Page 56
Story: Fated Despite the Moon
It wasn't the answer she'd hoped for, but it was the one she'd expected.
"And what about my baby? Will my baby be accepted as one of your own? Like any of the kids Caleb and I might have?"
Her chest squeezed waiting for the answer.
Jeremiah walked forward and crouched in front of her. "Your father was the best friend I ever had. Even though miles separated us these last years, our hearts were as close as ever. All I ever wanted was for Simon to be my brother by blood. Now that he's gone, it would be an honor for his daughter and his grandchild to be my daughter and my grandchild."
Tears welled in Makayla's eyes. Jeremiah reached out and squeezed her hand.
"Thank you," she whispered. It was as if her father was smiling down at her again. She'd not felt so close to him since losing him, but in that instant, she felt like she might actually have found the thing she missed most since his death—a family.
Caleb appeared behind his dad, shaking water out of his hair. "Everything okay?"
Jeremiah smiled and stood. He clapped his son on the shoulder. "I was just telling Makayla that I think the two of you should be mated before the baby is born."
Caleb's gaze drifted to her. "Is that what you want?"
All eyes were on her. The decision she made now could move them forward or tear them apart.
A moment passed, and her wolf practically forced the words from her lips. "It is. If it’s what you want."
The smile that lit up Caleb face changed his entire demeanor. He walked to her and knelt in front of her.
His cool palm cupped her cheek as his deep, soulful eyes looked into hers. “It is what I want.”
She pressed a kiss into his palm, and at the same moment the baby squirmed inside her.
The day passedwith Makayla meeting almost every person at the lake. Those who had once greeted her with suspicion now greeted her almost as if she were one of them. Every person who ate her pies or cakes raved about how amazing they were and how hard it was to find great baked goods in Wolf River. The praise both embarrassed and got her that much closer to telling Caleb the idea she had been tossing around.
She met Stix and Satia and played with their son Andre. She watched as he toddled between Stix and Caleb, playing ball and then going out in the water with Satia where the woman taught him to swim. All in all the day was like none other. Unlike when she used to go out with her friends and party, there were no fights, no cattiness, no stumbling drunk friends in need of a ride home, and no expectations for her to pay. All of which made her more relaxed than she'd ever been. Watching Caleb and spending time with him at the lake talking and hanging out made her see a side of him she'd had yet to be introduced to. He goofed around and laughed, shedding his reserved demeanor. She vaguely remembered him like that as a boy. Carefree. Funny. But over the years things must have changed, and he’d become more aloof.
She sat on a rock, dipping her feet in the cool lake when Dakota sat next to her.
"Oh man, getting up and down is getting harder and harder now."
Makayla looked at Dakota's enormous belly that poked out underneath her large navy t-shirt. "Not much longer now, right?"
Dakota shook her head. "Three weeks, but I'm hoping to go sooner." She rubbed her belly. "This little guy is definitely ready to be out. He's getting so crowded in there that I think he's constantly using my bladder as a pillow."
Makayla chuckled. "I am not looking forward to that part."
"It'll be here before you know it. Have you started working on the baby room yet?"
"I didn't know there was one."
Dakota shielded her eyes, looking at Makayla. "It's right next to Caleb's room. Haven't you seen it?"
Makayla shook her head.
"That's weird. Caleb has had stuff in there for months. His old cradle and baby blanket. A crib he found at an antique store. I think your mom even sent something up."
"My mom?"
"Yeah. I remember Griffin helping him pick it up."
Makayla's chest squeezed. Why hadn't he told her any of that?
Water splashed at them, and Makayla ducked away.
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