Sweet Distraction: Stag Brothers Book 1

by Lainey Davis

  I'm so lost in my plans I don't notice Tim Stag watching me. When I look up, realizing I've been singing out loud, his intense expression freezes me in my tracks.

  Three

  TIM

  "S orry if I frightened you," I say, realizing she looks alarmed. "I shouldn't have stood here staring. I just…everything smells so good."

  Her face lights up behind the mountain of mixing bowls. "These muffins are for tomorrow morning," she says. "I'm just about to slide in the last batch."

  Since I saw her last, she's tamed her curls back into a tight braid and tied the pink scarf around her head. Despite having made a lunch my associates won't stop talking about and what looks to be several hundred muffins, she still looks pristine in her white coat. And too fucking modest. Her pink tongue slips out as she hoists a pan into the oven, and I long to taste it, to lose my fingers in that nest of blond curls. Shaking my head, I realize that coat might not be modest enough. I have to pull myself together and remember that this woman is now my employee. She distracts me, and I don't like that.

  I might need to go out and find someone looking for a quick release. How long has it been since I've been with a woman? I try to run the calculations, but Alice walks around the table with a muffin. "Here," she says, her face eager. "Taste!"

  I raise an eyebrow, but accept the muffin from her and venture a bite. What hits my mouth is the most delicious flavor combination I think I've ever experienced. The muffin is moist and citrusy, but somehow light and hearty all at once. And there's an aftertaste I can't put my finger on. Alice must see me struggling to identify the flavor, because she begins talking in that carefree, delighted voice.

  "They're lemon lavender," she tells me, "but I added flax for protein and used sour cream for texture. I also did a banana muffin with whole wheat and…oh. Am I rambling? I tend to get excited. I've been tweaking these recipes for awhile now. I am going to do some smoothies for the morning, too!"

  A timer begins to beep and she bends to pull another tray of muffins from the oven. I stare, open-mouthed, at her perfect ass. It's round and tight, and I’m pretty sure each cheek would fill one of my hands. I swallow the rest of the muffin, trying not to think about slapping her backside as I pound into her from behind, right here in the break room. "Alice, they're delicious," I manage to say.

  She moves quickly and expertly, wrapping the food in plastic and making piles to wash up at the sink. "I'm already glad we brought you on board. Donna got you everything you need, I presume?"

  She laughs then, a hearty sound that explodes out of her. "Presume," she says in a mock-low voice, then claps her hand over her mouth. I feel the side of my face pull up in a grin. She's making fun of me. How long has it been since anyone other than my brothers has made fun of me? "Fuck," she says. "I'm so sorry. Shit, now I said fuck at work."

  "Welcome aboard," I say, laughing quietly. "I always appreciate it when someone calls me out on my bullshit." She still looks horrified, so I try to reassure her I'm not upset. "I've spent my whole career in litigation or talking with judges. I guess I do sound a little pompous sometimes. It's hard to turn that off."

  Alice is easy to talk to, and I make note of that. She's someone who might cause me to let my guard down, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that I can never, ever stop being vigilant. "Well anyway," she says, "Donna's been great and I have a contractor coming tomorrow to give an estimate on the renovation. I hope you don't mind that I called my father's company for that. He's very well known for commercial construction throughout Pittsburgh."

  "I don't see why that would be a problem," I say. "You've already impressed me with what you accomplished in one day, and I presume he taught you your work ethic. I trust your judgment." My personal cell begins to ring and a glance tells me it's my brother calling. "Excuse me," I say to Alice. "I have to take this. Thank you for your efforts today." I hurry into the hall to take the call as I walk back to my office. "Ty. What's up?"

  "What, did I interrupt you with a woman, asshole? You sound so flustered."

  "Nice to hear from you, too, little brother."

  He busts my balls for awhile before he reminds me that tonight is his welcome home dinner. My kid brother is a professional hockey player. He's been playing in Vancouver for the past few years, and then got sent to marinate in the minors. He was traded to the Pittsburgh Fury this year. Of course he hired my firm to handle his contract. It took some finesse to get him called back up from the minor leagues in time for playoffs, because my brother has a bit of a temper on the ice. We're all thrilled to have him back home where he belongs.

  I'm the oldest of 3 brothers, and we're all about 18 months apart, so we've always been tight. When our mom died, we had to stick together. Our father never recovered from the shock of losing her, so it's really been the 3 of us Stag brothers. Having Ty so far away for 3 years has made everything feel off-kilter.

  "Listen, dick wad, Gran says I'm supposed to tell you to be on time. I'm a client AND family, so that makes me double important now. She's got drinks starting at 6:30."

  "Yeah, yeah, I got it." I look at my watch. "I've got to finish up some paperwork and I'll head over. You still staying with her until you find a place?"

  "Fuck yeah I'm staying with Gran. She treats me like a god. Plus then I'm not tempted to bring home any puck bunnies." Ty proceeds to describe his most recent evening with some fan he met in a club, and I have to tune him out before his play-by-play leads me toward inappropriate thoughts about Alice.

  I hang up with my brother and open my laptop. I love it here at the office when nobody else is around. No distractions. Just me and my files. I start reading through the case briefing for one of our athletes who is entering contract negotiations, but even with nobody here to call me with questions, I still can't concentrate. My mind keeps slipping back to Alice Peterson and her violet eyes. And her perfect ass in those awful pants.

  After 20 minutes or so, I realize it's a lost cause trying to get anything done today. The thought of Alice stirring that muffin batter keeps taking over my thoughts. I decide that maybe if I rub one out, it'll clear my head, and so I lock my office door and sit on my leather couch.

  I close my eyes and it takes less than a second before I'm rock hard, imagining her full lips and that sweet tongue latching on to my cock as if it's one of her delicious confections. I begin to stroke my rod, picturing her firm grip on my base as those blond curls bob up and down. Faster than I would have thought, I feel my balls tighten and I cum, spraying forcefully onto my chest. A groan escapes my lips and I feel myself spurt again and again until I'm breathless.

  "Fuck," I mutter, seeing that I've spoiled my tie. I didn't even have time to grab the tissues. I'm like a teenage boy ripping open my pants to beat off at work. What the hell has happened to my self control? I rip the tie from my neck and open my bottom drawer where I keep my backup wardrobe. I never risk having to appear before a judge, or even a client for that matter, looking less than my best.

  Using the mirror in the corner of my office, I slip on the clean tie and straighten my hair. I text my car service and exhale, walking toward the elevator. As I pass the break room, I see Alice has set everything up for breakfast tomorrow, and I smile. She’s good at what she does. The entire car ride to my grandmother's house, I'm distracted by thoughts of my new corporate chef, her curls, and her curves.

  I decide to ask my brother Thatcher to introduce me to someone. I'm too wound up lately. He knows tons of artsy women. I'm sure he can find me someone discrete, looking for what I am seeking, too: dinner and a fast fuck, back to the office by 6am. Yes, I nod. That's exactly what I need.

  Four

  ALICE

  I parallel park my tiny Honda Civic in the space in front of our house, leaving the driveway for my sister Amy's minivan. These days, it's pretty unusual for adult children to stay living with their parents like this, but the Peterson family loves being together. The four of us kids have stuck together even more since Mom died.


  My Dad still owns the giant house where we grew up. He converted the third floor into an apartment when my sister got married and told them to stay until they got their feet under them. They've got a separate entrance and everything. She and her husband have pretty good jobs--she's a nurse and he's a teacher like our mother was--but it's hard to let go of having family so close.

  I spend a lot of time watching her kids while she's at work. Between me and my brother Dan, my sister never has to use daycare. I guess that's going to change now that I've landed myself such a cool job. I pull my arms to my chest and hug myself, reminding myself that this is all real and not some fantasy I dreamed up.

  I grab the bags of groceries from the back and pick up the growlers of beer. I practically dance inside and shout to Dan that I'm home and I'm making wings.

  "Sweet! That must mean you got the gig, hey sis?" Dan is a year older than me, but he still lives with Dad, too. He sells commercial appliances, and he really knows his stuff. As I cook, I fill him in on the renovation and assure him I'll be placing an order as soon as Dad gets the bid sent over. Between our dad working in construction, my brother Ryan working as a mechanic, and my sister working as a nurse, there isn't much we need to look for outside our immediate family. Dad's brother's an electrician, and one of his sons is a plumber, so we've got our bases covered. My family all looks out for each other, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

  Amy comes floating in the door with my nephews. She pecks my cheek as she pours a glass of beer. She takes a sip and her eyes go wide. "This is really good, Al. What is this?"

  "Undead Unicorn," I tell her. "It'll go great with the wings if you can wait ten minutes and not drink it all." I flick her with a dishtowel I've got slung over my shoulder and tell my siblings about my new job. "I have complete independence over all of it," I gush. "Whatever I want to cook. I'm my own boss. Sort of. I mean I guess Mr. Stag is my boss-boss, but he told me to do what I think is best."

  "Mr. Stag?" My brother teases me, but my sister raises an eyebrow.

  "Which Stag?" she asks. "We went to high school with them."

  I shake my head. "I never went to school with anyone named Stag. I'd remember them, trust me. But my boss is Tim."

  She sighs. "Ah, Tim Stag. Do you know his full name is Timber?"

  She runs for the bookshelves in the living room where my dad has kept every book we've ever owned. She slides out her old yearbook. Amy is the oldest, so I guess that would put her around my boss's age. "Here," she says, sliding the book across the counter.

  There he is glaring up from the page, looking as intense then as he did today. Dark hair, unreadable grey eyes. Chiseled jaw line. "That's him," I say.

  "Timber Stag," my brother chimes in. "Who names their kid Timber?"

  Amy flips the pages and we find Thatcher Stag in my brother Ryan's year. "I swear there was another one," she says. "Maybe he went to a magnet school or something? Anyway, spill it, Al. Does he still look this good?"

  I nod and tell her about wanting to jump his bones in the kitchen. "Gross, Alice. Come on!" my brother feigns disgust and leaves the room with his beer, but Amy leans across the counter while I finish making dinner.

  "And Aim, he smells ah-maze-ing. Not that I spent all day sniffing him, but I caught a whiff. And it was nice."

  She nods, looking dreamily at the picture. "He was always sort of standoffish in school. Super serious. I remember him just always being…intense."

  "He'd have to be, to build such a successful law practice at his age. Everyone at the office is super driven." I start to tell her about meeting the staff at lunch. "Oh! The third brother is Ty. He plays hockey. My new friend Juniper is going to be his attorney. She was telling me how she was excited that Tim assigned her to be his brother's new lawyer."

  My sister laughs when I tell her Juniper suggested I try crew. She pulls out her phone and looks up the rowing team here in Pittsburgh. "Look how fit everyone is," Amy says. "Maybe you should sign up to make them lunch after their workout."

  "Very funny, Aim. I'll have you know I keep in shape chasing your sons around." I pause then, remembering that I'm not going to be able to watch them during the day anymore. "Speaking of, we're going to have to talk about my schedule." I start to carry the platters of food to the table as the back door opens and my dad walks in to the kitchen.

  "There's my pumpkin patch," says Dad as my nephews swarm around his legs. He plants a kiss on each of us. Amy texts her husband, Doug, to come down for dinner. The seven of us dig in and I smile, thinking how fortunate I am.

  Dad and I talk about the renovation and how something like that should only take a few weeks if he lights the right fire under his crew. "Which I will, Pumpkin, don't you worry about that." He tells me that as soon as he can get permits in place, he can get started. "If budget really is no issue, that is," he winks.

  My brother and my nephews begin bickering about the newest Ninjago movie and I just feel so content looking around at my family. Our lives are so different now than they might have been if my mother hadn't gotten sick. But even as she was dying, she always told us we needed to stick together, to help each other.

  I'm reminded again how I'm leaving my sister high and dry for childcare. I hadn't been expecting the job to begin right away, and I know it's not so easy to just find two daycare spaces with no notice. "Hey Aim," I say, whispering across the table. "What will you do with Ethan and Eli? Mr. Stag was pretty serious about me starting right away."

  She furrows her brow. "Well, I don't work again until Friday. That gives me a few days to make calls. Honestly, Al, I don't want you to worry about it. I knew you'd be job hunting when you finished school. I really should have had a plan in place by now." Her husband, Doug, starts helping us brainstorm stopgap childcare options until they can find a place for the boys. They wonder aloud if he should cancel his commitment to teach summer school, but Amy shakes her head.

  "Really, it's only for a few more months," she says. "Ethan starts kindergarten in the fall. God, I can't believe he's going to school already."

  As they all start to reminisce about my precocious older nephew, my mind slips back to my new job and all the recipes I want to put in place. If I really work hard this week, I'm pretty sure I can get to where I'll be mostly in my office on Friday except for serving and cleaning up lunch. "Hey, Aim, I bet I can bring the boys with me on Friday," I tell her. "I'll just be doing admin stuff by then and they can play in my office when I'm serving lunch."

  She looks at me with a severe sort of scowl.

  "What?" I say. "They were desperate to have me there. I'll just let someone know I might have the boys this one time."

  She frowns, and says, "I somehow can't see Tim Stag feeling excited about a pair of rambunctious boys running around his law firm, Alice. How about we save that for a last resort."

  Nodding, I start to clean up, thoughts of meals for the staff racing through my mind.

  Five

  TIM

  T he rest of the week proves just as distracting as Monday, and it sets me into a foul mood. I'd subjected myself to my brothers' merciless taunting when I asked Thatcher to set me up with someone this week, and after all of that, he still hasn't found anyone. I'm starting to think I'm going to rub my dick raw trying to find release every morning in the shower, since I'm waking up hard as steel after dreaming about her each night.

  I've never met a woman who leaves me so beside myself. I'm not sure what it is about her, especially since I've been deliberate about keeping my distance. She's wild and fearless, joyful and light. I've always craved order and predictability. I operate from a place of reason. I interpret the law very rigidly, and I bring my clients a lot of satisfaction. When I date, it's always for a very specific reason. And I don't bother very often.

  I maintain my family's finances, manage their real estate deals, even track their preventative healthcare for them so nothing is in disarray. That is how I keep everyone safe. Except my father, but I learn
ed long ago that you can't help someone determined to destroy himself.

  Rifling through a folder on my desk, I can't seem to find what I'm looking for and I buzz Donna. I shout her name and realize, again, I need to get a grip on my tone. "What can I do for you, Mr. Stag?"

  I take a deep breath. "Donna, I can't find the briefing on the Jergensmater case."

  "All the briefs for this week's priority cases are in the red folder on your desk, Mr. Stag. I compiled everything that needed your immediate attention."

  Of course she's right. Everything I need for this case is right in front of me, along with the notes for our other contract negotiations, an injury dispute, and leads on new business that some of my top associates have brought in. "Donna, I'm not sure what I'd do without you," I tell her.

  "That's what I'm here for, sir! Would you like me to schedule you for a massage next week? You seem a little worked up." I thank her and tell her to go for it as I make a mental note to give her a raise.

  I scan the files I need, but I feel restless. I look at the clock and realize I haven't eaten anything today. Shit. It's eleven. If I go to the break room now, Alice Peterson will be prepping for the lunch rush and I'll have to avoid inhaling her scent as I walk close to her to take some of the food that's destined to be the best thing I've ever eaten.

  I weigh the effects of asking Donna to grab me something and feel guilty at the thought of interrupting her work because I'm worried I can't control my dick near the new chef. I pull out my phone and text my brother. No leads for me for tonight I guess?