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“Don’t you dare hang up this phone.” Micah’s sharp tone softened as the worry bled into his voice. “Talk to me, Ant.”
August wandered back down the hallway to the living room. “Really, it’s nothing. I’m probably just being paranoid.” He hadn’t found anything out of the ordinary, other than the fact that Meredith needed to vacuum more often.
“Tell me.”
August rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you this afternoon.” Then he hung up before Micah could interrogate him further.
Chapter three
Micah folded his handsin his lap and sighed inwardly when the guy he’d passed on the way in got up from his table and sauntered over to him. He’d eyed Micah up and down the minute he’d walked into the deli, and from there, the man had tracked his every movement.
Tight denim encased a perfect ass, and a black, lightweight sweater gripped his firm upper body. The simple clothing hugged each line and contour of his slim, lean frame, and each sway of his narrow hips brought him closer to Micah’s table.
Coming to a graceful stop, the stranger settled one hand lightly on the back of the empty chair across from him. With his free hand, he swept his long, ebony locks away from his heart-shaped face and smiled.
“Is this seat taken?” he asked, his voice quiet yet seductive.
Something familiar tugged at the fringes of Micah’s memory, but he wrote it off as quickly as it had happened. The newcomer was definitely handsome, gorgeous even, but Micah only had one guy on his mind.
Glancing up from his cell phone, he offered a brief, forced smile before pretending to be busy again. “Actually, yes, it is taken. I’m meeting someone.”
Undeterred by Micah’s dismissal, he smirked as he slid into the empty seat. Swallowing back his irritation, Micah pocketed his cell phone and leaned forward across the table.
“Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I really am meeting someone, and frankly, I don’t know you from Adam.”
“Well, that’s a fine how-do-you-do. I drag myself away from a perfectly good nap and drive clear across town to meet you for lunch, and you’re already trying to get rid of me.”
The teasing tone grated on Micah’s nerves for about half a heartbeat before he finally realized where he recognized the voice from. “Ant?”
Sweet baby Jesus, August had grown up and filled out in all the right places. He’d been a handsome boy, but the man he’d become—Micah didn’t have words. His mate simply stole his breath.
August splayed his hands and held them out to his sides. “In the flesh.”
Jumping up from his seat, Micah rounded the small, square table in three strides, jerked August out of his chair, and pulled him into a crushing hug. He didn’t care who saw them. He didn’t care that it had been over a decade since they’d even spoken. Hell, it didn’t even bother him when August coughed uncomfortably and pushed against his chest. He’d waited too long to hold his mate in his arms again, and the guy would just have to give him this one moment of weakness.
“Hey,” he whispered as he eased August back to his feet and stepped away. “It’s good to see you.”
August smiled crookedly as he blushed to the tips of his ears. The light didn’t quite reach his gaze, though. Those jade green eyes held a world of sadness, hurt, and insecurity. Knowing he’d caused those uneasy emotions felt like swallowing a white-hot poker, and worse, Micah knew he deserved the pain.
“It’s good to see you, too.” August retook his seat and crossed one denim-clad leg over the other. “Have you ordered yet?”
Micah just stared. Nothing that came out of his mouth would make a difference, not yet anyway. It wouldn’t happen all at once, but the guy had agreed to meet him for lunch. It might not sound like a lot to some people, but it was a start.
“Hello? Earth to Micah.” August waved both hands, crossing and uncrossing his arms in front of his face. “Are you bored already?”
He laughed, the sound soft and musical. Micah detected an undercurrent of hesitancy, though, as if August truly believed he might not be welcome.
August’s moist breath wafted across the table, fanning against Micah’s face and bringing with it a sweet, flowery scent that spiked his long-buried protective instinct. “Tell me about this morning,” he demanded. “Please,” he added after swallowing a couple of time to remove the gravel from his voice.
Settling back in his seat, August glanced around the immediate area, probably checking for any eavesdroppers. Once satisfied they wouldn’t be overheard, he tugged nervously at his long, shiny hair and sighed.
“She’s human, Micah,” he mumbled, almost pleadingly. “She’s my best friend. Meredith wouldn’t hurt anyone on purpose, especially not me.”
“Ant, I can smell it on you, on your breath, in your pores.” He’d known Meredith for years, and while they’d never been great friends, he’d liked her well enough. “Having devil’s ivy in her house might be an accident. Feeding it to you isn’t.”
Though harmless to humans and pretty in gardens, devil’s ivy was toxic to many breeds of werewolves, often fatal in large doses. It didn’t even have to be ingested, either. Just handling the plant could lead to headaches, nausea, and muscle cramps.
“That’s just it, though,” August argued. “I searched everywhere, and I didn’t find devil’s ivy anywhere in the house. I felt sick afterbreakfast, and then I had kind of an aftershock while I was on the phone with you, but nothing else.” He still spoke in that same quiet, defeated tone, and he wouldn’t look at Micah, choosing instead to study the fine hairs on his forearms. “She wouldn’t hurt me. Just let me…” Trailing off, he finally lifted his head and looked Micah in the eyes. “I’ll take care of it.”
