The Suit Read Free

God,” I groan and spin around, so embarrassed I leave my front door wide open as I run down the hall, giving the suit a great view of my ass. With great haste, I throw on the jeans that I wore last night, which lay crumpled on the floor smelling of horses and stale beer, and pull a sweatshirt from a hanger in my closet. When I head back to the front door, it’s closed and I discover the suit sitting at the end of my dining room table, his briefcase open in front of him as he sorts through some papers. He’s removed his jacket and it’s draped over the back of the chair he sits in. His sleeves are rolled up exposing his muscular forearms and the top two buttons at his collar are undone. He looks all GQ sitting in my dining room. The coffee he offered me when I first opened the door sits next to a giant croissant on a napkin in the space next to him.
    When he finally notices me, he stands. “Please, Edie, have a seat.” He gestures toward a chair and I scowl at him.
    “Thank you for offering me a seat at my own dining room table. What the heck are you doing? You just walked into my home uninvited.” I cross my arms and remain in the doorway. Good-looking or not, you don’t just roll up in someone else’s house.
    Casually, he slides both hands into the pockets of his pants. “You left the door open,” he reminds me. “I assumed you were telling me it was okay to enter.”
    “Well you assumed wrong. And you know what they say about people who assume?” I counter.
    His mouth curves to one side as he cuts me a quick sideways glance. “Sit. We have much to discuss.”
    Just as I open my mouth to put him in his place, the suit’s eyes go dark and his jaw tenses, his gaze seeming to pass right over me. When I spin around, I find Dierk standing behind me in nothing but a towel. Beads of water still sit on his tight skin and his shaggy hair drips droplets on his shoulders. I’m staring at him like an idiot. I’m not sure if it’s from shock or from the massive appreciation for his body. Seriously, it should be illegal for two men this good-looking to be so close to one woman at the same time.
    “Dierk,” his name comes out in a whispery breath. What the hell, Edie? You’ve known this guy all of your life, stop acting like one of his groupies.
    “Morning, beautiful,” he smiles and grazes his knuckles over my cheek. I am literally stunned i nto silence. What is happening? Dierk sidesteps around me and heads toward the suit who has apparently been staring at us. “I’m Dierk.” He extends a hand to the suit. The suit, John, looks at his hand as if he’s debating taking it or not. But after a moment he takes it and shakes Dierk’s hand. “John Wilson,” he says, but it doesn’t sound friendly.
    “Is there anything I can help you with?” Dierk asks, and my mouth flies open in shock. What the—
    “No. There isn’t,” the suit states simply. “My business is with Edie.”
    Turning back to me, Dierk cocks his head to one side. “You need me to stay, gorgeous?”
    Yep. I’m dreaming or having a nightmare. I’m not sure which. Someone roofied me last night. That’s it! I’m drugged. How else could the suit be here looking like sex on a stick and Dierk, the hottest guy in town, standing in nothing but a towel, with those damn drops of water all over him most girls would die to sop up with their tongues. This is a wet dream. I’m having the female equivalent of a wet dream.
    Okay, so I’m not dreaming. This is real. “I’m fine. Thanks, D.” I nod as I clear my throat.
    “I’ll get dressed then. Holler if you need me.” Dierk passes by me and his hand brushes mine as he exits.
    The suit clears his throat and sits back down. His demeanor seemed moderately friendly before, but now he seems like he doesn’t even want to look at me. “I’d like to get down to business if that’s okay, Ms. James. We haven’t got much time.” Ms. James? Has he called me that before?
    I take the seat next to him