Cocky Suits Chicago: Books 1-3

by Alex Wolf

“Get your hormones in check, woman. I didn’t bring you in here to fuck.”

  Her eyes widen and then zero in on me. Her brows draw inward. “Do you even listen to the things you say? And why else would you pull me in here?”

  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel like an asshole because she thinks all I want is to put my dick inside her.

  The moment gets to me and I freeze up for a few seconds. This unfamiliar feeling gnaws at my stomach, like anxiety times a thousand, coupled with butterflies.

  “Well?” She shakes her head like she’s gathering her thoughts. “Why am I here?”

  You can do this, Deacon.

  “I have a question.”

  “Well, hurry. I’m running behind.”

  She’s not running behind. She’s always early for everything, but she has to stick to her routine, or it’ll ruin her day. Like I said, I know every damn thing about her.

  I suck in a breath. I don’t know why this is so goddamn hard, and why I’m suddenly acting like such a pussy. My palms grow clammy and I exhale a long breath.

  “Spit it out.”

  “I know you had a big test the other day and knowing you, I’m sure you killed it. I want to take you to dinner to celebrate.”

  Fuck, why was that so difficult?

  “You sound sincere. Did you just formally ask me out on a date? A real date? Like a sit down at a restaurant and talk kind of date?”

  “Look, I feel awful about the other night. I want to make it up to you. And I want to hear about your test and…” I fidget with my hands as I trail off and finally have the courage to look her in the eye. “Please?”

  Quinn smiles, like she’s enjoying this. “You’re pale. You look scared shitless.” She laughs like she’s one part nervous one part elated. “Have you ever asked anyone on a real date before? One where you want to spend time with someone and not because you just want to get laid at the end?”

  “No.”

  Her cheeks turn bright pink.

  “I mean not like the way I just asked you. All formal or whatever.” I shake my head at myself because I’m acting so ridiculous and flustered. “Fuck, I’ve never faced rejection before. This shit must be terrifying for normal guys. Doing this all the time.”

  She grins. “And he’s back.”

  I snicker for a moment, but then narrow my gaze on her. “Look, I don’t know how many more ways I can say this, for fuck’s sake, but I like you. I’ve been up front about that from the beginning, and doing this kind of shit isn’t easy for me, but I do it because I want you.” I step in close, so that we’re face to face, and trace her jaw with my finger. “What the hell do I need to do for you to see I mean every word? You think I’ve sent women flowers before? I don’t even send my mother flowers.”

  She glances away, and I swear I think I might see a tear forming at the corner of her eye. When she turns back, it’s gone. “I don’t…”

  “Stop fucking thinking. Tonight is happening.”

  Quinn

  I finally nod my head.

  Apparently, that appeases Deacon, because his mouth crashes into mine before I can utter a word. His kiss is different this time. It’s not needy and rushed. He doesn’t kiss me like he wants to consume me or turn me on. It’s gentle and sweet, and I still don’t know how to process any of this. He asked me out on an actual date. Not some, “Hey, let’s hang out later,” after he’s done fucking me. And he said it was the first time he’s ever asked someone out. I would normally think he was lying about the last part, but I could see the truth in his eyes.

  The way he’s kissing me is unexpected but nice. When his hand slides to my hip, I know my clothes are about to come off. My whole body warms under his touch and butterflies swarm my belly. I wait for him to strip me naked and shove me against the wall. Flip me around and spank me. Something.

  But, he doesn’t.

  He pulls away, unlocks the door, and starts to walk out.

  I glance back and forth, like someone might be coming. “Where the hell are you going?”

  He shrugs. “Back to work.”

  I feel like I’m in The Twilight Zone. “Well, we’re already in here and it’s pretty obvious this is a sure thing.” I stare at him like seriously, you’re passing up sex.

  His nostrils flare as he rakes his gaze up and down my body, and it looks like he’s debating with himself. Finally, he runs a hand through his hair and frowns. Did I say something wrong? What’s his deal?

  My pulse races when he storms toward me like a man on a mission. I’ve never been so confused in my life. Is he going to have his way with me or not?

  At the last second, he stops and bends down so we’re at eye level. “I won’t fuck you in this closet again. I want more, and you deserve better.” He brings my knuckles to his lips. “This is real. See you tonight.”

  I exhale a huge breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and can’t seem to find any words as he exits the closet. My body is on fire, my face flushed, and my eyes dart around the room.

  What the hell just happened in here?

  A small part of me saddens as I look around. If Deacon meant what he said, our exciting closet trysts are finished. I wait a few minutes and grab a stupid pen to cover my ass even though we didn’t do anything wrong this time.

  My heartbeat drums in my ear and my palms are slick with sweat. My body aches with need after not getting my usual release. I can still feel his intense eyes on me, like he’s here, somewhere, staring at me, and every word of what he said replays through my mind.

  Eventually, I let out a long exhale, and work up the courage to walk back into the office. The moment I turn the corner, Tate stands there waiting for me.

  Her eyes flash to the pen in my hand. “Roof deck. Let’s have a chat.”

  “Umm. Okay.” I follow her outside and take in the view of Lake Michigan, still gripping the pen in my palm.

  Tate smiles at me over her shoulder. “Get everything you needed back there?”

  “Hmm?” I could plead ignorance, but Tate is smart…too smart for me to lie.

  Fortunately, she moves on before I can answer. “You didn’t throw away the flowers today. Finally give in to the guy who can’t take no for an answer?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “You know, I like to think of us as friends. You can talk to me. I know I can be a bit brash. I have to be that way to handle all the egos in this place. I won’t run to Decker and throw you under the bus. Out here we’re just friends. I promise.”

  I decide to be honest. I don’t want to dig a hole for myself, and I have to get the words out before they consume me from within. Plus, if anyone can relate to dating one of the Collins brothers, it’s Tate. As soon as I open my mouth the floodgates open.

  For some reason, I can’t look at her while I speak. “The flowers are from Deacon.”

  Tate grins. “I know.”

  I hang my head in shame, unable to look at her. “How?”

  “Remember that time we went to brunch? You mentioned a freckle on his thumb. You only know something like that about someone if you’re, well, you know.”

  “I know he seems immature, but he just turned me down for sex and wants to take me on a date.”

  Tate let’s out a laugh that’s a partial gasp. “Did he now?”

  I nod.

  She mouths the word, “Wow,” and puts both hands on her hips. “Well, maybe there’s hope for that little shit stain after all. This could be good. Maybe you’ll turn him into a functioning adult.”

  I laugh. “I don’t know if that will ever happen, but maybe a slightly improved version of him.”

  “Truer words have never been spoken.”

  We both laugh for a second. It’s hard not to smile at Deacon’s boyish nature, even if it’s annoying a lot of the time.

  “Look, Quinn. All I ever cared about was my career and earning the respect of my peers. A relationship, let alone a marriage, was never really in the cards. But if I’ve learned one thing since
I came to Chicago, it’s that anything is possible.” She looks down at her diamond engagement ring. “Deacon would be lucky to have you. And as much as it pains me to say this, he’s right. You are worth so much more than a quickie in a closet. Make him earn you. All of you.”

  I glance out at the boats in the harbor, then on to the horizon of Lake Michigan. “I’m afraid to get my hopes up. In my experience, this usually plays out the exact opposite. The guy appears to be sweet and caring, but all his actions point the other way. With Deacon, he seems like a player. It’s how I perceive him. But all his actions point the other direction, when I really step back and look at them. He’s always been honest and up front. He tries to share intimate details with me. He pays attention to everything I enjoy, and not just when it comes to sex. He’s sent me flowers every week since the first time we hooked up. He confuses me so much.”

  “Well I do think he likes you.” She pauses for a second and glances around. “This stays between us.” She leans in close and lowers her tone. “I personally don’t think he’s a great attorney.” She straightens back up. “But, I do think he’s a good person.”

  I want to believe she’s right. I want to believe it so damn bad; the part about him being a good person and liking me.

  “Now, get back inside. We have work to do.”

  When I arrive at my desk I can’t focus on anything. All my thoughts keep going to Deacon and, if I’m being honest, what I’m going to wear tonight.

  I shoot a text to Heather.

  Quinn: Emergency. I need a new dress. Got a hot date.

  Heather: Done. Come by the store. I know just the one.

  I was so excited about Deacon I completely forgot to check my test score. I log into the student portal at the university and wiggle in my seat. When I see my score, I let out a squeal that earns me a few dirty looks from some of the employees passing by, but I don’t care.

  I aced it. Ninety-eight percent.

  The weirdest part of it all…the first urge I have after seeing my score is to run and tell Deacon.

  “I said a dress. Not a new wardrobe.” I shake my head at the rack Heather pulls out for me.

  “Shh. Who’s the hot date? This is sudden.”

  “It’s Deacon.” I purse my lips and wait for her response.

  “The asshole from work?” She hands me a black strappy dress. “This is the one.” She hurries me into the dressing room but waves her hand forward like continue.

  I close the door behind me and speak as I wiggle into the dress. “Yep. Same guy. I may have embellished on the asshole part.”

  “If you say so. I want details tomorrow over brunch.”

  “Deal. What happened with Stewart last night?”

  “Girl, I don’t know if you’re ready. I’m sure you want to gloat but keep that shit to yourself if you value my discount.”

  That doesn’t sound promising. “Oh no. What’d he do?”

  “So, the apartment he’s been taking me to isn’t even his. He was watching it for a friend who was out of town. He finally came clean and took me to his real place last night.”

  I have to fight back a laugh. Not at her predicament, but at the fact there’s no telling what’s coming next.

  “Oh, and the best part. I walked out of his room this morning and some older woman was standing there. She called me a whore and told me to put some clothes on. Yeah. It was his mom. He lives with her.”

  Wow. “Oh man, I’m sorry. Were you naked?”

  “Yes!”

  I step out of the changing room.

  Her entire demeanor changes and her face lights up. “Oh, yeah. That’s definitely the one.”

  I’m a little surprised she’s not more upset about the Stewart situation, but the way she bounces around relationships, I guess she’s just used to it. I do a little twirl in the mirror. “It’s not too much?” I tug on the bottom, pulling it farther down my thighs. I’m afraid my ass will fall out the back, but it does look fantastic.

  “Definitely the dress. I won’t allow you to say no.”

  “Fine. So, what happened after his mom saw you naked?”

  “The friend he was apartment sitting for was his ex-girlfriend.”

  “Shut up. You never noticed when you were there? How’d you find out?”

  “After I got dressed and headed for the door, the ex showed up with a pair of my panties…”

  “No. Way.” I cover my mouth and shake my head.

  “Yes. Way.” She hangs her head, pretending to look sad. “I’m cursed.”

  I pull her in for a hug. “Maybe you need to try dating outside your usual type.”

  “What’s my type?” She leans back.

  “Pretty boys who look rich but might live with their mother.”

  “You have a valid point.”

  “You need a working man. Rough hands. Good heart. Humble.”

  “Too bad your dad isn’t younger.” She grins.

  I smack her shoulder a little harder than intended. “You’re terrible.”

  Deacon

  Cold sweat beads across my forehead, and it hits me all at once. This shit with Quinn is real. She didn’t turn me down.

  I’ve never thought about my future with any woman, but it’s all I think about with her. Taking her out on a few dates is the first step but what about everything to follow? Can I live up to that? Am I capable of giving her everything she deserves?

  I gaze around my living room. It’s manly and awesome. I like things the way they are—toys and gadgets and all my football shit.

  What happens when she starts staying over and leaves stuff here?

  I’m sure it’ll start with a toothbrush or some clothes, maybe something to sleep in. She’ll slowly take over my house like a virus until it’s full of fruity candles and new curtains. Next thing I know she’ll be asking to move in together and leaving wedding magazines on the counter. You know? Dropping subliminal hints like females do.

  She’ll replace my stuff with cozy little flower arrangements and throw pillows. Will she expect a ring on her finger soon? Will she pack up all my shit and reduce everything I was to nothing but a few boxes in the garage?

  Will she start planning our family?

  Yeah, she’ll definitely do that. She’ll use an app to show me what our kids will look like. She’ll slowly erode my former life away piece by piece until I’m nothing but a shell of who I once was, floating around offshore, asking permission to buy season tickets to the Bears.

  Get out of your head. You’re freaking out for no reason.

  I shrug, but surprisingly, that nightmare train of thought coursing through my brain doesn’t bother me near as much as it should.

  Being single has been fun. I can’t lie about that. But I want Quinn. Besides, I’m sure we can take things slow. I know she says she’s okay with the way things are, but I need to step up my game. She deserves the world, and if I can’t give it to her, as hard as it would be, I need to let her move on.

  A knock on my door sends me into a complete panic. I glance at my watch. It’s nowhere near time to pick her up and I’m not expecting company.

  “Open up, asshole.” It’s Dex.

  I open the door. “The fuck you doing here?”

  He breezes past me to the fridge and helps himself to a beer. “Need to plan Decker’s bachelor party. I’m thinking big-titted strippers and booze.” He waggles his brows and twists the top off a Bud Light.

  It sounds like the exact opposite of what Decker would want, but he’s been acting like a dick, so it might be fun to watch his uncomfortable ass at a strip club.

  “I have plans tonight.”

  He scoffs. “Plans? What’s more important than embarrassing Decker for life?”

  I look away and his twin intuition reads me like a book.

  “Fucking hell. Remind me not to drink the water at the office. First Decker and now you?” Shaking his head, he takes a swig from the bottle. “Two little lovesick puppies.” He points a finger at my face.
“That’s never happening to me. I need a cornucopia of pussy at my disposal at all times. Who’s the lucky lady?”

  I swallow, wondering if I should tell him. In the end, I can’t keep it from him. He’s my twin brother. We don’t keep secrets.

  Quinn agreed to the date. Surely, she doesn’t mind if people find out since we’re going to make things official. “Quinn.”

  Dexter’s brows shoot up. “From the office?”

  I nod.

  “You okay? You look a little pale.”

  There’s something about the way he stares at me. A wave of uncertainty crashes into my chest. Am I fooling myself to think a relationship with Quinn is possible? Judging by Dexter’s face, he looks like I just suggested hell might freeze over.

  I try to play it off and shrug. “Maybe I should cancel. What’s up with the strippers?”

  He takes a step back. “Damn, son. You’re really twisted up inside.”

  It’s impossible to hide shit from him. I nod, because it’s true. I’ve never felt this way before.

  “Look, man. I was just giving you shit. Don’t cancel. Quinn’s the best. Look how she puts up with all the shit we give her at work.” He smirks, like everything makes more sense now. “You’ve been sending her those flowers and chocolates.”

  I nod again, waiting for him to call me a little bitch and rank my masculinity somewhere between 0 and 1.

  “That chocolate was good, by the way. I stole some of it when she wasn’t looking.” He grins. “If you like her, fucking go for it, man.” He takes a few steps toward the window and mumbles, “Quinn. Who woulda thought?”

  “That’s it? You’re not gonna give me shit about this?”

  “Oh, I will. Trust me. But I don’t want to get blamed if you fuck it up.” He grins. “Besides, you look like you’re about to have a breakdown. You need to relax and enjoy the moment if this is your first date.”

  I’m not sure how to take all this. He’s never acted this easygoing before. Something is up with him, but I realize he’s right, and my confidence kicks back up to appropriate levels. “Thanks for the advice. You’re a great American. Now stop drinking all my fucking beer and get out. I need to get ready and crush this like I do everything else in life. That means better than you.”