Page 10 of Choosing the Rejected Mate

Mate.Ours.Touch.Claim.Keep.

No.I lock every muscle in my body and force myself not to move.Her smile fades a little when she sees whatever crosses my face.Fear flickers through her scent so fast it nearly guts me.

I lift both hands again, palms open.“I’m good.”

“You don’t look good.”

“Thank you.That’s exactly what every man wants to hear.”

Her lips twitch, but the tension stays.“You looked...”

“Wolfish?”

“Hungry.”

Well ...that is inconveniently accurate.I swallow, my throat tight.“I am hungry.”Her eyes narrow.“For breakfast,” I add quickly.

The bakery goes very quiet again.Holly stares at me before she bursts out laughing.It’s not graceful or soft.It’s loud enough that Maisie looks over from the espresso machine with wide eyes.

And Goddess help me, I want to hear that sound every day.

“That was terrible,” Holly says, still laughing.

“I panicked,” I admit.

“I noticed.”

“I’m usually smoother.”

“No, you’re not.”She shakes her head, still smiling.

“You don’t know that.”

“I have instincts.”

“Your instincts are mean,” I point out.

“My instincts have kept me alive.”

The laughter fades too quickly after that.There it is again.The past standing between us like a third person neither of us invited.

I nod slowly.“Then we listen to them.”

Her brows pull together.“What does that mean?”

“It means if your instincts say step back, you step back.If they say stop, we stop.If they say Daniel Reed is too handsome to be trusted, then obviously your instincts are only half right because I’m extremely trustworthy.”

She blinks at me, and I hold her stare.

“That was almost sweet,” she says.“Then you ruined it.”

“I do that sometimes.”

“Good to know.”

I lean one hip against the counter, keeping distance between us even though every part of me hates it.“What happened to you, Holly?”

The question leaves my mouth before I can stop it.Her face shutters, immediately.Complete.And the temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees.