Caleb never understood why humans always seemed so desperate for attention. Unlike them, he had spent most of his life trying to go unnoticed, doing everything he could to hide his overwhelming size and strength. None of it had ever helped. And now, with his pack by his side, he no longer felt the need to hide who he truly was.
His men slid into the booth with him. Each of them was imposing in size, easily larger than the average man. Caleb had overheard enough random trivia from them to know that even human anatomy didn't quite compare—not that he cared to investigate such things. His pack always seemed to absorb the strangest bits of information.
"She's here," Reese said suddenly.
Then the scent hit him. Powerful, alluring, impossible to ignore. Caleb had never felt anything like it before.
His eyes scanned the diner, heart pounding as instinct took over. The sudden rush of arousal was nearly overwhelming, and he was grateful for the table concealing the very obvious reaction his body was having.
Get it together. You're in control.
Control was everything to Caleb. Unlike many wolves, he wasn't bound to the moon to shift forms. He could do it whenever he wanted, and that took years of focus and training. Giving in, losing control—those were luxuries he couldn't afford. Ever since his youth, he'd sworn to remain in charge of his own destiny. It was the mark of a true alpha.
Then the scent intensified.
The kitchen door swung open, and he instantly knew it was her. Even as she stumbled slightly, nearly dropping the tray she was carrying, he reacted before she could fall. One hand caught the tray, the other steadied her.
Pure instinct. A protective urge deeper than anything he'd ever felt surged through him.
She looked up at him—green eyes wide with surprise, her cheeks tinged with color. Her long black hair was tied back in a ponytail, and something about her presence soothed him.
"Nice reflexes," she said, a smile in her voice.
Even that was perfect. His wolf agreed without hesitation.
Mine.
In all of her twenty-five years, Bethany had never felt so small or delicate in someone's arms. She smiled up at the stranger who had caught both her and the tray she nearly dropped. Joe, her boss, definitely would've deducted it from her paycheck.
Joe hadn't been thrilled to hire her in the first place—and he certainly wasn't pleased when she didn't respond to his advances. Sure, he was attractive, and most of the women in town seemed to melt around him, but Bethany wasn't interested in charm without character. She wanted something deeper—something real.
This man, though—he was different. The mess of dark brown hair, those intense gray eyes… something about him tugged at her senses.
He helped her to her feet with a steady hand.
"Bethany," she introduced herself, offering a smile and a handshake.
"Caleb," he said.
He was massive—broad shoulders, thick arms, and a chest that looked carved from stone. His clothes clung to a body that clearly worked hard. It was obvious he'd come straight from labor.
"How about I get you a coffee? My treat, as a thank you?" she offered, taking the tray from him. Oddly enough, she felt a strong urge to make sure he was taken care of—like feeding him would bring her peace.
"We'd appreciate that. So, how long have you been in town, Bethany?" one of his companions asked.
"Only a couple of weeks," she said, smiling at the group. "Still settling in. Thanks again—I've got to run these to table six. I'll be back to take your order and get that coffee."
She delivered the meals and turned back toward their booth. But as she passed the counter, Joe caught her by the arm.
"I want those men out of here," he said in a low voice.
"What men?"
"Don't play dumb. The ones you're smiling at like a lovesick teenager. I saw you trip."
"I was just being polite. I wanted to buy them a coffee."
"Well, don't. And tell them to leave. Now."
"Oh," she said quietly, shrinking a little under his harsh stare.
There was something cold and threatening in Joe's eyes, something that always made her uneasy. He had a way of making her feel guilty, even when she was just doing her job. It was unsettling, like he expected something from her that she didn't understand.
Despite the discomfort, Bethany continued on into the kitchen. Ronnie, the kind-hearted line cook, was plating up another order.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, noticing her expression.
"Joe wants me to kick out some customers. I don't even think I should be the one to do it."
Ronnie sighed heavily. "You know Joe. He'll keep making things harder until he gets what he wants."
"Yeah. Unfortunately."
Still, she didn't let it stop her. She grabbed four to-go cups, filled them with fresh coffee, and packed a muffin for each of them. She had baked them herself. Ronnie often told her she had a gift, though Bethany just thought of it as something she loved to do. Cooking was her comfort zone—something familiar in a world that rarely felt stable.
With everything wrapped up, she placed them in a box. Her hands shook as she left the kitchen. Caleb and his friends were still waiting.
"Hi, I hate to do this but my boss says he doesn't want you in here. I want to thank you for rescuing me. I'm really, really sorry about this. I don't know why he acts the way he does." She shrugged.
Guilt clawed up her body. Why did Joe have to be such an absolute asshole?
She wanted to hug the man in front of her. And damn, he was huge.
Caleb.
Such a nice name. Sexy.
Dangerous.
He smiled at her, and she felt it radiate through her entire body like sunshine.
It seemed like he didn't smile enough in his life and needed to learn to do so. I could help him. The thought struck her so hard and so fast, she nearly stumbled. Keeping her smile in place, she tried to ignore her rioting feelings.