Page 19 of Fated Despite the Moon

"Caleb's heading to Moscow tomorrow," said Griffin.

"Moscow?" asked Makayla.

"I need to pick up a stove and fridge. You want to come help pick it out?" The hopeful look on Caleb's face struck her in the heart. Did he really want her input on how he put his kitchen together?

"Uhm… maybe. We'll see." She headed for the stairs. She wanted to glance back at them, to see if they were watching her go. Ifhewas watching her. But she couldn’t bear to see the look in their eyes. She knew it would mimic the look her mother always gave her. The one telling her she wasn't worthy to be with them.

Chapter Seven

Caleb lay atop his covers listening to the sounds of the woods. What had he gotten himself into? For the past week he'd tried to form some kind of relationship with Makayla. Not a romantic relationship but a friendship, and she'd shown little to no interest. Like she was just doing her time until she could escape her prison sentence. But the night Dakota and Griffin had come over, she’d looked at him. Really looked at him, and for a split second he could have sworn that she felt… something. What it was, he did not know.

He stared at the ceiling directly below where she would be sleeping. They'd fallen into a routine but not necessarily a good one. He'd wake up early and get breakfast together for them. She'd come down around eight thirty, eat, and then head up to get dressed. By the time nine rolled around and he had to get to work, she'd jog down the stairs and ask if he could drop her at the library. And there she would stay until evening when he would pick her up, bring her home, and fix dinner. As far as he could tell she didn't eat during the day, which in and of itself worried him. And she barely spoke two sentences to him after they came home. Even for a guy as quiet at Caleb, he knew it wasn't normal for them to be like strangers living in the same house.

He blew out a heavy breath and rubbed his face. What had he expected?

The couple of times he'd met her when they were younger, she'd been spoiled but sweet and fun and adventurous. The first to challenge him and Logan to a foot race. Or to see who could climb the highest in a tree. She ruined every fancy piece of clothing her mother dolled her up in by swimming in the lake, chasing rabbits in the brush, and having mud fights. Now she acted like her fancy clothes were as precious as gold. Her makeup perfect. Her hair always done in some elaborate way that seemed so silly to Caleb considering they lived in Wolf River. He's seen her in the mornings before she painted and primped and curled every inch of herself. She was beautiful without the adornment. He just wondered if she'd ever give him a chance to tell her.

A whimper pulled his attention, and his hearing perked up. Every night her moans, crying, and thrashing woke him. He didn't know what she dreamed about, but it always left him in anguish to hear her so distressed.

"No!" she shouted. "Daddy! Daddy!"

His heart hammered in his chest, and his wolf whined. He stared at the ceiling willing her to rest peacefully. But she cried out again. Louder and more distressed. His wolf growled and made Caleb lurch to his feet. He sniffed the air and waited. The fear she emanated floated all the way down to where he stood.

"Daddy!"

A crash had him rushing up to her room. He threw the door wide and found her on the floor.

"Makayla." He ran to her side where she lay in a cami and panties. He pushed the hair from her face. Thank God she wasn't bleeding. Her eyes widened, and she scrambled away from him until her back hit the wall. "Makayla, it's Caleb."

Terror laced her features in the moonlight. She scanned the room, blinked several times, and then looked him up and down.

"Caleb?"

"You're okay. You had another bad dream."

Her shoulders slumped, and she hung her head between her knees. She stared at the floor for a minute before finally looking up.

"Anotherbad dream?" she said. "I've woken you before."

He shrugged and crossed his arms over his bare chest realizing that he only wore his boxer briefs and tube socks. "It's not a big deal."

She stared at him for a minute.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head and got to her feet. "I'm sorry I woke you. I'll try not to do that again."

"Like I said, it's not a big deal. I…" He wasn't sure what to say. "I want to be here for you. If you need me."

She got back into bed and pulled up her covers. "Thank you. I think I just want to get some sleep though." She rolled over and faced the window.

Caleb waited for a minute wanting to say something that would help her. But no words came out so he walked out of the room. She locked her anguish deep inside her, unwilling to voice it except while sleeping. The question was, why.

* * *

The next morningMakayla didn't go down for breakfast. She was too mortified by how she'd acted, and by Caleb seeing her so weak. Back home she'd partied herself to exhaustion every night and taken just one of her doctor approved pills to help her get a few hours of rest during the day before going back out again. Ever since her father's death her life had been one big party. But now… she had nothing to dull her pain.

She remembered every detail of Caleb's taut muscular body as he'd rushed into the room to help her. Stupid nightmare had dumped her out of bed and onto the wooden floor, and she had the bruise on her hip to prove it. She'd been so embarrassed to find him standing there in his thigh hugging underwear asking her if she was okay. She’d not realized until seeing him in his underwear, just what his jeans covered. Powerfully sculpted legs worthy of Atlas who held the world on his shoulders. And damn if she hadn’t always had a thing for a pair of muscular calves and a tight round rear. Her body tingled at the memory of him crouched over her, pushing her hair from her face. The smell of his cologne mixed with his own personal scent. The sensation made her body flush with heat.

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