Greg had to have found an omega. But he was seated next to an older woman at the wedding, and Dale had forgotten to breathe when he’d passed Greg. Was he wearing another omega’s scent?
June came to stand beside him. The crowd turned to look at Cher, who wore the most elaborate dress Dale had ever seen, with sequins and ribbons and layers of lace, and a sparkling train that followed her down the aisle. During the times Dale had met her, she’d dressed casually, in T-shirts and jeans. Today, she looked radiant, with her tumbling red hair all done up, and joy rippling off her in waves.
Dale wanted to look radiant, too. He wanted to be married to his alpha, wanted his alpha to tell him he was beautiful.
“How are you?” June asked under her breath.
“Oh, gods, June. I can’t believe you invited Greg.” He wanted to cover his face. But there was a touch of makeup on his skin, and he didn’t want to ruin it. “He’s still looking at me!”
She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t have invited him if he wasn’t going to look at you.”
“I almost had a heart attack. Don’t pull that on me!”
“You said it yourself. You weren’t going to see him again.”
Dale looked at his hands. She was right. “Does he have an omega?” he whispered, half-afraid of the answer.
June only smiled. “Ask him yourself.”
Dale groaned. Cher stepped down the aisle, and June grinned at her bride, her attention slipping away from Dale. Dale admired Cher again, with her red-orange curls and the cute pair of glasses perched on her nose. He really was happy for them.
But right now, all he could think about was the alpha two rows away. Dale both wanted to touch him, and run as far as he could. He shouldn’t distract Greg from a younger omega. He needed to leave, so he could stop aching for Greg.
When this was over, he’d catch a cab or bus home, get as far as he could from Cambria.
The rest of the ceremony passed in a whirl. Dale tried not to think about Greg. Greg hardly looked away from him, and Dale wanted to step closer, check if Greg still looked the same. If he still smelled the same. Dale wanted a hug, and gods, it was difficult, watching June get married when he wanted his own wedding. He shouldn’t be jealous.
The moment June began thanking the guests for their attendance, Dale turned. He slipped into the rose garden, heading for the quiet road.
He felt a little bad, leaving June while her wedding wasn’t over yet. But he needed to get out of here before Greg cornered him. Before Dale fell into his arms and made a mistake in front of so many people.
He needed to get away.
35
Greg
Greg swore, darting between the wedding guests. Damn all the tiny clauses June had made him agree to—no leaving before the other guests did. No attracting attention to himself. No hunting down Dale on the mansion grounds.
He loosened his tie, jogging toward the mansion’s exit. He’d seen Dale head that direction, leaving behind a trace of hibiscus. The scent was barely there, faint in a blend of other scents, and when Greg reached the mansion driveway, he was almost afraid that he’d lost Dale.
Auburn hair flashed at the end of the street, right down from where he’d parked his car. It would be faster to drive.
The wedding had been painful to watch. Especially when Dale had held on to the other alpha, looking up at him. Dale had looked beautiful in that loose shirt and pants, his eyes bright in the sunlight. Greg had wanted to pull him close, hug him, and the entire time he’d watched Dale and that alpha, Greg had thought, Mine.
At six months pregnant, Dale’s belly was swollen with their child, and Greg wished he could touch Dale, talk to their baby. Gods, he’d wanted nothing more than to hold his omega close.
He slipped into his car, slamming the door shut. The Porsche rumbled to life around him. Greg checked the street, waiting for three slow cars to drive by. The streets of Cambria were narrow, grassy stretches to either side.
When he pulled out onto the road, Dale had gone. Greg swore, urging the Porsche forward, scanning the roads leading into the other housing estates. After the initial burst of traffic, the streets had returned to being sparse. He stepped down on the gas pedal, appreciating the smooth hum of the Porsche’s engine, the way it obeyed his steering at the slightest touch.
And now, when Greg needed a car most, he was glad he had the Porsche with him, despite everything else he hated about his father’s money.
He wound through the lanes of homes, searching for red-brown hair.
It was only when he pulled away from the narrower roads, when he turned in the direction of the highway, that he found Dale. On the roadside a hundred yards away, Dale held his belly, his strides lagging. Greg’s chest squeezed. Don’t strain yourself!
Further down the road, some cars drove by. There wasn’t any divider, just a lane for traffic in each direction, and grass bordering them. It seemed safe enough. Not somewhere he’d want his omega, though, not when he was just a lane away from traffic.
Greg was about to accelerate when a truck drove into view two hundred yards down, weaving along the road. It careened into Greg’s lane, then swerved back into its own. Then it veered out again, its side squealing against the guard rail. Greg tensed. Dale was right between them, with only a grassy drop-off and a steel railing to his side.
Greg glanced in the rear-view mirror. There were a couple of cars slowing down behind him, and some cars to his left, getting the hell away. Dale had seen the truck, too, wrapping his arms around his belly. He had nowhere to run. Not with empty land
