11. Caleb
11
CALEB
T he community center buzzed with activity as pack members hung decorations and set up booths. Caleb watched Fiona direct traffic like a seasoned conductor, her red hair catching the sunlight streaming through the windows. She'd proven herself invaluable these past days, and he found himself admiring more than just her organizational skills.
"The art booth needs to go by the playground," Fiona called out. "We want the kids to have easy access."
"Since when are you an expert on wolf pup logistics?" Caleb asked.
"Since I organized three different wedding venues with kiddie corners." She flashed him a grin that made his chest tighten. "Trust me on this one, alpha."
"Don't call me that," he grumbled, but there was no heat behind it.
"Caleb!" A familiar voice rang out. His sister Sarah bounded over, her dark hair swinging. "Is this the famous Fiona I've been hearing about?"
Caleb suppressed a groan. Sarah had that look in her eye - the one that meant trouble.
"Famous?" Fiona raised an eyebrow.
"Oh yes," Sarah linked arms with her. "The witch who's whipped our community center into shape. And my brother into submission."
"I have not been whipped into-"
"The balloon arch goes over there," Fiona pointed, completely ignoring his protest.
Sarah laughed. "I like her already."
"You would," Caleb muttered, watching as his sister dragged Fiona off to chat. The two women fell into easy conversation as they discussed festival plans. He couldn't help noticing how Fiona's eyes crinkled when she laughed at something Sarah said.
"Your sister's wonderful," Fiona said later as they reviewed the booth layout. "Though she did share some interesting stories about you."
"Whatever she told you was a lie."
The next morning, Caleb watched Fiona arrange centerpieces on a table. Her fingers danced through the air as she adjusted each element with precise movements. He found himself mesmerized by the way she worked, her determination evident in every gesture.
"The flowers need to be red and gold," he said, clearing his throat. "Pack colors."
"Blue and silver would complement the evening lighting better." Fiona didn't look up from her work. "Besides, we want this to feel welcoming, not territorial."
"It's a pack event-"
"It's a community event," she corrected, finally meeting his gaze. "To show unity and strength, remember?"
The wolf in him bristled at being challenged, but something else - something deeper - recognized the wisdom in her words. "Fine. Blue and silver. But the banners stay red and gold."
"Deal." Her smile did strange things to his chest. "See? We can compromise."
"Don't get used to it," he muttered, but found himself fighting back a grin.
Over the next few days, their disagreements became less frequent, morphing into something unfamiliar to him. She'd challenge his ideas, he'd growl his protests, but somehow they'd end up meeting in the middle. It was... unsettling. He wasn't used to giving ground so easily.
"You're doing it again," Fiona said, breaking into his thoughts.
"Doing what?"
"That brooding alpha thing." She waved her hand at his face. "Your forehead gets all scrunchy when you're overthinking."
"I do not get scrunchy."
He caught himself rubbing his forehead and dropped his hand. "Shouldn't you be coordinating something?"
"Already done. The booth layout is set, the entertainment schedule is locked in, and I've got three different contingency plans for bad weather." She perched on the edge of her desk. "Face it, alpha. I'm good at what I do."
The proximity of her sent his wolf into a confusing spiral of instincts - guard, protect, claim. He pushed the thoughts away. "You're adequate."
"High praise indeed." She rolled her eyes, but her smile held genuine warmth. "Coming from you, that's practically a marriage proposal."
The joke hit too close to something he wasn't ready to examine. He stood abruptly, needing space. "I should check the security arrangements."
"Again? That's the third time today."
"Better safe than sorry."
"Mm-hmm." She gave him a knowing look that suggested she saw right through him. "Whatever you say."
Caleb leaned against the doorframe of the community center's main hall, watching Fiona and Sarah sort through talent show applications. The late afternoon sun streaming through the windows caught Fiona's hair again. It created a halo of copper and gold that made his fingers itch to touch it.
"No way are we letting Tommy do his howling impression," Sarah said, waving a paper. "Remember last year at the winter carnival?"
"What happened last year?" Fiona looked up, her green eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"He broke three windows." Caleb pushed off the wall and joined them. "The vibrations were that bad."
Fiona laughed, the sound warming something in Caleb's chest. "What about Angela's dance routine?"
"Perfect opener." Sarah nodded. "Though someone needs to tell her the butterfly wings are optional."
"I'll handle that conversation." Fiona made a note, her tongue catching between her teeth as she concentrated. The simple gesture shouldn't have been so distracting, but Caleb found himself staring.
"Earth to big brother." Sarah snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Any other acts you want to veto?"
He cleared his throat. "Just make sure nobody sets anything on fire."
"Hey now," Fiona said, not looking up from her notes. "The kids wanted to see real magic yesterday." She shrugged. "Besides, your expression was well worth it."
Sarah snorted. "He did look particularly constipated."
"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Caleb growled at his sister.
"Nope." Sarah popped the 'p'. "This is way more entertaining."
Fiona's laughter joined Sarah's, and Caleb found himself fighting back a smile. The sound of their joy, the way Fiona had seamlessly integrated herself into pack life, the casual way she teased him - it all felt… right.
Caleb found himself lingering in Fiona's office more often than necessary as the festival quickly approached. Today, she sat cross-legged in her chair, a half-eaten sandwich forgotten on her desk as she regaled him with stories from her wedding planning days. A pleasant change of topic from the usual business chatter.
The afternoon sun painted shadows across her desk, and Caleb caught himself tracking the movement of her hands as she talked. His wolf stirred contentedly whenever she was near now, something that both worried and intrigued him.
"Your turn," she said, propping her chin on her hand. "Tell me something that doesn't involve pack politics or security protocols."
"I make a mean chili."
"Really?" Her eyebrows shot up. "The big bad alpha cooks too?"
"The big bad alpha likes to eat." He settled into the chair across from her. "My mom taught me before she passed. Said no son of hers would survive on takeout alone."
Something soft crossed Fiona's face. "She sounds wonderful."
"She was." The words came easier than expected. "She'd have liked you. Probably would've appreciated someone else calling me out on my bullheaded moments."
"Bullheaded? You?" Fiona pressed her hand to her chest in mock shock. "I'm shocked."
Their laughter mingled in the small space. Caleb noticed they'd both been leaning forward, the distance between them shrinking. The scent of cinnamon and woodsmoke that always surrounded her filled his senses.
"You've got..." He reached out without thinking, brushing a crumb from the corner of her mouth. The contact sent a jolt through his fingers.
Fiona's breath caught. For a moment, neither moved.
Then Wade's voice boomed from the hallway, shattering the moment. "Boss! Got those security reports you wanted!"
Caleb pulled back, clearing his throat. "I should..."
"Yeah," Fiona said abruptly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Go do your alpha thing."
He stood, trying to ignore how his skin still tingled where it had touched hers. "Same time tomorrow?"
"Wouldn't miss it." She quickly started scribbling notes again.
Caleb balanced two coffee cups as he navigated the quiet halls of the community center. His wolf senses picked up Fiona's sweet scent before he reached her office. The door stood half-open, warm light spilling into the darkened corridor.
She sat hunched over her desk, red hair falling forward as she scribbled notes. His chest tightened at the sight of her working so late to help his pack.
"You're going to strain your eyes," he said, stepping inside.
Fiona looked up, her tired expression brightening. "My hero." She made grabby hands at the coffee. "Please tell me that's for me."
"No, I just brought two for myself." He set one cup in front of her. "Thought you might need the caffeine boost."
"Mmm." She inhaled the steam. "You remembered how I take it."
"Hard to forget when you lecture me about it every morning." He settled into the chair across from her desk, watching as she took a sip. "Two pumps vanilla, splash of cream, judgment for anyone who drinks it black."
"Because black coffee is for masochists." She pointed at his cup. "Like you."
"Some of us appreciate coffee in its pure form."
"Some of us are wrong."
The quiet laughter they shared felt intimate in the late-night stillness. The moon cast long shadows through the window, and Caleb found himself studying how it painted silver highlights in Fiona's hair.
"You don't have to stay, you know," she said. "I've got this handled."
"I know." He took a slow drink of coffee. "Maybe I want to."
"Oh?"
The word hung between them, full of possibility. His wolf stirred, urging him closer. Instead, he leaned back, aiming for casual. "Someone has to make sure you don't fall asleep at your desk."
"That was one time."
"Three times."
"The third time doesn't count. I was just resting my eyes."
"You were snoring."
"I do not snore." She threw a paper clip at him. "Take that back."
He caught it easily, grinning. "Make me."
The challenge in her eyes made his pulse quicken. For a moment, he thought she might actually try. Then she laughed and returned to her work, but something had shifted in the air between them. Something electric and promising.
Caleb settled deeper into his chair, content to watch her work and savor these quiet moments before tomorrow's chaos.