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“To get laid,” Lincoln said, emphasis on the last word.
Alex glanced around his office at the other men. “That’s what this is about? You think I’m curt—”
“Curmudgeonly,” Cole broke in.
“Because I’m horny?” Alex asked, ignoring Cole’s interruption.
“Definitely,” Jake said with a nod.
“I’m not,” Alex ground out. “I’ve only been single for a couple weeks. Not even. I’m not so licentious that I can go that long without a woman.”
“Generally speaking, that’s probably true,” Jake said. “But for whatever reason, your tolerance for abstinence is way down lately. Ever since that dinner party, actually.”
Alex met Jake’s gaze and saw from the other man’s expression that Jake thought he knew exactly why Alex had been running a little ragged lately.
Alex narrowed his eyes to indicate that Jake didn’t know shit.
If Grace had planted some garbage in her husband’s brain about Alex being hung up on Emma, that was Jake’s problem.
Alex wasn’t going to dignify it with a response.
“Anyway,” Lincoln said, “that’s where I come in. I don’t know if you know this, but I’ve got this rather impressive skill of staying on excellent terms with all women, even those I’ve slept with—”
“He really does have that skill,” Cole broke in. “It’s annoying. Every girl I sleep with wants to kill me after.”
“That’s because you slip out of bed in the a.m. and leave a “Thanks, babe” Post-it Note on the pillow,” Jake said.
“So does Mathis!” Cole said, pointing. “And, hell, so did you for that matter, before you met Grace.”
Jake ignored this, shifting attention back to Alex.
Once again, Alex shoved the phone back at Lincoln. “I am not going to scroll through your contact list and pick a woman at random.”
“Of course not,” Lincoln said in a soothing voice. “We’re going to use my expertise to find a woman for you. Now. Talk to Uncle Lincoln. Since you and I don’t hang out much outside the office, I’ll need to know a little about your type.”
“He likes them tall,” Cole said. “But not model tall.”
“Slim,” Jake added, “But not model skinny.”
“Got it, so no models,” Lincoln said, his thumb scrolling over his screen. “What about actresses?”
“No, too showy,” Jake said. “He likes the smart ones.”
“Geek smart, or street smart?” Lincoln asked. “Because there’s this cute girl I used to date over in IT at—”
“Sophisticated smart,” Cole said. “His girlfriend was an attorney or some shit.”
Alex began to click his pen in earnest. “I can find my own women.”
Lincoln gave him a condescending look. “That must be hard. Seeing as you never leave this damn office.”
“Women come into this office,” Alex shot back.
“Yeah, but they all work for you, and something tells me you frown on that sort of thing.”
He did. He definitely did. Hitting on employees was not an option. Ever.
And as much as he hated to admit it, these three interfering buffoons were right about one thing. Alex had been feeling restless lately. And he was spending way too much time in this office, staring at his computer screen, alternating between reading about glittery eye shadow (Stiletto) and the correct way to do pull-ups (Oxford).
