Bound By The Beta

A man in a suit

A tall, well-built man in a tailored black suit and top hat lounged at the counter with relaxed confidence. He looked completely out of place in the humble coffee shop. It was afternoon, and most men were still at work. He smoked a cigar, his expensive suit and self-assured presence drawing admiring glances from the women serving tables.

Ursula, in particular, hadn't been able to stop watching him since he walked in around three. Soon it would be evening, the hour when working men stopped by for a drink and ladies gathered to gossip. She was observant by nature, and she was certain she'd never seen him in Kilston before. She wouldn't have forgotten a man like him. He was tall with long legs that filled his trousers perfectly, and his biceps strained subtly against the fabric of his suit. No one wore a suit quite like he did certainly not the pot-bellied men who usually frequented the shop.

She still hadn't seen his face clearly, but silver hair spilled from beneath his top hat. He didn't look old.

"Ursula, you're drooling and boring holes into that poor man's skull," an amused voice said behind her.

It was Mauren, the owner's wife. Ursula's cheeks burned with embarrassment.

Mauren laughed softly. "It's alright, dear. Even I can appreciate a fine specimen, and I'm married. Now go take his order. He's been sitting there for a while."

"I can?" Ursula asked, surprised.

"Yes. Anna's busy with the other tables, and rush hour is starting. Be quick about it." Mauren winked.

"Yes, ma'am."

Giddiness lightened Ursula's steps as she approached the counter.

"Good afternoon, sir. What would you like to order?"

He looked up, and her breath caught. He had the most striking golden eyes she had ever seen. When he smiled, dimples appeared, but Ursula could tell it wasn't genuine.. the smile never reached his eyes.

He removed his top hat, revealing a stylish wolf-cut of silver hair. His face was flawless, almost sculpted. Gods, she thought, he's beautiful.

"Black coffee," he said. His voice was deep and rich, the kind that made a woman's knees weak.

She struggled to stay professional. "Would you like cookies with that? They're a Kilston favorite."

He leaned back in his chair. "Would you recommend them?"

"Y-yes," she murmured.

"Then I'll have those too."

She bowed slightly and hurried away, heart racing. Unseen by her, the man's golden eyes cooled into disinterest as he let out a quiet sigh.

The doorbell chimed. Another tall man in a suit entered briskly. His sharp green eyes found the silver-haired man immediately. He checked his watch before sliding into the seat opposite him.

"You always attract attention wherever you go," the newcomer whistled, noticing the women at nearby tables stealing glances. He had a small scar near his mouth, a buzz cut, and tattoos peeking from his collar. There was something dangerous yet playful about him.

He leaned forward. "Did you find what you were looking for, George?"

The silver-haired man,George finally acknowledged him with a resigned shake of his head.

"What are you going to do?"

"Eno, why do you always ask questions you already know the answers to?"

Eno sighed.

Ursula returned with a tray holding a hot coffee and fresh cookies. She noticed the new arrival and felt a flicker of unease. He looked like the kind of man mothers warned their daughters about.

"I will have what he's having," he said.

She nodded quickly and left.

"So when are you leaving?" Eno asked, taking a sip of his black coffee. He grimaced. "Gross. This is as bitter as your personality."

He waved Ursula over. When she approached, he asked, "Do you have anything sweeter?"

"We have a chocolate drink on the menu. It's quite sweet, though it's usually for the children's section."

George chuckled. Eno's ears turned pink as he glared at the man across from him.

"Damn you." He turned back to Ursula. "I'll have that, please. And the bill."

She hurried off.

"I'm leaving tomorrow morning," George said.

Eno hummed, munching on a cookie. "Maybe luck will finally smile on your unlucky ass. Who knows? She could be right under your nose."

The doorbell chimed. George's gaze sharpened as a heavily pregnant woman entered. She moved with surprising ease, her brown hair tied in a neat bun, her expression serious. But it wasn't her appearance that seized his attention... it was the faint, sweet scent drifting from her.

His body went rigid.

Eno noticed immediately and glanced over his shoulder. The woman took a seat near the entrance, facing them. When her eyes met theirs, she winked.

Eno looked at George's dilated pupils, then back at the woman. Realization dawned. He burst into loud, uncontrollable laughter, drawing stares from every table.

Ursula returned with the chocolate drink and quickly moved to serve the pregnant woman.

"Eno," George growled in warning.

"Sorry... " Eno wheezed, still laughing. "I said she might be under your nose, but I never imagined… a woman swollen with child. And from what I'm overhearing, it's not even her first, it's her third. Married to a loving husband, too."

George's jaw tightened as he caught the young server asking the woman about her firstborn daughter, Sophia, and her husband, Josh.

"f**k…"

"Your luck really is terrible," Eno continued, still chuckling. "The Moon must truly despise you."

George desperately needed something stronger than coffee.

"You'll have to find a way to reject her. Though your possessive nature will fight you every step of the way." Eno nearly choked on his cookie when he saw the dark look on George's face. "Look on the bright side.. at least your search is finally over."

Fuck.

The doorbell chimed again.

"Carmilla, over here!"

A stronger wave of that intoxicating scent hit George. When he looked up, his gaze locked onto a pair of striking blue eyes.

And for a moment, his heart stopped.

The woman with striking blue eyes didn't linger on him like most women did. It was as if he didn't exist. Her full attention was on the squirming young girl she was trying to control.

"Leave me alone, you old hag!" the girl protested.

In the struggle, the white shawl slipped from the woman's head, revealing vibrant blue hair. George's eyes widened.

Blue hair.

It was rare. Bold. He had never seen anything like it. Her blue-tinted brows furrowed in mock disbelief.

"Old hag? I'll have you know I'm younger than your mother. If anyone deserves that title, it's her."

The girl snarled. "My mother isn't old! Stop calling her that!"

The blue-haired woman snarled right back, equally petty, as she dragged the girl toward the pregnant woman, who was clearly trying and failing to hide her smile. No one in the shop seemed surprised. Apparently, this was normal behavior for them.

George caught a few murmured comments about "the second Jackson daughter" who had recently graduated from the Academy.

Eno noticed where his friend's attention had gone.

"Brother, even though I laughed earlier, you know I'll always have your back," he said more seriously. "But you need to let this one go. She already has a life... kids, a family..."

"Shut up. She's not the one."

George cut him off before the lecture could begin. From experience, he knew it would last an hour if he didn't.

"What?" Eno glanced back again, spotting the blue-haired woman now seated opposite the pregnant one, with the reluctant girl pinned beside her. "The blue-haired girl?"

"Yes." George's gaze remained locked on her.

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

Eno exhaled. "She must have hugged her or something." Then he smirked. "George, you're staring at her like a creep. Rein it in."