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Maverick looks into my eyes for a second, his gaze darting to my lips, and I think he might kiss me. I panic a little, not sure how to feel about it. Technically, I still have a pack. But should I spend the rest of my life single because they tricked me into a mate bond? I'm about to lean in and kiss him myself just to prove I can do this, to give in to my body’s desires. Just as my mind is almost made up, Maverick pulls away, albeit with a reluctant look on his face, and checks his phone.
He sighs, tucks his phone away in his pocket, and then says, "I'm sorry. I have to go. I'm meeting Hudson to go over our renovation plans for our new house."
"Oh," I say, frowning at the abrupt change in pace. "Okay. Well, I'll see you around, I guess." Thinking about not seeing him again has alarm racing through me, which I know he can scent because he steps into me and wraps his arms around my body. I can smell the hint of sweat on him behind his bourbon and citrus scent, but it doesn't detract anything. In fact, it makes him smell more rugged, like a man who isn't afraid of manual labor, and it's instinct to wrap my arms around his center in return. I feel small in his arms, treasured.
"You'll see me around, I promise, sweets." He pulls away and steps back to look at me, "I'm going to be shopping for tiles and flooring and what not this weekend for the house. I could really use another opinion." His hopeful grin has my spirits lifting.
"Like a date?" I grin back shyly.
"Like a date," he confirms, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.
"Okay," I whisper.
"Saturday?"
"I get off at four," I tell him. I'm working at The Hog's Head this weekend again. Friday and Saturday though so I don't have to pull a double Saturday.
"I'll meet you at the bar?" he asks, and I nod, giddy anticipation rolling through me in waves. "Bye, sweets," he grins and takes back off the way he was coming from. My eyes drop down to his ass as he jogs away. Those damn mini shorts. A hint of my perfume starts to spread, but he's already too far away to tell.
I turn around and start walking to work again. My hands drop to the waistband of my slacks to readjust where they have started to fall a little. As I do, I brush against my hip. Right where Brody's claiming mark is.
Just as fast as my good mood came, it drains away.You are allowed to move on,I chant in my head over and over.You are allowed to be happy.
A whisper of violence tickles my senses. After a minute, I realize it's Pack Monroe pushing their emotions at me again. My brows furrow a little because the feeling is barely there. It's like a phantom limb sensation. I can feel anger and rage...a flicker of sadness, but it's so quiet, I can't even tell which emotion belongs to whom. I'm not taking my bond suppressants anymore so they shouldn't be muted. Maybe the distance and time away makes it quieter. Or maybe I've gotten so used to it, that it isn't affecting me as much anymore. I hope either one is true, and it only gets easier with time.
It's a cool spring morning today, so there are more people walking to work, a pep in their step. With the weather taking a turn into spring, temperatures rising, the sidewalks have been getting busier. I'm in the middle of a crowd that has stopped at a light, waiting for the white walkman to pop up so we can cross the street, when someone bumps into my shoulder.
"Excuse me," I say at the same time the stranger apologizes. I look over and smile at him to show there are no hard feelings. He's taller than me so I have to look up.
"Sorry about that. I wasn't looking," he says again. He's got deep brown eyes set in a slightly wrinkled face. I'd guess he's in his late forties or early fifties, and his hair is buzzed short at the top and almost nonexistent on the side, so he seems ex-military maybe. Definitely a clean, buttoned-up look, despite his casual jeans and sweatshirt attire.
"It's okay," I say to the kind faced stranger who smiles back at me and then looks forward. The crowd around starts to walk so we must have the green light. When we all cross the street, he turns right with half the crowd, and I keep going straight with the rest. There's only another few blocks to my building, and the crowd has thinned a little, so I do my best to keep my head up and aware of the people around me, so as not to bump into anyone else accidentally.
Building in sight, I head for the revolving doors. There's a tall beta man pushing into the doors before me, so I wait for him to go before following after. Just as I push the metal bar and walk in, I turn my head to glance down the sidewalk where I just came from before facing forward again.
Wait.
I jerk my head back to the right and trip inside the glass door, causing the panel behind me to hit my heel and drag my shoe off my foot. I hobble out of the revolving door, curse, and try to fix my shoe. I rub the hurt on my heel before righting my shoe and forget all about the kind stranger I saw again at the end of the street.
Thirteen
Summer
I makeit to my desk forty-five minutes before work starts. The drawer I pull out to store my purse in sounds loud in the quiet space. There are a few people here from IT, but for the most part, I beat a lot of the staff in. A few overhead lights are still off, giving a hushed mood to the morning. Like everyone here is supposed to use library etiquette until someone turns the rest of the lights on. Indeed, the only noises to be heard are the tapping of keyboards down the hall.
I shake my computer mouse to wake up the screen and log on for the day. When it's up and I'm logged in, I go through my emails, respond to questions, and set up some meeting requests for Jerrick. After that's done, I go through his meetings for the day and take note of those for our morning pow-wow. Every morning we meet to go over his schedule and he'll give me some tasks he needs done. Sometimes, it could be a whole slew of things that will take me all day; other times, he has only needed a few things done, and the rest of the day I find things around the office to keep me busy until the end of day.
He's pretty much booked solid today. Back to back meetings all morning, and then he's doing a leadership lunch with the other heads of department that should last almost until the end of day. When all of that is taken care of, I pull out the elf manuscript with a resigned sigh and hope to the Goddess that it gets better in the second half.
"Good Morning, Summer." Jerrick walks up to my desk, looking surprised to see me. I startle as I realize forty-ish minutes have gone by. "You're here early." He's here a few minutes early, too, as it’s not quite time to clock in. It's about ten til eight, and Jerrick already looks like he’s ready to conquer the day. I look at his bright eyes, perfectly styled hair, and put together appearance. His white dress shirt is crisp and unwrinkled, and his dark gray slacks are pressed. He's carrying a coffee in one hand and his bag in the other.
"Couldn't sleep," I say as he walks into his office to set his stuff down and get ready for the day, same as I just had.
I wonder if he has trouble sleeping, too, or if he's one of those early risers. It occurs to me that I don't actually know anything about him other than he's good at his job. He doesn't wear a ring, so he's not married. But that isn't totally out there. He could have mate bonds hidden beneath his clothing.
The people that marry are typically ones that lost a bond mate and don't want to bond again; so they choose marriage. Or some, betas in particular, choose not to live in a pack and will marry another beta since they can't create a mate bond through biting. Only alphas and omegas can create a bond like that. Betas can be bitten by alphas and omegas, but usually when that happens, it's within the confines of a pack; and pack life isn't for everyone.
Not everyone finds their fated mate, either. There were several older ladies who I worked with before I fell into Pack Monroe that hadn't met their mates, were in their late sixties, and had settled down with one person in a quiet, packless life. But some go their whole lives not settling down at all in hopes of meeting their one true mate. Packless for their entire life. I wonder if that's how I'll be now. If, from here on out, people I try to date or get close to will look at my marks and run the other way.
