“Hang on—” she pushed at his shoulders. He drew back, watching her with that unusual golden gaze. Grace frowned. “You don’t like me.” Caleb grinned. “Aw, Gracie, come on. You can figure out werewolves, but you can’t figure this out?” “You were a jerk tonight.” His smile faded. “I—” He hesitated. His jaw clenched with resolve. “I was jealous,” he said flatly. “You were dancing with every man in the room, but you ran from me like—” “You make me nervous,” she blurted.
