Waiting For August

Part 6~August

"August?"

I was halfway to the door when I heard Denae call out to me. I stopped, not because I wanted to, but because I wasn't about to be the asshole who ran away from a pregnant woman. At least I had set some distance between the wolf and myself. Immediately I engaged my poker face—every lawyer owned one—forced a smile upon my lips and turned to face her. Denae reached me shortly, her hand draped protectively across her enormous belly, as her dark eyes searched my face with concern.

"Is everything all right?"

"Of course." I lied, frowning slightly as if I was confused by her concern. "I just realized I forgot my phone in the car and I need it to take notes." It was a plausible enough excuse, as I had been using it to navigate around the city before she'd had Hannah ride with me. I glanced at the oversized clock at the back of the courtroom, and she followed my gaze. There was ten minutes before we were scheduled to begin. "I should probably hurry."

When she nodded, I set off at a quick pace. As soon as the doors swung closed behind me, I broke out into a half run, reached the front of the building and shoved the doors open wide. I turned immediately to my left as I ran along the length of the building, until I was past the glass front of the courthouse, stopping only once I'd reached the corner. There was a bike stand here, between the large columns that ran along the front of the building. It was empty at this time of night, and I grasped onto it white knuckled as I steadied myself.

My heart was racing out of control. My wolf was bristling. My breathing erratic. Why? Why now? Why after all this time, when my life was finally starting to come together. When I was about to move here; live in this city for the next six months, perhaps longer if the firm decided to keep me on.

As soon as I'd smelled him, I knew. His scent was a mix of everything I'd ever loved. He'd smelt of patchouli and cedar and the wonderfully fresh way the forest smelt after the rain. It was a longing and immediately comforting smell—and it terrified me.

He was an Alpha too. Even if Danae hadn't mentioned it in passing, I would have known. They had a presence, Alphas. An air of authority that could bring a man to his knees. And he was huge. I was a fair-sized man myself—but he was bigger than me. I came in at just over six feet, having inherited my father's physique. I'd run into young wolves in the city before and on more than one occasion had been mistaken for an Alpha, even though I'd always strived to stay lean. They would look at me, and I could see the confusion in their eyes. Perhaps there was no escaping destiny after all, although I'd tried. God knew I'd tried.

Get control of yourself. I had to go back in there. Had to face him. I forced myself to breathe, to calm my ragged breath. The fall air was brisk and refreshing. It helped to cool my burning skin, but I wished I had some medicine to help settle my queasy stomach. I often carried some with me when I travelled, but it would be in my luggage in the trunk of my rental car. Besides that, I had to remain sharp, needed to stay on top of my game, and I really needed to get back inside.

My cellphone vibrated within my inner breast pocket, and I released my grip on the bicycle rack to retrieve it. Aw, hell. I'd gripped the bike stand so hard that I'd left impressions in the hollow metal tubing.

Bringing out my cell, I wasn't surprised to see that the text waiting for me was from Denae. "On my way" I typed as I headed back towards the courthouse and the man that I was destined to be with.

All eyes were on me as I re-entered the courtroom. As I swung the gate that separated the council tables from the gallery, Denae made quick introductions.

"August Shaw, meet Caleb Bishop." I nodded as he reached his hand out towards me and I was forced to make eye contact. Damn. He was perhaps the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes on. He was tall and broad shouldered and built like a tank. His hair was thick and wavy, almost black and he had a beard to match which he kept neatly cropped. His eyes were a dark shade of blue and surrounded by thick lashes, the kind that most women would kill for. He was dressed casually in a pair of clean denim jeans and a black long-sleeved Henley. The sleeves had been pushed up, revealing dark tattoos along one of his arms, and the unbuttoned front displayed not only the hollow of his collarbone, but the thick rise of his muscular chest.