I deserve better and I’m not going to settle for some asshole player who might screw half of Chicago.

  Nothing he says will change my mind. This was good while it lasted, but it can’t continue. We need to quit while we’re ahead.

  Deacon takes a step toward me, reaching for my forearms. “Will you just calm down for two goddamn seconds? Last night when you called, I was in a meeting. It was work related.”

  Did he just tell me to calm down? Does he not know a damn thing about women?

  I yank my arms back. “Sorry, am I being too hysterical for you, Deacon?”

  He must realize he said the wrong thing, because his eyes widen when he sees the scowl on my face.

  I hold up my hand and take a deep breath. “You know what? It’s fine. You aren’t my boyfriend. You don’t owe me an explanation.”

  “Look.” He holds up a notepad as if it’s supposed to mean something to me.

  God, why can’t he just let this go? Why does he have to be so focused on me?

  “I was meeting with Karen Richardson.”

  I didn’t realize it was possible to scowl harder than I already was, but I pull it off somehow. Was that supposed to make me feel better? I know who that woman is and what she looks like. Our firm has no reason to meet up with her for business. We’re representing Mr. Miller. There’s only one reason Deacon would be out with her so damn late. I wasn’t born yesterday.

  This seals the deal. I convince myself this is the chance I’ve been looking for to put all this shit in the rearview mirror. Maybe if I make it seem like it was my fault, it’ll ease his conscience and he’ll finally move on. “Look, Deacon. It’s okay, really. We had a good run. It was fun until it wasn’t. I’ve been reckless and stupid to let it continue. It’s my fault for letting it go on this long. It was bound to end in disaster so let’s just rip the band aid off before it gets any more complicated. Please?”

  As I speak, he stands up and pours himself a glass of water at a side table, ignoring my question.

  I stand there, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn’t. Finally, I nod. “All right, then. Good chat. I’m just going to go…” I trail off when he still doesn’t reply and head toward the door.

  Right when I’m a few feet from freedom, he grabs my hand and spins me around.

  Shit.

  Now, his back’s to the door blocking my path. “We’re not done here.”

  My pulse hammers at the sight of him. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen his stare this intense. A storm rages behind his gray eyes, and I think I might drown in it. He doesn’t even look mad, he’s just so—serious.

  I expect his eyes to rake up and down my body like they normally do, but they stay locked on mine. He doesn’t even blink. “Nothing happened with that idiot last night.”

  I nod, but it’s
obviously fake. “Okay.”

  “You want the truth. I’ll give it to you. She called and wanted to meet. I thought maybe I could get some information that could help the Miller case, so I could get Tate and Decker off my ass. That woman slid in next to me in a booth, and the only thing that went through my mind was, ‘What if Quinn saw me like this?’ And I got the fuck out of there as fast as I could and tried to call you back.”

  I know he’s telling the truth, but this is my one opportunity to stop this madness before it escalates into a situation that hurts me. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

  “Why can’t you just admit this is real between us?”

  I feign ignorance. “I, umm…what are you talking about?”

  “Stop denying it. You want me to kiss you—right now.”

  Yes, I want it so damn bad, but we have to end this. “No, I…”

  “Bullshit. It’s the only fucking thing going on in that head of yours and you hate yourself for it. I have no clue why you’re fighting this, but you are.” He leans in close, so close I feel his warm breath in my ear. “And if I put my hand up your skirt, we both know what I’d find. Your pussy, wet.”

  “You’re an asshole.” I spit the words at him.

  The insult doesn’t stop his mouth from crashing down on mine, turning my legs into nothing but trembling support beams that could give out any second. For a moment, my weakness almost wins out.

  Almost.

  Instead, I turn my head, separating our mouths. “Get out of my way.”

  Deacon’s eyes burn into my retinas, but his mouth forms that cocky smirk of his, like he knows something I don’t, and he nods lightly. “Okay.” He steps out of the way. “I’ll give you space for now.”

  As I walk past him, he leans down to my ear. “But nothing has changed. I will have you.”

  Deacon’s words still ring in my head as I get out of my car and walk down the street to Heather’s store. It sends a shiver up my spine just thinking about his voice, and goosebumps pebble down my arms.

  My stomach tightens into a nervous knot thinking about what he said to me on my way out.

  “Nothing has changed. I will have you.”

  The authority in his voice, and the way he said it—ugh, why can’t I stay away from him? There was no mistaking his tone. He meant every last damn word of it. Why does he have to be so—Deacon? It’s freaking hot and drives me nuts at the same time, not in a good way. How dare he act like he’ll have me? What? Like he’ll own me? Is that all I am to him? Some possession, like a toy he can take out and play with whenever he feels like it?

  He says he wants a serious relationship, but does he really know what he’s asking for? Not to mention, I don’t have time for something like that. I just don’t. Even if I wanted to give him a chance, I can’t make that commitment right now. Even if he’s capable of it, which I’m not convinced he is, it’s still not possible.

  I’m so damn confused, and I hate being confused. I like my life simple. A plus B equals C. Easy and clean. Black and white.

  Deacon Collins muddies the waters. Everything is a gray area with him. Part of me is all for it and part of me wants to scream at the top of my lungs.

  I could really use some girl talk. Hence, why I’m waiting for Heather to get off work and gathering up the nerve to tell her about my secret fling with Deacon.

  Keeping all this in for so long has made me crazy. She’s going to be upset I hid it from her, but I hope she’ll get over it quickly because I really need her right now. Hopefully, she’ll understand, because she knows I like to keep my private life, well, private.

  Heather must spot me debating with myself in front of the store. I don’t even notice her until she’s up in my face, going in for a hug. “Hey. I’ve missed you.” She practically glows as she wraps her arms around me.

  That glow can only mean one thing, she’s falling for Stewart. He’s so wrong for her, but what can I say, really? I’ve been banging my boss’s brother for months. I’m not exactly Dr. Drew.

  “Yeah, I had the big test.”

  “That’s right. How’d you do?”

  “They’re posting grades tomorrow, but I’m pretty sure I nailed it.”

  “Knew you would. We should go for drinks to celebrate.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “Let me clock out and grab my purse.” Her eyes light up. “Oh, my God. We should do karaoke at the bar down the road. I’ll text Stewart.”

  I roll my eyes when she’s not looking. So much for girl talk. I don’t want to rain on her parade but hanging out with Stewart is the furthest thing from fun I can imagine. If she tells him I’ll be there, Carter will show up too. I don’t know if I can handle this, but I go along with it anyway.

  She heads inside and returns with her bag. “You hungry? They have appetizers, I think.”

  I nod. “Sure.”

  We walk a few blocks down to the bar. A sign out front reads Karaoke 24/7.

  My stomach growls as soon as the fried food smells waft into my nose. After the stressful week I’ve had I’m game for grease and alcohol. Between the shit with Deacon and worrying about my test I feel like I’ve been through the wringer.

  Thunder rumbles above and a few raindrops plop on my head. It has to be an omen. We make a run for it and manage to dodge the incoming storm. Once we’re inside the bar, I duck into the bathroom and dry off with a few paper towels. I remove the mascara from my eyes while Heather grabs us a table. After touching up my makeup, I run my fingers through my tangled hair to prevent knots. My phone pings with a text from Deacon, but I hit delete without even reading it.

  Jerk.

  I don’t know why I let him get to me the way he does.

  Because he’s hot and funny and relentless.

  Shut up, brain.

  I fire off a quick text to Dad, so he doesn’t worry when I’m not home at my usual time. Now that my reflection in the mirror borders on presentable, I shove my phone in my bag in case Deacon decides to call. I don’t want to be tempted to answer.

  I walk out and find Heather sitting at a table near the karaoke stage waiting on me with a pitcher of Bud Light and a basket of fried cheese sticks.

  “Just us tonight. Stewart’s working.”

  She frowns.

  Secretly, I breathe a huge sigh of relief. “Good,” I mumble where she can’t hear and shove a cheese stick in my mouth. It’s like heaven and I must look like I’m enjoying myself too much.

  Heather tenses up but she doesn’t say anything.

  It’s probably a good thing because if she starts in on me, I might say something I’ll regret. I don’t want to argue with her about how ridiculous men are, and I don’t want to hear how amazing Stewart is because he’s this week’s boyfriend. I just want to enjoy myself.

  It’s not like I can really say much, anyway. This is who Heather is. She’s a romantic, always falling hard and fast. I’ve known that since we were young, so I shouldn’t expect anything else from her.

  Before long, the topic of conversation shifts to work and school, and we’re laughing and cutting up like usual.

  I down one beer after another, drinking much faster than I should.

  It just feels so good once it hits my lips.

  Wow, quoting Old School? Slow down.

  The happy hour crowd files in and the music starts up. After a few rounds, we make our way onto the stage to sing every single girl’s anthem. Truth Hurts by Lizzo.

  Heather shakes her ass while I belt out the lyrics. I’m positive I sound much better to myself than I do to everyone else, but who cares? This is exactly what I needed. To cut loose and forget about the world and all my problems for a bit.

  Until I have to face Deacon tomorrow at work, anyway.

  Deacon

  I leave a note with the flowers and chocolate.

  If I find these in the trash there’ll be two dozen next Friday along with a mariachi band.

  -D

  I move down the hall and wa
it for her to arrive. Watching her reaction is the best part, and I never miss it. I peek around the corner when she drops her bag into the bottom drawer of the desk like she always does.

  She eyes the flowers and chocolate but doesn’t touch them. I watch while she picks up the note. She scans over my handwriting, her lips moving as she reads the words to herself. Her eyes widen and she stares down at the trash can next to her desk.

  You don’t have it in you, Quinn.

  Her lips curl up into a smile, just for a split-second, before a scowl returns.

  You’re mine and you know it.

  She doesn’t toss the flowers in the trash. But even if she had, it would’ve been worth it to see that smile.

  It may have been short-lived, but she cares. She feels this between us and she’s cracking. I’m wearing her down and I’ll win her heart one way or another. I wait for her to head for the breakroom to make coffee. Her routine is so predictable. She’s a creature of habit and I’m not above using any intelligence I’ve gathered over time to my advantage.

  The second I spot those peep-toe heels turn the corner, I grab her hand and pull her into the closet. Our closet. The place where it all began.

  “What the hell are you doing?” She snarls at me and fuck if I don’t love the fire in her eyes.

  I move in front of the door and lock it before she barrels her way past me.

  “You do know what the word ‘no’ means, don’t you?”

  “Sure, but we both know it’s not a real ‘no.’ Is it?” I smirk at the way her chest heaves with each breath she takes.

  “This is kidnapping. I could scream.”

  I shrug. “You could, but you won’t.”

  “I really hate you sometimes.” Her green eyes blaze a hole in my chest.