Page 16 of Married to My Grumpy Minotaur Boss

Everyone beams at me.

I sigh.

Cedric fixes me with a knowing smirk. “You may now kiss the bride.”

What?

Why didn’t I realize there would be kissing?

I’m still struggling to figure out how to navigate this moment when Justine steps forward. Looking up at me with a shy smile, her pale cheeks are flushed an adorable pink.

I can’t refuse. Look at her. She’s so fucking hopeful.

Making a quick calculation, I lean in, intending to brush my lips against her cheek. Surely, this is within the realmsof acceptable under the circumstances. All the way down I’m thinking about the hernia Chester in HR will be having when he gets wind of this.

Then my lips contact her silken skin, her scent fills my nostrils, and there is absolutely nothing in my head at all.

What is it about this girl? She’s fucking dangerous. More so because she doesn’t seem to know it, and that’s like kryptonite to me. Hell, I didn’t know it until a moment ago.

I linger for far too long. Until it gets weird. I know it, but I can’t pull away. My head is spinning.

Finally, I drag myself back and look away. My tail flicks against my leg.

The scene wraps and I’m handed a folding stool and a coffee. “Great. How did that feel?”

“Uh... fine.” My mind is still strangely numb, like I’m listening through a wall of water.

Gary, the assistant producer, rolls his hands in front of him to indicate I should elaborate on my answer.

“Felt great. Really... great.” I don’t know what to say. I’m struggling to say something nice, without being far too honest. Because the honest truth is I feel like I’ve been socked in the guts.

“What do you think of Justine?”

I freeze in the lights, swallowing down a mouthful of nerves with a gulp of coffee. “She’s... great.”

A look of frustration builds in Gary’s folded arms and I sigh. “She looks beautiful. I wasn’t expecting her to look so good.”

It’s the honest truth. It also appears to be what they were after. Gary smiles and nods. They ask me only a hundred more infuriating versions of the same questions and I’m handed a sickly sweet muffin I don’t want to eat. I glance over to where Justine has been positioned on another folding stool across the other side of the beach and watch her answering questionsanimatedly. She looks like she’s having a fucking field day. Of course she is. She loves this show.

At least someone’s dreams are coming true today.

God, she’s adorable. I hate that this is the first thing that springs into my mind as I watch her. I scowl into my coffee and hope the board are satisfied after this. It’s eleven-thirty in the morning already! I could have had several meetings and cleared my emails by now. Instead, we must have filmed ten minutes worth of footage. Not to mention this is a really, really bad idea.

I gingerly set the muffin on the napkin in the sand and brush my sticky fingers on my thigh before massaging the base of my horns.

An hour later, we’re led into a large gazebo tent facing the ocean where a table laid with a white tablecloth and pretty white china is set for us.

More food. Hopefully there’s something I can stomach this time.

I’m sweating like a swamp monster in the heat, so I take the opportunity to remove the ridiculous formal jacket they had me wear and set it over the back of my seat. At least there’s shade in the tent and a slight breeze off the ocean.

I grab the glass from the table as I sit and gulp down half the contents in one go. Justine sits beside me. She looks just as perfect as she did when she stepped off the boat, so I guess the heat’s not bothering her.

“There’s conversation prompts on those cards.” She picks one off a pile in the middle of the table and hands it to me with an apologetic look. “The producer said we might want to use them. To make this easier.”

I’m silent.

“This is the part where we’re supposed to get to know each other,” she prompts me.

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