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“But he’s your mate!” Meredith repeated, as though that would suddenly make everything okay.
Knowing she wouldn’t let it go, August sighed as he shifted through the clutter on his desk for a pen and scrap of paper. Nothing said “I’m available and desperate” like getting wound up over the guy who’d dumped him. “Fine, let’s have it.”
Meredith rattled off the number twice and then made August recite it back to her. After being repeatedly forced to promise he’d call the minute he left for Indiana, he said his goodbyes and disconnected. Picking up the slip of paper with Micah’s number on it, August leaned back in his desk chair and stared at the digits.
After all this time, he couldn’t imagine why Micah wanted to talk to him. They’d had little in common when they’d been together, and he guessed they had even less in common now. It would definitely be awkward.
“For crying out loud, August,” he berated himself, “you’re a grown man, not a heartsick kid.” Without a good reason not to call, he just looked like the jaded lover he was.
Sucking in a deep breath and praying for courage, August snatch his cell phone off the desk and dialed before he could change his mind. Then he sat on the edge of his chair, his shoulders back and his spine rigid, gnawing on his bottom lip while he waited for an answer.
“Hello?” a voice answered on the fourth ring in a deep, resonating bass.
Whoa. Shivering at the current that rippled along his spine, August tugged at his slacks and shifted in his seat when the tingles traveled to places they had no business occupying. “Umm…I’m looking for Micah Hayden,” he stammered.
“This is Micah Hayden. Who’s calling?”
“You probably don’t remember me,” August began, but stopped when he realized how stupid that sounded. The guy had crushed his heart into a million pieces. Oh, and he’d asked about him. Either way, of course Micah remembered him. “It’s August. August Tucker. Meredith gave me your number.”
Silence.
Okay, great. This is going well.
“Ant?”
Even after all these years, the silly nickname had the ability to stretch his lips into a warm, indulgent smile. “Yeah, it’s me.” Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he’d dreaded. “How are you, Micah?”
“Wow. Itisyou. I wasn’t sure you’d call, but I’m glad you did.” An echoing smile tinted Micah’s voice, and he sounded genuinely happy. “How long has it been? Twelve, thirteen years?”
“Something like that.” Some days, it felt longer. Other days, it felt like no time had passed and the pain nearly suffocated him. “So, you’re back in Indy now?”
“Yes, sir. I bought The Garage, so that’s where I’ve been spending most of my time.”
Micah had started working for old man Aikens in junior high, cleaning up around the shop and fetching parts for the mechanics. Gods, he’d loved that place, and he’d talked nonstop about owning his own garage one day. August was truly happy his old love had fulfilled his dream.
“That’s great, Micah, really. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” A measure of uncertainty floated over the line. “What else did Meredith tell you?”
“Just that you found a buyer for your parents’ farm. Are they really moving to Florida?”
“Well, Mom is moving down there to be closer to her sister. Dad passed a couple of months ago. I’m not selling the old place, either.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I know you two were close.” It seemed callous to ask, but August did question what that meant for the pack. He also wondered how Meredith could get her facts so horribly wrong. “Are you living at the farm, then? I thought you’d just signed a lease on an apartment?”
Silence hung over the line before Micah groaned under his breath. “Some things never change, huh?”
“If you’re referring to the fact that Meredith hears a quarter of the conversation and makes up the rest, you wouldn’t be wrong.” Gods, Micah had a great laugh, and even through the phone line, his voice washed over August in all the right—er, wrong?—places. “Okay, so what am I missing?”
“Well, I justterminatedthe lease on my old apartment. Mom did sign the farm over to me, but I’m not selling the house or any of the land. Seems like it would be a waste of resources to turn over seventy acres of pack lands.”
“You’re converting the farm to pack lands?” August sat up a little straighter and cocked his head to the side. The pack had never had a place of their own to run, not that August could remember, anyway. “Why now? Why the sudden change?”
Micah cleared his throat, and when he spoke, he sounded a little too casual for it to be authentic. “It’s just time for some changes.” He paused, a little hesitation that anyone else probably wouldn’t have noticed. “You’re living in Oklahoma now, right?”
He was definitely hiding something, but after so long apart, it wasn’t really August’s place to ask. So he ignored the tightening in his gut and pasted a smile on his lips when he answered. “Yes, sir, I have my own office here in Tulsa.”
To date, it was his biggest accomplishment, and he’d worked his ass off, scrimping, saving, and sacrificing to be able to open his own practice. It hadn’t been easy in the beginning, but he’d seen steady progress, especially in the past couple of years. His exclusive clientele required a certain level of…discretion, and they were willing to pay top dollar to protect their privacy.
