Page 27 of Fated Despite the Moon

Caleb unrolled the bag and pulled out the muffin bread loaf thing and dumped it on the table. Jeremiah picked it up and sniffed it.

"Smells good."

"So did the eggs she tried to burst me into flames with this morning."

Jeremiah chuckled and unwrapped the loaf. He pulled off a small bite and ate it. His eye widened.

Caleb looked at it skeptically. "On a scale of you want to vomit to you only want to spit it out, how bad is it?"

Jeremiah chuckled. "You tell me."

Caleb broke off a piece and popped it into his mouth. He hesitated then chewed. The delicately sweet flavors danced across his tongue and made his stomach growl.

"Damn. That's great."

Jeremiah chuckled. "Your girl may not be able to cook, but she can sure as hell bake."

Now wasn't that interesting? Caleb grabbed the bread before his dad could tear off another bite.

"You know, I think I'll keep this for myself. After all, she did make it just for me."

Chapter Nine

Caleb pulled up to the cabin, and a lightning strike of apprehension lodged in his gut. He sat for a minute trying to prepare himself for the fact that Makayla had probably retreated to her room once again. When he could take the anticipation no longer, his wolf pushed him from the cab. He took in several deep breaths as he stomped up the steps of the porch. The smell of food had his stomach grumbling before he’d even opened the door. He told his stomach not to get too excited. The woman may be able to bake, but that didn’t mean she could cook.

He walked into the house just as Makayla stepped out of the laundry room, a look of terror on her face. Caleb dropped his things and rushed to her in a blink.

"What's wrong? What's happened?"

Tears filled her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I was trying to help, and I thought I knew what I was doing, but I guess I didn't, and I just..."

He tried to process her words. He scanned and sniffed her. He didn't smell blood.

"Are you hurt?"

"No. I'm fine but your clothes–"

Her words registered but they didn’t make any sense. "My clothes?"

She led him into the laundry room. A huge pile of his clothes sat on a folding table. He looked over them, trying to understand what had her so scared and upset.

"I washed them, but I don’t know what I did wrong. Maybe the water was too hot..." She picked up his once white undershirts. They had become a tie-dyed mess of blues and grays. His tube socks had turned the color of week old snow. And his underwear… well… they used to be black.

He snickered then coughed at her horrified expression. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry. I've never done laundry before, and I tried to remember what my maid did last time I saw her do the laundry, but I was eight, and so it's been a while and–"

Instinctually Caleb pulled her into a hug. "It's fine. They're just clothes. It's not a big deal."

"I wanted to help so bad. You've been so great to me, and I've been a total bitch, and I made dinner and fed the chickens, and I wanted you to come home and see that I'm not such a bad person so you wouldn't kick me out."

Kick her out? "It’s okay." He pushed her to arm’s length. "Okay, just breathe."

A tear rolled down her beautiful face, and he swiped at it with his thumb.

"I'm not kicking you out."

"But you released me and–"

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