Chapter 8 #2
“I called Cameron and made a reservation at the Italian place down the street. You’re going to have a nice dinner with your fated mate, even if it kills me.
I have confiscated your phone, and so help me gods, given how much it keeps going off, it probably will kill me, but I no longer care.
You’re going to lose clients, or worse, if you walk into the gala like this. ”
Emory’s lion snarled and snapped, which he had never done with Christopher before, and Emory took that as a very clear sign that he needed to take a break.
Christopher marched him outside and, as if he didn’t trust Emory to take the hint, he pointed an aggressive finger down the road until Emory obediently started walking in that direction.
The fresh air was nice, despite the low temperature.
He appreciated the thought, but he had no intention of meeting Cameron for dinner.
Even though the idea of seeing his fated mate made him want to weep, he didn’t want to subject Cameron to whatever was going on with him.
His lion was pacing in anxious circles, and even he wasn’t convinced they should see their mate right now.
This was a little infuriating, considering all his lion did was roar and whine about them not spending time with Cameron.
Now that they were faced with the opportunity, though, it was clear they were both too worn out.
He planned on walking right past the restaurant, but as he approached, his lion caught his mate’s salty-sweet scent. He reared up on his hind legs and gave an earth-shaking roar, forcing Emory to hurry into the restaurant, lest he do something dramatic like shift in the middle of the sidewalk.
He entered the lobby and found Cameron standing at the host stand, absently scuffing his purple Converse on the tile floor. When he glanced up and saw Emory, his smile nearly brought Emory to his knees.
He couldn’t have walked away if he tried.
Emory was across the room before he could form a coherent thought, and he wrapped Cameron up in a crushing hug.
“Okay… It’s okay,” Cameron murmured, petting Emory’s hair in a way no one, except his mother, had ever done before.
He kept petting him, and slowly, Emory realized he was trembling.
It felt like right before a shift, when the atoms of his body would rearrange, except his lion was still pacing in a circle, not attempting to shift.
It was just Emory who was shaking, his arms quivering against Cameron’s back as his knees threatened to give out.
“Could you show us to our table? I think my partner needs to sit down,” Cameron said firmly, and the host scrambled out from behind his podium.
Emory released Cameron from his death grip but kept one arm around his shoulder. In a mirror image of their first date, Cameron pressed a hand firmly into Emory’s back as they walked down the aisle of tables.
At their first dinner, Emory had felt confident that fate had made the right call. Now, Emory wondered if fate had been wrong. Why couldn’t they have met when Emory’s father was still alive? Back when he was more than this shell of a person with an alpha beast he could barely tame.
Emory’s lion yowled at the accusation, and Emory apologized in his head. He felt like he was about to do a lot more apologizing to his neglected fated mate, so he might as well start now.
As they arrived at a small table in the back corner, Emory collapsed into his seat. Cameron quickly slid into his seat and took both of Emory’s hands across the table.
“It’s so good to see you. My octopus is practically doing cartwheels,” Cameron said. His lips curled in a sweet smile, but his eyes were crinkled in worry. Emory felt Cameron’s energy trying to stroke his lion, but he shied away from it.
“It’s good to see you as well, honey.” Cameron squeezed both of his hands, and Emory squeezed back as gently as he could. “So good. You have no idea.”
Emory’s lion settled as the server took their order and poured them both generous glasses of wine.
Cameron did most of the talking, vacillating between fascinating research tidbits his sister had shared and updating Emory on a project he was working on. He even managed to make Emory laugh, an almost foreign sound.
Emory didn’t have anything amusing to share, but he did give a few more details about the upcoming gala. He’d considered inviting Cameron, but he would be a pretty piss poor date as one of the hosts of the event, and Cameron said he truly didn’t mind not having to go to yet another stuffy gala.
As they talked, Emory actually tasted his food for the first time in days, and halfway through, Cameron suggested swapping, so they could each try both dishes. Emory’s heart warmed at the much more positive callback to their first date, and his lion began to purr on a continuous loop.
Their impromptu date flowed seamlessly, from dinner to dessert and coffee. Emory could admit he was stalling, trying to take advantage of every second of reprieve with his partner.
As he took his final sip of coffee, he began to feel antsy again.
His lion was no help, prowling back and forth, clearly displeased at having to return to work.
Cameron seemed equally wary. Emory tried to apologize for how shitty the past month had been, but Cameron waved it away, taking Emory’s hand and not letting go, even after the check was paid and it was time for them to leave.
“I promise, the second this gala is over, I’ll have more time. I’ll make sure of it, even if I have to hire another C-Suite member and not take on any new contracts.”
Cameron smiled sadly at him as they walked outside, but instead of heading down the sidewalk, he pulled them off to the side. Bewildered, Emory allowed himself to be led by the hand until Cameron backed himself up against the brick wall of the restaurant and pulled Emory forward.
Emory’s lion chuffed, no doubt snarkily noting that they should have been the ones to put their omega in this position. It was ridiculous that after nearly four months, they hadn’t done more to care for and to claim their mate.
Emory steadfastly ignored him. He placed one hand on the wall next to Cameron’s shoulder and the other possessively on his hip. Cameron smiled up at him and wound his arms around Emory’s neck.
“My octopus and I miss you, but I really do understand. We all have busy seasons, and it seems we met during yours. It’s not a race. We can take our time.”
Emory grumbled in a very undignified way and leaned forward to press his forehead against Cameron’s.
“Thank you for being so understanding, Cameron, but I almost wish you weren’t.
I wish you’d yell and stomp your feet, and then maybe I could go to my staff, my mother, and my aunts and say, ‘Oh, so sorry, my fated mate has spoken. Guess I can’t work these long hours anymore and must spend all my time with him. ’”
Cameron laughed and tipped his head back, catching Emory’s lips in a soft kiss. “You could say that even without me throwing a fit.”
Emory sighed and pressed a kiss to those two freckles, then the other side of Cameron’s mouth, then his nose, and finally his lips. Cameron sighed into the kiss and arched his back off the wall, coming dangerously close to grinding their hips together.
Emory’s lion roared as his blood rushed south, scrambling his already messy thoughts.
He knew intellectually that Cameron was right.
Their relationship wasn’t a race. But if it was…
Emory would be losing. He desperately wanted to lock himself and his omega in his bedroom.
He’d been abysmally horny the past few weeks, and his hand and the memory of his few kisses with Cameron were no longer cutting it.
At least he’d have this one to add to the bank.
“Soon,” Emory breathed against Cameron’s lips. They shared one more kiss before Emory had to press him back against the wall and take a needed step back.
Cameron tried to school his expression, but Emory caught a pout that he suspected might have come from his octopus. Emory’s lion was also not pleased, but what else was new?
“Can I walk you back to your office?” Cameron asked, and Emory couldn’t agree fast enough. Instead of holding hands, Cameron ducked under Emory’s arm and wrapped his arm around Emory’s waist.
He hoped the feeling of his partner in his arms would carry him through the weekend and to their next, hopefully much more proper date.
Years ago, when he still had time to watch TV, Emory had seen a nature special on how some animals would actually gnaw off their own limb to escape a hunter’s trap. At the time, he hadn’t understood what sort of desperation could drive a creature to do something like that.
He thought he understood it pretty well now.
They were over three hours into the gala, and while nothing catastrophic had happened, Emory’s night had been suitably derailed, and he was about ready to gnaw his own arm off if it meant he could leave.
As far as the guests were concerned, the event was a smashing success.
The room was packed, the entertainment was great, and the food and drinks were flowing.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing that was flowing.
Rumors about his estranged cousin seemed to be on half the guests' lips.
It turned out, almost a decade ago, he had founded his own organization and then moved on to lead a second.
Emory had been forced to navigate numerous conversations with other company executives, heads of influential families, and members of his own family about what would happen when Jonathon finally reappeared.
Emory didn’t have the slightest idea what was going to happen because anytime he tried to bring it up to his mother, she brushed it off. The aunts were happy to gossip about it, but when Emory tried to push for developing a strategy, they squawked about it being Emory’s job to handle.