Page 52 of Bride of Choice

“Jo stay Gofur,” Gopher grunted out.

A spark of hope lit within me, but too many life lessons learned had me tamping that shit down, hard, real quick. “You’re okay with that?” I asked, wriggling to glance up at him, gently pinned down as I was.

I could struggle or demand he let me up. I was pretty sure he’d let me go but I didn’t honestly want to find out. The fool did realize he was all but claiming me in front of Dorothy, which might as well be in front of everyone?

“Jo stay Gofur,” he repeated, just as firmly as before.

Pursing my lips to pinch in the smile threatening to burst free, I shrugged nonchalantly and tossed out casually as I fingered the gems dangling from my wrist, “I mean… if you really want me to… You know, if you insist or whatever.”

“Go’ sist,” he rumbled out grumpily.

My smile broke loose then, hurting my face as it did so.

Not even the cat that got the canary look on Dorothy’s face could dampen my happiness. She could take credit for putting this all together all she liked. What was it to me? I got my Gopher and that was all that mattered.

He insisted. He wanted me with him. He wanted to help keep me safe.

Was it silly to let such a tiny thing give me a buttload of hope? Maybe. I couldn’t help it, though.

He’d come for me, had openly declared I was his, and was as we speak demanding I go stay in his hut with him.

Thinking of the mark on my neck, all I needed was a mating pelt and I was as good as claimed by his ass. I practically had a real, gen-u-ine mate!

“I dunno,” I mumbled, like I needed to think about it. “Will there be cookies?” I asked in feigned indifference.

“Yes,” he grumbled out, the displeased noise rumbling from him, vibrating my back, had me grinning like a loon, glad he couldn’t see it.

Dorothy, watching the byplay, quickly hopped up and turned away, busying herself as if something behind her suddenly needed a heaping of dusting.

“Tea?” I pressed.

“Yes,” he growled out a little louder, longer.

“Snuggles?” I lowered my voice to whisper very softly the second Dorothy left the room with suspiciously shaking shoulders and funny noises leaving her.

“Yesss,” he’d started to say, a choked noise replacing what would have been his empathic reply. “Jo,” he garbled out, sounding uneasy.

Was it because I’d asked for cuddles? Because I’d said it at his childhood friends’ house, or…?

My hopes started to feel dashed, that weird, sinking feeling of despair rushing in on me, when Gopher paused in his start-stop garbled faltering and leaned in. One deep sniff of the top of my head and he groaned, sounding like I’d just hurt him.

“My Jo,” he murmured softly.

Forcing me to face him, adjusting me in his lap despite my protests to accomplish the feat, the male had my chin cupped in his surprisingly strong hands, forcing me to meet that pretty, beryl blue gaze. That blue to black thing, it was like the switch flipped on as easily as it switched off.

Hard as I tried, I was too emotional, in pain, and fucking tired, emotionally and physically, to put up a believable front. “A girl needs her snuggles,” I croaked out, hating the way my voice broke on the words. I’m a strong, independent woman that doesn’t need a man. But… I wanted this beastly guy something awful.

“Jo.” My name left his lips on a soft exhalation.

The ball was in Gopher’s court, his lips so close he only needed to close the short distance between us to get this shit rolling.

My heart lurched when his breath coasted over my face, my eyes started to slip closed, there was a tentative brush of his lips, barely touching mine but sending my nerves into a riot as if he’d landed a whopper on me, for the hot and cold beast to stall out on making something good out of this thing. My hooded gaze fell, slipping into wide-eyed worry. That anticipation slipped into anxiety, threatening to kill the moment entirely.

The longer we sat there in this strange stalemate of sorts, his telling pauses cracking that shriveled lump in my chest, the taller those walls I’d been trying my damnedest not to put back up between us, give his furry arse a chance, grew. I knew it wasn’t me, much as I felt like it was in the heat of the moment, before I’d had time to process what all was going on.

He was scared, worried he might hurt me. That much was obvious, whatever the cause. But I trusted Gopher. Trusted him with this stupid lump in my chest beating wildly for him he was sending fissures splintering through.

“You bail on kissing me, Gogo boots, I’m going to kick your ass-” I muttered.

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