Cade (A Wesley Brothers Novel Book 1) Read online

  I feel around my pockets, coming up empty. "Shit. I guess I left it in my car. You know, not everybody is as attached to their phone as you are, Sloan."

  My brother sighs, ignoring my jab. "I've been calling you for twenty minutes already. It's about the expansion."

  Now he has my full attention. "What's wrong? I thought everything was settled. All I had to do was sign the papers."

  "Yeah, about that," Sloan pauses, switching into business mode. "I was looking over some of the paperwork and there's a few things in it I decided didn't work anymore." Fuck, this is a delay I didn't need. But before I can say anything, Sloan continues. "Zimmer's attorney is flying here this weekend and we'll meet with her first thing Monday morning at my office. I don't want to drag this out any longer than necessary. You need to be there, so keep your mornings clear."

  It’s a good thing I'm working on the schedule. "Yeah, okay. I can do that. But everything else is fine, right?"

  "Yeah, no worries. I'll get it straightened out, brother. You know I've got your back. Hey, I need to run."

  "Thanks, man. Later."

  "Later." The line clicks dead and I put the receiver back on the phone. I rub my hands over my temples, messaging the headache starting to build there. I try not to worry about all that legal mumbo jumbo, though. It's what I pay him for.

  Well, technically I don't pay him. Sloan, my oldest brother, works for the family law firm. My father and grandfather are both attorneys too, and Gramps started building his firm long before my brothers and I came around. Having three generations of lawyers in the family has its benefits, of course. It saves me a shit ton in legal fees, not that I have many unless they’re related to the business. And my younger brother Asher invests the money I save to make it work for me.

  He's my finance guru. His financial consulting firm is just getting off the ground and though he's barely out of college, that fucker is damned good with numbers. If there's one thing he knows, it's money. Right now, his clients are mostly family, but he's too good for it to stay that way for long.

  Nikolas, the youngest of us Wesley boys, is one of the hottest hockey prospects in the nation and recently got drafted. Rather than join the league now though, he’s opted to finish college first before he signs his pro contract. Everyone told him he was crazy, but that’s the thing about Nik. He’s not in it for the money. He does it because he loves the game. Getting paid to do it is just icing on the cake, but he wants to make sure he has a college education to fall back on, should the unthinkable happen and he not be physically able to play hockey before he’s ready to retire. A smart decision if you ask me.

  He's been playing since he was four, which wasn't always easy to do when you live in one of the warmest areas in the States. He probably could have landed a hockey scholarship anywhere in the world, but somehow, he managed to stay within twenty miles of the family. I'm still not convinced my parents didn't pull some strings to keep him close to home. Mom wasn't too keen on the idea of losing her baby boy and I don't think Nikolas cared much, since he got to play. He still travels with his team throughout the season, so his freedom is intact.

  A few hours later, the schedules and payroll are finished, thanks to fewer interruptions. The lunch rush is well underway, so I make my way out front to ensure everything is running smoothly. This is the part of my job I love most—interacting with my customers, getting to know the people that help make my bar a success.

  And I see one of my favorite customers sitting at the bar right now. I walk up behind him, clapping my hands on his shoulders. "Hey, man. Why didn't you tell me you were stopping by?" I sit down on the empty bar stool next to him and he bumps my fist while he finishes chewing up his food.

  "I didn't know you'd be here." Asher takes a drink of his beer.

  I roll my eyes. "I'm always here." It's the truth, even if it makes me sound pathetic.

  Ash shakes his head at me. "Tsk, tsk. All work and no play makes Cade a dull, dull boy."

  "Oh, I'm sorry. We can't all have as much fun as you, party boy." I tease my little brother. "Some of us don't work nine to five jobs. We work twenty-four seven."

  Ash pops the last fry into his mouth and pushes the empty plate away from him. Becky is quick to grab it. "Can I get you anything else, Ash?"

  "Nah, I'm good. Just the check please, Becks." She gives me a quick glance and I shake my head. Family money is no good here.

  "Don't worry about it man. You're good."

  Ash smiles. "Thanks brother." He pulls his wallet from his pocket anyway and takes out cash, shoving it in Becky's tip jar with a wink that has my bartender blushing. He reaches for her hand, and she places it in his palm with no hesitation. I watch as he kisses the back of it. “Always a pleasure, Becks.”

  Then he turns his attention back to me. "And I'll have you know, until I get my business up and running, I do work twenty-four seven." He stands from his stool, and tosses back the rest of his beer. "I'll see ya around, sweetheart. Thanks for lunch."

  "Don't party too hard," I say to his retreating back.

  He turns, smiling at me. "Don't worry. I will." The fool winks at me, and he's out the door.

  Shaking my head, I make my rounds again. The rest of the patrons I speak to are happy—well fed and sufficiently liquored, even at this early hour—and service is moving at a fast pace. Before I know it, my shift has flown by in a blur. The place has slowed down considerably and all that's left now is to call the vendor to put in our liquor order. After that, I can call it a day, which sounds fucking fantastic because the beach is calling my name.

  Before I can lift the receiver to make the call, the phone rings. I pick it up and give my automatic greeting. “Cade’s Tavern. This is Cade.”

  "What's up brother? Didn't expect you to pick up the phone." Nikolas' voice filters through the receiver. It's not often I get to talk to my youngest brother, with hockey and school taking up most of his time lately.

  "Hey, somebody's gotta work around here. Fuck if I can depend on you to work any shifts." A smile tugs at my lips at giving my baby brother a hard time.

  "Ha, ha, you ass. That's why I'm calling you. I wanna pick up some shifts behind the bar this week if you have a place for me."

  His request makes me roll my eyes and scoff into the receiver. We've gone over this too many times. "You know I always have a place for you here. If you need a shift just let me know. I'll work you in, you know that. Just tell me when you wanna come in."

  He sighs into the phone. "I know, I know. Thanks man."

  Leaning back in my chair, I ask, "So, what's been going on with you?”

  “Not much, other than school and hockey. Keeping myself busy and staying out of trouble.”

  My head nods in automatic response, which seems silly because it’s not like Nik can see me. “Busy is a good thing, Nik. How’s Natalia doing?” I never can resist asking. Natalia is Nikolas’s best friend, and has been for years. Her parents are very close to ours, and since they’re the same age, Nik and Nat grew up together. They’re practically inseparable, and almost always mistaken for a couple, but are quick to dispel that notion as soon as possible. It’s a shame too. They’d be perfect together.

  “She’s good. Busy, just like me. I haven’t seen her much lately. She’s working on some photography project for her sports media class, and they have her alternating between hockey and basketball right now. Otherwise, we’re both doing well. Looking forward to time off here soon.”

  “Good, just don’t burn yourselves out before that. And hey, tell her I said hi, and that she’s welcome to come pick up some bartending shifts too when she needs the money.”

  “Will do. I’ll text you what times I’m available later today. I gotta get to class.”

  “Sounds good. Later.”

  “Bye.”

  I’m always in awe when I get to talk to Nikolas. He has himself put together well and has his priorities straight. I wish I could have been that focused when I was his age. I wasn’t a slacke
r or anything, but I don’t think I could have handled all the pressure that comes with trying to become a professional athlete. He seems to thrive on it.

  Picking up the phone again, I finally call the liquor vendor and place the order that will take us through the weekend. A few quick passes through the bar to make sure everything is ready for the dinner shift with Jason and I’m done for the day.

  Chapter Two

  Nora

  CB: I want my mouth between your legs right now…

  “Holy shit,” I mutter under my breath as I stare at my phone’s screen. I’d like that too, I think to myself.

  Me: That sounds wonderful…

  Okay, so that was the lamest response ever, but hey, I’m new to this sex chatting thing, or whatever you call it. Practice makes perfect, right? I’ve only been chatting with this guy for a few weeks now after meeting him on Hit Me Up, the latest must-have social media app. At least I was starting to loosen up a bit in my flirting. Seriously, what was I supposed to say? That I wouldn’t mind if he buried his head between my legs and licked my pussy for hours, then ravaged my body with his amazing cock so I couldn’t walk straight for the next two days? Shit, come to think of it, that’s exactly what I should have said. The ping of the incoming message snaps me back into the moment.

  CB: Damn baby, I’ve got to go. Can we pick this up another time?

  Ugh. Just as I was getting warmed up. Okay, who am I kidding? I wasn’t even close to getting this shit figured out. Oh well, it’s probably for the best. Maybe I’ll finally get up enough nerve to type what I’m really thinking next time. Why am I being such a wimp? It’s not like he can see me. It’s not like we’re sitting face to face or I’m whispering dirty words in his ear. This is the perfect way for me to let loose and explore the things I like sexually without the awkwardness of actually doing them. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I fully plan on doing them—and I do mean all of them—when I finally find a guy I want to do them with. Unfortunately, that seems to be the bigger challenge these days. Until then, there’s nothing wrong with a little cyber fun.

  Me: Sure, I’ll catch you later. I’m anxious to see what you plan on doing with that wicked tongue of yours…

  I smile to myself, full of pride. That was a much better response. See, I can do this. Maybe it won't be so hard to do after all.

  CB: Do me a favor Nora. Tonight, I want you to make yourself come, and I want you to think only of me and my wicked tongue. Deal?

  Fuck. Just when I thought I could handle the dirty talk. Hell, I can feel the blush creeping up my neck and cheeks. Pathetic.

  Me: I can’t imagine being able to think of anything else now…

  Even as I type it, I know it’s the absolute truth. His response is almost immediate.

  CB: Good girl…

  His little “available now” icon drops away, and I sit staring at the screen for a few seconds before finally closing out the chat application and plugging my phone in to charge. The heat and blush slowly fade from my cheeks as I make my way to the bedroom, stripping off my T-shirt and tossing it on the bed before I get to the bathroom. Turning on the shower to let the water warm up, I finish undressing and climb in, letting the hot water cascade over my body. I definitely needed a hot shower to release the tension that’s been building in my shoulders. The day seemed to drag by slowly, one thing after another keeping me on my toes. And now my all-too brief chat with CB left me with a whole other type of tension I’d have to deal with later.

  I finish my shower quickly, towel off, and blow dry my hair. I hate going to bed with it wet. I make my way back to the bedroom, throwing on my favorite pair of pajama bottoms and a T-shirt as I go, and noticed the message light blinking on my phone. Hoping like hell it’s my internet hottie wanting to finish our nightcap, I pick up the phone to check it. No such luck. It’s a message from my boss informing me she needs me in early for a meeting the next morning. Glancing at the clock and realizing it’s already after midnight, I climb into bed, clicking the lamp off, and settling under the blankets.

  I close my eyes, and my mind wanders to CB, the mystery man. I try to imagine what he might look like. We’ve never exchanged pictures—or first names, for that matter—and I prefer it that way. For all I know, he could be the complete opposite of what I like, and this way I can turn him into the perfect fantasy man for me—a man with eight-pack abdominal muscles and a heart of pure gold, who likes romantic walks on the beach, loves to cuddle, and can do all the sensual, sexy, sinful things to me I’ve longed to experience.

  My ultimate fantasy.

  The “too good to be true” man I have yet to cross paths with, and probably never will.

  The man that most likely doesn’t exist in real life.

  I might have thought this through a bit.

  Just the thought of what my fantasy man can do to me has me writhing in bed within minutes. Reaching into my nightstand, I retrieve my trusty vibrator, and slip it down into the front of my panties where I’m already slick with desire. True to my word, I’m going to do exactly what CB asked me to.

  ***

  “Miami?” I’m sitting in the black leather chair in front of my boss’s desk, a confused look on my face. “I thought those contract negotiations were already settled?” Samantha moves around behind me to the wet bar she keeps stocked in her office. I watch the elegant woman pour two mimosas, handing me one and holding on to the other as she leans against the edge of her desk, taking a hearty sip. Her short cropped blonde hair takes years off her appearance, though she couldn’t be more than fifty. One of the top attorneys at Maddox and Lockhardt, rumor has it she will make partner within the year. She’s a tough-as-nails boss, but I also have the privilege of calling her my friend.

  Samantha rolls her eyes. “Well, apparently they aren’t anymore. The client evidently decided he wasn’t happy about some things, and rather than hash this out over the next few months, his attorneys have asked me to come to Miami and get this settled immediately. The timing works out perfectly though, since I have some other business I can squeeze in while I’m there. That’s why I need to leave tomorrow even though we aren’t meeting with them until Monday, and I want you to come with me. You’re the best legal assistant I have and the most knowledgeable on this case, plus you’ll be able to handle things on your own if I’m otherwise engaged. It shouldn’t take more than a week—two tops—and I’m sure we’ll have some down time, so you’ll get a chance to explore the city. If you decide you want to go, of course. You’ve never been, right?”

  The mimosa I’m drinking gets lodged in my throat as I try—miserably I might add—to hide my excitement. “No, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t excited to go. What time do we leave tomorrow?”

  Samantha chuckles as she stands. “Thank heavens. I was afraid you’d say no. I’ll have my secretary email the specifics to you as soon as they’re ready. Oh, and you only need to worry about clothes and extra spending cash. The firm will pay for airfare, the hotel, and give us a daily allowance for food and transportation. Now go take the rest of the day off and get your affairs in order. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I down the rest of my drink as she ushers me out of her office. “Thank you, Samantha,” I say as I open the door to leave. “I really appreciate this.”

  “You’re welcome. Now go. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I smile all the way down the corridor to my office on the other side of the twentieth floor. I kick off my heels at the door. As Samantha’s top legal assistant, she gave me a small but functional office with my own view of downtown. It isn’t much, but it’s something to be proud of. Well, at least something I can be proud of. My parents have never been happy with my decision to move to Dallas. Or rather, they weren’t happy with the reason I moved. But I push those thoughts aside.

  Two years after stepping into the Dallas heat, I have a great job, a nice little apartment, and a bright future.

  And now I’m heading to Miami, a city most definitely on my trave
l bucket list. I spend most of the morning sending out emails and getting things settled for both the trip and my extended absence. An email from Samantha’s secretary not long after I left her office confirmed a shuttle would be by to take me to the airport by ten a.m. and our flight was leaving at 12:20 p.m., first class.

  After redistributing my small caseload to the other assistants, I gather the documents I’ll need onto my flash drive, fold up my laptop, and put them both into my bag. Closing my office door, I lock it behind me. Opting to forgo the stairs since I have too much to carry, I take the elevator down to the lobby and head to the parking garage. The stifling Texas heat greets me the minute I push the doors open and walk outside—I swear it’s like a fucking sauna in this state—and I make my way to the car. Thank God for covered parking. The Texas sunshine can be absolutely brutal.

  Stopping at the little deli on the ground floor of my apartment complex, I grab some early dinner takeout and head upstairs. I still have plenty of time to pack, clean up the apartment, and get rid of any food that might spoil while I’m gone. That’ll be the easiest task of all. I never really buy more than one or two days’ worth of food at a time and luckily for me I haven’t been to the market yet this week. I call down to the leasing office and arranged for the complex to hold my mail, then sit on the bed and eat my chicken Caesar salad while staring at the open closet in front of me. Packing is going to be the bigger challenge. I need to pack business attire, casual wear for exploring the city, and probably fancier clothes in case there is a business dinner to attend, or I wanted a night on the town, which is highly unlikely. But as sure as I don’t pack something just in case, the opportunity will present itself. That’s just my luck. So, it’s best I prepare for everything.

  When I finish stuffing the last of my clothing into the suitcase and look at the clock on my wall, it’s almost midnight. I grab my phone and check Hit Me Up to see if CB has tried to reach me. Disappointingly, there’s nothing.