Page 9 of Howl You Doin'

A few snickers broke out among the group before they shuffled toward the court. Small victories. She'd take them.

"You shouldn't antagonize them." Caleb materialized beside her desk like a particularly broody ninja.

"I wasn't antagonizing. I was... encouraging physical activity through gentle sarcasm." She pulled up the month's schedule on her laptop. "Speaking of activity, the yoga instructor called in sick. Again."

"And?"

"And I can fill in if that’s okay. I'm certified."

His eyebrows shot up. "You teach yoga?"

"Don't look so shocked.Even us witches need to stay limber." She winked at him, delighting in the way he almost - almost - cracked a smile. "Unless you'd rather disappoint Mrs. Peterson? She's been talking about her hip all week."

"Fine. But I'll be watching."

"You always are." She gathered her hair into a ponytail, ignoring the warmth that crept up her neck under his steady gaze. "Though if you're going to lurk, you might as well participate. Those shoulders look like they could use some stretching."

"I don't do yoga."

"Afraid you can't keep up with Mrs. Peterson?"

His eyes narrowed, but there was that ghost of a smile again. Progress. She'd been collecting those almost-smiles like trading cards these past few days.

After yoga class, the day continued in its usual rhythm of spreadsheets, community questions, and dodging Caleb's watchful presence. Between organizing the weekend potluck and mediating a dispute over pickle ball court time, Fiona found herself settling into a comfortable groove at the community center.

The afternoon sun streamed through the community center's windows, casting long shadows across the polished floor. Fiona's fingers flew across her keyboard, organizing next week's schedule when a gentle tap on her desk drew her attention.

An elderly man with silver hair and laugh lines around his eyes stood before her, leaning on a wooden cane carved with intricate wolf designs.

"Excuse me, dear. These old eyes can't read the activity board anymore. Could you tell me when the chess club meets?"

"Of course." Fiona pulled up the schedule. "It's Thursdays at two. Would you like me to write it down for you?"

"No need.The memory's still sharp, even if the eyes aren't." He chuckled, the sound warm and rich. "I'm Emmett, by the way. Been part of this pack longer than most of these pups have been alive."

"Fiona Ashwood." She gestured to the chair beside her desk. "Would you like to sit? I just made a fresh pot of coffee."

"Don't mind if I do." Emmett settled into the chair with a contented sigh. "You're doing good work here, you know. Place hasn't run this smooth in years."

Heat crept into her cheeks. "Tell that to the teenagers who look at me like I'm going to hex their basketball."

"Ah, they'll come around soon enough." Emmett's eyes twinkled. "Wolves are creatures of habit. We don't much like change, but loyalty..." He tapped his cane against the floor. "Loyalty always wins out in the end."

"Even for a fire witch?"

"Especially for someone who cares enough to organize Mrs. Peterson's water aerobics class around her grandson's soccer practice." He winked. "Word gets around here fast."

Fiona laughed, warmth spreading through her chest that had nothing to do with her magic. "I just want to help."

"And that's exactly why they'll come around." Emmett pushed himself to his feet. "Now, how about that coffee you mentioned?"

As Fiona poured two cups, adding cream to Emmett's per his request, she felt some of the tension she'd been carrying ease. Maybe she didn't need everyone's approval right away. Maybe,like the gentle turning of seasons, acceptance would come in its own time.

The evening suncast shadows across Fiona's desk as she reviewed contractor quotes on her laptop. A familiar woodsy scent hit her nose seconds before Caleb's reflection appeared in her screen. Her heart did that annoying little skip it always did when he showed up unannounced.

"Still here?" He leaned against her desk, his dark hair slightly tousled like he'd been running his hands through it.

Fiona kept her eyes fixed on the screen, pretending the way his henley stretched across his shoulders wasn't completely distracting. "Some of us actually do work instead of prowling around looking mysterious."

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