Cocky Suits Chicago: Books 1-3

by Alex Wolf

  “His extracurriculars don’t align with our image.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  Decker straightens up and adjusts his tie. “He’s into some weird shit. Underground sex clubs. BDSM-type stuff. He has a reputation for being a sexual deviant.”

  “Deviant.” I laugh and shrug. “Check out Father Collins over here. Who the fuck cares? I give a shit about the commas on his net worth. So what if he likes his dick poked with toothpicks or clamped off with clothespins, whatever the fuck they do in those places. It’s none of our business. He wouldn’t be the first or last client we have that’s into that kind of thing. Hell, I bet half our roster does shit that’d make your head spin. We’ve never cared before.”

  Decker takes a step toward me. “Look, just do yourself and the firm a favor and don’t be seen going to those clubs with the guy. The last thing we need is a PR nightmare, especially after just merging with Dallas. You know how the media gets with Deacon and me when they smell a scandal.”

  Going to a sex club with Covington is at the bottom of my to-do list, so whatever, if it gets me out of this room faster. “Won’t be a problem. Is there anything else?”

  “You ask Abigail out?” Tate still hasn’t looked up from her files. It’s obvious she’s as tired of Decker railing on about Covington’s secret sex life as I am, and I’m pretty sure she asked the question just to give him shit, because he tries to ignore anything beyond business that happens between these walls.

  Decker’s hands go straight to his temples like he has a migraine coming on. “Please tell me you didn’t. I’d almost rather you be seen with Covington at a sex club.” His hands fall and he glares lasers back and forth at Tate and me.

  I can’t help but snicker at how uncomfortable he is, and Tate looks like she’s biting back a laugh as well.

  He shakes his head at both of us. “Are we a law firm or a fucking dating agency? Maybe I’ll have the sign out front changed. Tell Weston we’re switching our focus from law to helping singles find their special someone. Fuck.”

  Well, he’s in a mood today. Better pile it on in retaliation for him giving me shit about Covington. “So, let me get this straight, so I have all the facts… It’s okay for you and Deacon to fuck whoever you want at the office but the minute I take an interest in Abigail it’s not a good idea?” I turn to Tate. “No offense.”

  She still hasn’t looked up. I swear to God, she has ridiculous multitasking skills. She’s probably reviewed an entire contract while carrying on this conversation. “None taken. I think Decker’s rule is idiotic. As long as it doesn’t affect your work, I don’t give a shit, personally.”

  “It’s company policy,” Decker groans. “Rules are in place for a reason. What if she decides to sue us for sexual harassment?”

  “You’re being unrealistic as hell. You put a bunch of people in a building and have them working together all the time, they’re gonna wanna fuck, okay? That’s the natural order of things.”

  Decker shakes his head. “Your intuition is pure fucking Shakespeare, you know that?”

  I bite back a laugh. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “You would.”

  I swear Tate just giggled. I didn’t know she was capable.

  “Look, Cole hooked me up with some tickets to the fight tomorrow. I’m taking Abigail to dinner then to the fight.”

  “Fine, whatever. Just don’t tell me about it.” Decker turns his back. “I don’t want to know. It helps me sleep at night.”

  Tate gives me a thumbs up where Decker can’t see her. That’s a good thing. I thought Tate might warn Abigail off from dating me. Being nice to her has its perks it seems.

  “Then we’re hitting up the Sex Dungeon afterward for a little bondage and fire play…”

  He points to the door without looking. “Just get the fuck out.”

  Tate’s about to die.

  I can’t stop snickering as I head toward the door.

  “I swear to Christ, between this place and Jenny’s teenage hormones, I’m not going to make it to forty.”

  “I think you’ll make it, you’re not too far away.”

  He spins around, his face heats up. “You about done?”

  I hold both hands up. “I’m done, I swear.”

  “Good.”

  “Might be time to update the will, though. Good to take precautions. Be sure to list me as…”

  His face tenses. “Just go.” He fights back a laugh and points to the door. “I might be pushing forty, but I’m the big brother and I’ll kick the piss out of all of you, including Deacon’s fat ass.”

  I grin and walk out, tossing Tate a fist bump along the way. I’m glad her and I have been getting along better. It just took some time. Giving Decker shit has brought us closer together, and I think it was just the merger and all the emotions that came along with that. We all got started on the wrong foot, but one thing is certain, she’s perfect for my big brother. Believe it or not, he has mellowed out a ton since they got together.

  After work, I head straight to the gym. I may not be a world-class athlete like Decker and Deacon, but I like to keep myself in shape. I was good at sports, but they never interested me much, so I quit by the time I was in middle school. I tried it out, but at the end told my dad I didn’t like it. He never took me back to another practice.

  “You always finish something when you start it. Honor your commitments and give it a fair chance. But after that, if you don’t like it, don’t do it. Life’s too short to do things you don’t enjoy.” He told me that when I was ten, and it just stuck with me.

  Deacon and I have always been super close, because of the twin thing, but it’s weird. We both kind of do our own things to separate us from always being lumped together. At least I think so. He’ll always be my best friend, but I’m my own person.

  Deacon was into sports and always looked up to Decker. I was into comic books and stories and art and shit. I’m a daydreamer. I like to get caught up in my imagination, have since I was a kid.

  When I walk in, there are a few gym bunnies hanging around the front, but I ignore them. Normally, I might sit back and enjoy the view for a bit, maybe even strike up a conversation, but I have no inclination to do that today.

  I haven’t for a while, actually. Now that I think about it. Ever since…

  Abigail.

  Ever since she transferred to the firm, I haven’t looked at other women the same way. I never even noticed until recently. She might not realize she’s mine yet, but she will.

  After my workout, I grab a quick shower and head over to pick up Jenny, my niece. I promised her I’d take her and her friends to some trampoline place. They’re almost old enough to drive, and almost old enough to start drinking and doing all kinds of shit that really would send Decker to an early grave. They might even already be doing it. If they want to go to a trampoline place, I’m all about it. I miss her being younger; it’s difficult watching her innocence fade. I can’t imagine what that’s like for Decker. Maybe it’s why he’s so stressed out.

  When Decker became a single dad, us other brothers made it our mission to give him at least one Friday night a month to himself.

  It’s a tradition that stuck. I love it. She’s a good kid. When she was younger, I’d feed her a bunch of junk then drop her back at home.

  He’d get mad as fuck, but hey, that’s what uncles do. They spoil the shit out of their niece. I’m not trying to be her parent. I’m a goddamn funcle, and we have fun when we hang out.

  Parents have to be responsible, not me.

  He always says he’s going to pay me back, but the joke’s on him. I don’t plan on having kids. Being Uncle Dex is fine by me.

  I park my car on the street for a minute so I can wait for Decker to back his piece-of-shit SUV out of the garage. Decker traded in his Audi after Tate moved in, and they got matching vehicles. I’ll be damned if I park my baby out on the road all night. It needs to go in his garage.

&n
bsp; Yes, I’m that douche who treats his car like it’s his child. Blow me.

  It’s a 1970 Chevelle SS and it’s a goddamn work of art. I restored it all myself and there’s no way I could fit a bunch of teenagers in it, nor would I want to.

  “Uncle Dex!” Jenny rushes down the driveway. Her arms wrap around me as she barrels into my chest.

  “Hey, kid. You all set to go?”

  “Almost. Beth’s on her way.” She looks at my car. “You have to let me take that to prom in a few years. Please!”

  I waggle my eyebrows at her. “Yeah, right. Tell your dad to buy you one. He makes all the money.”

  “Pfffft. He’s already talking about how I need to get a job and pay for my own car.”

  “Not a bad idea.”

  “Hey!” She punches me in the arm.

  I pretend like it hurt and rub it for a second. “Ow. What was that for?”

  “You’re supposed to always take my side…” She pauses. “I mean, if you want to be the coolest uncle and all that. There’s a lot of competition for that title.”

  I point a finger at her and laugh. “You’re a little shit, you know that? You’re more like your dad than you think.”

  We both laugh and walk back up the driveway. I give my car a little glance over my shoulder and tell her with my thoughts that she’ll be okay out there until I can get her in the garage.

  “Dad ordered pizza for us if you’re hungry.”

  I follow Jenny into the house.

  There are three other giddy teenage girls seated at the kitchen counter scarfing down pizza and chugging soda. I can already feel the headache coming on, but traditions are traditions.

  “You sure you’re up for this?” Tate grins as I walk up.

  “I can handle them. Though, I will admit it was easier when they were eight. They’d get hopped up on sugar and crash. They never shut the fuck up once they’re teenagers.”

  Tate laughs. “Well, if you need backup don’t call. Decker’s taking me to the movies.”

  “I’ll call their asses an Uber if they don’t act right, or stick them on the train.”

  “Jesus.” Tate shakes her head. “I can never tell when you and Deacon are joking. So, when’s the big date with Abigail?”

  “Who’s Abigail?” Jenny cuts in. “Uncle Dex, you have a girlfriend? When can I meet her? Is she pretty? What’s she look like?”

  There is entirely too much estrogen in my presence. “Easy, killer. I’m sure I have all night to tell you about her.”

  “Cool.”

  Decker walks in from the garage. “What’s cool?”

  “Uncle Dex has a hot date tomorrow night with Abigail.”

  Decker glares. “I know.” He shakes his head like he’s trying to rid his brain of the thought. “The truck’s ready to go. You need anything?”

  I shake my head right back at him and grin my ass off. “How many times do I have to tell you that’s not a truck. It’s barely an SUV and might as well be a soccer mom van.”

  His jaw ticks a little, like he’s trying to bite back whatever sarcastic remark he’s thinking of, because he knows it’ll give Jenny a reason to sass his ass twenty-four seven. He finally just shoves Tate’s keys into my chest. “Don’t call for anything.” Then he whispers, “And stay away for a while.”

  I pat him on the back and toss him a wink. “Don’t worry, bro. I got you. Probably been a while. You need to clean the ol’ pipes out. I’m sure they’re rusty.”

  “Jesus Christ.” He grabs Tate by the arm. “Time to go.”

  “For real, we’ll be fine. Going to the trampoline place then maybe hit up the arcade and ice cream. It’ll wear them out.”

  “Perfect. Thanks. I mean it.”

  “Yes, thank you,” says Tate.

  “No worries.”

  “Beth!” the girls all squeal when their other friend arrives.

  Fuck, this is going to be a long night.

  Abigail

  My stomach flutters. I’m anxious and excited.

  “I mean look at Kyle and me. We hang out all the time and it’s never been awkward. He’s a good friend…”

  Barbie rolls her eyes from the chair next to mine as the stylist goes all scissor crazy on her hair.

  I brought her with me to the salon, despite her being so damn rude, because I felt bad she was moping around about Chuck nonstop. It was probably a mistake, but she looked so damn happy when I asked if she wanted to come.

  I mean, who can’t be in a good mood after a nice cut and color?

  She glances over. “Because you put him in the friend zone. Trust me, he’s sitting there biding his time, just waiting for an opportunity.”

  What? Why does everyone think Kyle wants to be more than friends? That’s insane. He’s never once acted interested in me in that way. “Kyle? No way.”

  I swear if someone wasn’t cutting her hair, her nose would go straight up to the ceiling. “Bury your head in the sand all you want. Just wait until he finds out you’re dating the hot lawyer. He’s going to turn into a different person. He hangs out with you because you’re single. Chuck and I talked about it all the time. We were betting how long it’d be before you got drunk and he made his move.”

  “What?” I’m already regretting inviting her here. I’m only entertaining this conversation to keep her mind off the breakup, and because I don’t want to hear her cry again. I can’t imagine myself ever crying as much as she has, but I’ve never been through a bad breakup. I’ve never really had a serious relationship. I dated one guy for a few months in high school, but we broke up when he went off to college my junior year. He’s married with two kids, and I’m happy for him. In college I dated a bit but never anything hot and heavy. I’ve definitely never been with anyone I could see spending the rest of my life with. The thought of it sends a shudder through me.

  I mean, over half of marriages fail. Why would I ever want to roll those dice? I’ve seen couples I thought would last forever turn a one-eighty and hate each other after a year.

  Maybe that’s why I’m so damn nervous about this date with Dex. I’ve never felt this way about someone else, but I know it’s just physical attraction. We don’t even really know each other all that well, and I won’t just be handing my heart to someone with nice eyes and a little ink snaking down out of their suit.

  What if we turn into more? I don’t want to end up all sad and pathetic like Barbie.

  My usual hair lady moves me back under the dryer for my lowlights while Barbie gets her color done.

  She’s going darker and I think it’s a smart choice. It fits her personality better, makes her seem more adult and serious, which is perfect for her.

  While I’m under the dryer, my thoughts return to Dex. There’s nothing worse than a date filled with awkward silence. What if we have nothing to talk about? What if I bore him? I’m young, in my early twenties, and he’s a decade older than me and has an important job. How could we possibly relate to each other? For some reason, the thought of us not clicking, once we get to know each other, turns my stomach.

  Once Barbie and I finish, I rush home to get ready. Thankfully, I shaved my legs this morning when I took a shower. Barbie’s going out with some work friends to drink her heartache away, and I’m happy to dump her problems off on them. I did my good deed for the day with minimal confrontation. Score.

  With any luck she’ll crash somewhere else if things go well with Dex.

  Unless he invites me back to his place. Wow, what if he does invite me back? What if he wants more?

  Should I take a toothbrush? I don’t think we’ll have sex, but you never know.

  Would I have sex with him tonight?

  My brain screams no, but my body screams yes. Damn, he has me all worked up again and he’s not even here.

  Right as I slip on my jean jacket, the doorbell rings.

  Shit.

  He’s here.

  I suck in a deep breath, pop a piece of gum in my mouth, and open the door.
>
  Mother of God.

  He’s dressed casual, and I swear it’s even hotter than him in a damn suit. He has on dark jeans and a graphic stretch tee that hugs his biceps and shows off even more of his ink than I usually get a peek at.

  His gaze rakes up and down, taking me in. His eyes travel from my peep toe, leopard-print heels, up the legs of my tattered dark jeans, to the bare midriff where my black halter begins. It has sexy straps that cross over my back. There was no wearing a bra with this thing. It’s like a black silky hanky that leaves little to the imagination.

  My hair is blown out in soft waves that curve around my shoulders. I’ve got the vintage Pam Anderson look going on, perfect for an MMA fight.

  “Wow, you look… incredible.”

  Don’t blush. Don’t blush. Why does he make me want to smile like an idiot?

  Pretty sure I blush. “Thanks, you look… great too.”

  Stop being awkward.

  “You have a bigger jacket?”

  What the hell? “Uh, no.”

  He smirks. “It’s gonna get cold.”

  I shrug and it’s hard to focus on the words with how hot he looks. “I’ll be okay, promise.”

  He shakes his head, then smiles at me. “Texas girls,” he mumbles.

  He looks different without his suit on. I’ve only seen him without one a few times. His demeanor is different outside of work, like he lets his guard down and doesn’t have to be so serious around me.

  As I walk out, the smell of his cologne hits me and makes me want to jerk him through the doorway and climb his ass like a damn tree. I manage to keep my hormones in check and grab my clutch.

  “Come on. I know a great place to eat.”

  I manage not to tell him he can have me for dinner and dessert if he wants. “Sounds perfect. I’m starving.”

  He smirks. It’s the sexiest of all smirks. “Good. Was afraid you’d be one of those girls who orders a salad then shuffles it around on her plate.” He grins and puts a hand to my lower back and guides me to the elevator.

  His hand. It shoots flames up my spine. This is going to be a long night, and I don’t mind one bit.