Page 28 of Bride of Choice

“I have to deliver this!” I bellowed, clutching my basket to me tight.

“No,” he said simply, like he had some kinda freaking say. Bossy… overbearing…

“I have to!” I insisted, squirming to get out of his arms to the point he nearly dropped me.

A large hand cracked across my ass, causing me to gasp, then growl.

“Soon,” I thought I heard him mutter under his breath as he inhaled my scent.

“Like fuck, fock sucket! I mean, pock fucket- I mean- Grrr! Damn it, you know what I mean!” I barked, to Rek’s sudden, loud, boisterous laughter.

“It’s not that funny,” I muttered as I forced my own laughter back. My lips pinched, pursed, to keep my smile pinned into a frown.

“Where take foods?” he finally asked, eyeing me.

“Rosa’s,” I admitted, glancing anywhere but at him.

“Rosie-lindly’s?” His loud gulp was audible, the rumble he let out, pleased with this information, made my stomach churn.

“Don’t get all excited, you raggedy sock monkey. She doesn’t even like you.” My cheeks burned at just how petty and prissy I sounded, the addition of him being able to smell just how jealous I was at the thought of him getting all gaga over Rosa, deepening my humiliation.

“No want my Jojo cudzin,” he said seriously, scowling instead of gloating like I’d been expecting.

“Sure do purr a lot for someone who doesn’t,” I added under my breath, again looking anywhere but at him.

“Jojomine…” he rumbled out softly.

I didn’t need this right now. Weeks and weeks and weeks, we’ve been doing this dance. When would I fucking give up? When would he? “Look, I have shit to do so I can go ice my ass. I don’t need-”

My basket was jerked from my hands, shoved over a furry arm, a gruffly commanded, “Shuts up. We go,” softly snapped at me, and we were on our way.

“You’d just love that, wouldn’t you?” I muttered as I folded my arms over my chest and scowled at the tips of my boots. “Say, what happened when Kirch realized you’d skipped out on your dude’s trip and came crawling back to me? How’d that go?”

“No jellies. Rek no want Rose-hop-blindly. Rek wants Jojo-knee,” he swore. If he didn’t sound so put out I’d have thought it a sweet reassurance. “No more ask males play woo my Jojo. Rek no likes it,” he added with a heated look my way. “Jojo no want dems. No play with males. Make grumblies.”

My cheeks blushed so hard it hurt. So he’d figured that out, had he? Lovely. I couldn’t pretend to be somewhere else or ask some Yeti to pretend to woo me, without his knowledge. It kinda put a big ol’ dent in my half-baked scheme to get him jealous enough to cave and accept me as I am, profess his undying love for me, give my ring back so I could give it to him all proper like and shit, and we’d live happily, heckling the shit out of each other as it suited us, make up sex galore, ever after.

Pfft. In my dreams.

Only in my dreams if he thought this shit was all perfectly normal. Wearing me down, hoping I’ll cave, that’s all I was going to get from him.

Oh, how far I’ve fallen.

Did that make me any better than him that I was slipping into his pattern of stupid schemes?

Shame hit me like a ton of bricks.

Fuck.

“I don’t know why I thought to try, it’s not like you care,” I haughtily huffed and puffed.

“Rek care,” he snapped at me, shooting death glares my way that I would even say such a thing.

“I want my ring back, stalker,” I snapped right back.

“Rek ates it. My Jojo wants it? Comes and gets it, boobs,” he snarked back, set me down, then turned to wiggle his ass at me.

“Boobs?” I blurted, struggling not to burst out laughing. If he’d actually eaten that ring, I’d eat my lipstick. So full of crap. And, “Boobs?”

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