Caleb's Mate

by Becca Jameson

  Hunter blinked several times and then grabbed the phone from Caleb’s palm and brought it closer to his face. His gaze jerked up to Caleb’s. “Please tell me this is a joke. You’re kidding, right?”

  Caleb frowned. “What are you talking about? This isn’t a joke. That’s my mate.” He pointed at the phone.

  Hunter shoved the phone back at Caleb, running his free hand through his hair. “That’s not your mate.”

  “What the fuck, man?” Caleb hissed. Hunter didn’t have to be an asshole. “Why would you say that?”

  Hunter looked ready to throw a punch, and his face was drawn tight when he responded. “Because she’s mine. That’s the woman I saw out jogging. I know I wasn’t mistaken. That is my mate. Not yours.”

  Caleb froze for several seconds before shaking himself out of his state of shock. “Not a chance in hell I was mistaken. Her scent filled the damn store. It lingered. It drew my attention. I know I’m not wrong. Maybe you’re wrong. You only saw her on the side of the road.” This couldn’t be happening.

  Hunter shook his head. “Nope.” He pointed at the phone. “That’s my woman. No way I can be wrong. I’ve never seen a woman with hair that blond in my life. Long curls that probably reach down her back when it’s not pulled up in a ponytail. I watched that hair swish back and forth while she continued down the road.”

  Caleb nodded. “Oh yeah,” he said sarcastically. “I can assure you it does reach down her back when it’s not in a ponytail because she wasn’t wearing one when I saw her at the store. Nor was she fucking running away from me.”

  A thick vein pulsed in Hunter’s forehead. The two of them had been best friends since birth. They’d rarely fought. They’d gone to school together all through elementary, high school, and college. They owned a business together for fuck’s sake.

  Sure, they’d had disagreements over the years, usually because Hunter wanted to do some crazy shit in high school like drive to another town in the middle of the night because he had a craving for fast food. Or there was the time Hunter brought a girl back to their dorm room and thought it was perfectly acceptable to kick Caleb out. That only happened once. Caleb laid into his friend for an hour the next day.

  This was different. Besides the fact that Hunter looked like he was two seconds from throwing a punch, a thought had crept into Caleb’s mind that wasn’t remotely pleasant. He met his friend’s glare. “What if she belongs to both of us?” he murmured.

  Hunter flinched, leaning back, his spine going straight. “No. Fuck no. I’m not sharing my goddamn mate with you. I love you, man. You’re my best friend in the world, but I draw the line at sharing a woman. That’s not us.”

  Caleb agreed, but he wasn’t the one who called the shots when it came to mates. Fate did that. She didn’t usually fuck it up either. Something was totally out of whack here. “I didn’t say I liked the idea. I simply pointed out the possibility.”

  “Well, the answer is no. Find another woman. I’m going to find that one and claim her.” He grabbed his beer bottle and tipped his head back to down the rest of the contents. Before it was empty, Caleb watched him stop swallowing. Hunter froze for several seconds and then jerked his head back to center, set the bottle on the table, and scanned the room.

  “What are you doing, man?” Caleb asked.

  Hunter’s gaze jerked all around. “She’s here.”

  “What?” Caleb twisted to look around too. “She can’t be. I don’t scent her.”

  “Ha. See. That’s because she’s not yours.”

  Caleb looked around again. There were no women in the bar with that blond hair. And no women caught the attention of his wolf at the moment either. Hunter had to be mistaken. He looked back at his friend. “Well? Where is she then?”

  Hunter shoved from the table, planting his feet on the floor. “Gone. I swear she was just here.”

  Now Caleb was getting pissed. “Are you trying to fuck with me?” He shot daggers at his friend as he too came to his feet.

  “No. But I’m about two seconds from taking a swing at you.”

  “You’ll never get the chance since I’m only a half a second from doing the same to you.” Caleb glanced around as a hush fell over the bar. People were staring at them. And these weren’t strangers. Caleb knew every single person in the bar.

  Royce, the bartender, shouted at them from across the room. “I don’t know what the fuck’s going on with you two but take it outside. If you break my furniture, I’m going to make you pay for it.”

  Caleb’s heart was beating rapidly. “Fine.”

  “Fine,” Hunter repeated. And then he stomped toward the entrance.

  Chapter 5

  February 3, 1965

  * * *

  Dear Mabel,

  * * *

  You’re getting married! On Valentine’s Day. That is so awesome. Mom said you don’t want anything fancy, so you’re going to the justice of the peace. You were always so practical. I envied that about you. Not that I’m frivolous, but I’m certainly less thrifty than you.

  I hope your day is amazing. Valentine’s Day will always be special. Hopefully it will snow the day before, blanketing Hyde Park in white and then not snow on your wedding day.

  I’ll be thinking of you fondly on February 14. Missing you as usual. Josiah and I will give a toast to you and George.

  * * *

  Love, Marge

  * * *

  The small hairs on the back of Elena’s neck stood on end as she walked toward the entrance to the bar with Layla at her side. The last thing she’d expected was a bar fight. Two huge grown men were literally taking swings at each other like a couple of oversized children.

  They were blocking the entrance, and Elena would have turned around and gotten back into the car if Layla hadn’t grabbed her hand and continued forward. “The one on the left is the man I saw while I was out jogging. Damn, he’s hot.”

  Elena shot her sister a glance. “Are you serious? He’s fighting.”

  Layla shrugged. “Who cares. That just makes him hotter.”

  Elena thought her sister had a screw loose. There was nothing sexy about men throwing punches. Although she did find herself smiling when the other guy, the one with green eyes and slightly lighter brown hair, bent at the waist and plowed into his friend.

  Somehow she sensed these two were friends. Not enemies. She couldn’t imagine why they were fighting, but neither of them was putting much power behind their swings. Not enough to really hurt the other one at least.

  Another swing from the darker haired man with the brown eyes. He was over six feet tall, about two inches taller than the guy now rubbing his jaw after taking another punch. They were dressed similarly. Both in jeans, boots, and henleys.

  Suddenly both men abruptly stopped and turned to face Elena and Layla. Elena had no idea how the men could have even noticed them yet as they approached from across the parking lot.

  It wasn’t unusual for the two women to draw attention. Not with their blond hair. The feature could be both a blessing and a curse. When sexy buff men stopped throwing punches to give appreciative looks, Elena didn’t mind so much. It gave a boost to her ego and made her hold her head higher. But there was a fine line. Cat calls pissed her right the fuck off. Being groped without permission also made her see flames. As long as all these guys did was look, she would enter the bar with a bit more pep in her step.

  Lucky for her, tonight was looking pretty good. She felt the gaze of the green-eyed man boring into her in particular. He and his friend had a similar look, and Elena had to admit Layla was right. Damn hot men lived in this town. Shifters or not.

  Elena glanced around inside the bar as they entered, spotted a high-top table and pointed it out. The noise level in the bar wasn’t too bad. Mostly just conversations and country western background music. It wasn’t so loud that the two of them wouldn’t be able to talk.

  Even though Elena had spent four hours in the car with Layla, she felt like they had a lo
t of catching up to do. She didn’t want to waste precious time in bars hitting on men. But bars were Layla’s gig, and Elena had always gone along with it. Today was no different. Now that they were here, Elena doubted they would get the chance to talk.

  As she passed by the bar, she felt the hairs on her arms stand up, and she turned her gaze to find an older man scowling at her as she passed. His eyes were furrowed, and he looked like he might lurch out of his chair and hurt someone. Though for some reason, she didn’t think he directed his ire at her specifically. He was just an angry old guy. Maybe he didn’t like out of towners. She jerked her attention toward the empty table and kept walking.

  No sooner had she and Layla gotten situated on their stools than the two men from outside approached. Elena sighed. She wasn’t in the mood for flirting. Hell, she wasn’t in the mood for drinking, dancing, or listening to music either.

  Layla was the extrovert. Elena would rather stay home with a good book or an old movie. Of course, that also meant Elena had dated far fewer men and didn’t have very many girlfriends.

  Layla nudged Elena with her elbow and whispered under her breath. “Those two guys are coming over here.”

  No shit. “I see that.”

  The slightly taller one with darker hair and brown eyes had a cocky grin on his face, and his gaze was on Layla. Not surprising. She always attracted more men and usually before she’d managed to order a drink.

  This was the guy she said she’d seen out jogging. However, there was no way he could know which sister he’d seen, so his instant attention on Layla was peculiar.

  Elena frowned. It was more than peculiar. It was downright strange. It made no sense at all. Sure, after people got to know the two of them, they could usually tell them apart, but that was because they had very different personalities and style. No way could this guy have an inkling about that yet. He hadn’t even exchanged words with Layla. Just a wave to a sweaty woman in jogging clothes.

  Granted, tonight Layla was wearing a tight, black, revealing dress and black heels. Elena was wearing black jeans, a black tank top, and a hot pink blouse unbuttoned. She never wore heels.

  Elena sensed the other man approaching her from the left a moment before a deep voice startled her. “Don’t mind my friend. When he sets his sights on someone, there’s no stopping him, but he’s harmless.”

  Elena jerked her attention toward the male voice. She had been so focused on the taller man’s illogical interest in Layla that she hadn’t noticed the other man circling around to her other side.

  She tipped her head back to look up at him, admitting to herself that referring to the brown-eyed guy as “taller” was absurd in comparison to her own five-four. The “shorter” guy was still six feet tall. Plus, he had those amazing green eyes.

  The “shorter” man held out his hand. “Sorry. That might have come out wrong. I’m Caleb.”

  She didn’t want to be rude, so she pasted on her polite face and forced a smile. Well, maybe forced was also an inaccurate description since he was seriously attractive. You’re not interested though. This isn’t a vacation. You’re here to sell a house. Nevertheless, she set her hand in his. “Elena.”

  A slow smile grew on his face. It reached his eyes, and the intensity in the way he looked at her made her squirm on her seat. In addition, he hadn’t released her hand yet, and the warmth in his touch seemed to send waves of pleasure through her body.

  She knew she was overanalyzing the situation, but that was what she always did. Something about Caleb calmed her. No, that wasn’t quite right because she felt a nervous energy that sent a feeling of restlessness through her body. Tension vibrated between them, while at the same time, she felt an inner peace.

  Yeah, she really needed to get her head out of the clouds and stop dissecting this unusual meeting. He was just a random guy who decided to flirt with her. Or perhaps he hadn’t had any interest in her at all. She’d certainly been down that road a hundred times.

  It happened every time Elena went out with Layla. Two guys would spot blond twins across the room and approach them like a homing beacon. Whichever guy was more outgoing, more jockish, more alpha, more of everything, inevitably claimed Layla before he spoke a single word.

  Granted, she was usually dressed more seductively, smiled openly at all approaching men, and then turned on the flirting. Elena sucked at all those things. She usually felt nothing but annoyance at approaching men. She never dressed to attract them, didn’t make eye contact, and hadn’t been born with the flirting DNA.

  None of those usual reasons were currently causing her to be so tongue tied. Instead, she found herself mesmerized by this Caleb. She shouldn’t be. He was only being polite. His friend’s wingman so to speak. She should be insulted.

  The problem was that Caleb didn’t look like he had been dragged over to meet her. He looked genuinely interested and pleased. His gaze hadn’t left hers yet, not even to check out the size of her breasts. Any guy who didn’t openly ogle her in the first five seconds could possibly be granted a second five seconds.

  Elena felt pulled into him through his eyes. That makes no sense, Elle.

  No further words had been spoken between them except to introduce themselves. She wasn’t sure how many seconds had ticked by, but he was still gripping her hand, and she didn’t mind.

  Suddenly, a thought made her flinch. She tugged her hand free and narrowed her gaze at him. “Are you a shifter?” she blurted out before she could stop herself. Jesus, Elle. What the hell is wrong with you?

  His smile lifted higher on one side.

  Elena slapped a hand over her face and lowered her gaze. “Sorry. That was rude.”

  Caleb set his hand on top of the one still resting on the table and squeezed gently. “It’s okay. I get that a lot. People are curious. I don’t mind. Yes, I am. Lupine. Does that bother you?”

  She lifted her face slowly, meeting his gaze again. Heat traveled up her chest and flushed her cheeks. She swallowed, trying to find her voice. “No.” One word. That’s all she could manage. What she needed was for the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

  He stepped closer and pulled her hand away from the table to press it against his chest. “Take a breath, Elena.” The way he said her name vibrated through her body. No one had ever spoken it quite like he did. As if he had a different accent or something. He said it reverently. Like he thought she was important.

  Once again, she tried to shake off the strange thoughts. Her gaze went to where her hand was pressed against his chest. She could feel his heart beating, while at the same time she became aware of her own. It seemed like their hearts beat in sync. Ridiculous of course.

  In order to break free of the strange trance, she forced herself to look over her shoulder. Her breath hitched when she realized Layla had disappeared. Not shocking, but stressful.

  “They’re on the dance floor,” Caleb told her, his mouth seemingly much closer to her ear than she’d expected.

  She looked back at him, catching him exploring her features. Still above the neck however. His gaze traveled all over her face. Studying her. Memorizing her?

  She shivered.

  He smiled. “Sorry. I’m making you uncomfortable.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t have to entertain me, you know. I’m a big girl. Layla dances with everyone. I’m used to it. I’m pretty sure she dragged me here tonight hoping to meet your friend. Apparently she saw him jogging. That doesn’t mean you should feel obligated to talk to me.” She was rambling, but she couldn’t stop herself. Thoughts were running rampant through her mind. “I’m not a very good conversationalist. I mean, I suck at it.”

  He was grinning at her, not making fun of her but amused.

  “Sorry. I’ll shut up now. I’m just saying… If you’d rather… I mean, my sister and I may look alike, but she’s the outgoing one. I’m the awkward one.”

  Caleb reached up with his free hand and fingered a lock of her hair before tucking it behind her ear.
“Maybe I’m the awkward one,” he suggested with the lift of a brow.

  She flinched and then let out an unladylike snort. “You can’t even begin to out-awkward me. All I’ve done so far is ramble.”

  “I find I like your rambling. Your voice is lyrical.”

  My voice is lyrical? What the hell does that mean?

  Elena narrowed her gaze at him. “Look, if you’re trying to hit on me, I’m not good at that either. Again, I may look like Layla—”

  Caleb shook his head. “Stop comparing yourself to your sister. I’m not.”

  “Wait… How did your friend know which one of us was the one he saw jogging?”

  Caleb grinned. “You smell different.”

  Her eyes went wide. “What?”

  He shrugged. “You already ascertained we are shifters. How much do you know about shifters?”

  Not enough apparently. She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  He chuckled and then lowered her hand from his chest to the table as he pulled another stool from under the table and took a seat. He set his forearm on the table, squaring himself with her. “No seriously. Tell me what you think you know. I love hearing what the outside world thinks of us. Am I the first shifter you’ve met?”

  “Yes.” She cringed, feeling as though she’d insulted him.

  He chuckled again. “I’m not judging you. I’m just curious. What’s the latest gossip?”

  She licked her lips. Should she tell this stranger all the probably incorrect misconceptions she had? What could it hurt? It wasn’t like she was ever going to see him again. Might as well humor him with her ignorance. “Let’s see… Well, you should know that most of my information came from my grandmother.”

  He cocked his head to one side. “Your grandmother?”