“You think I’m hot?” I ask, half teasing, half breathless. “And yet you’re still rejecting me? Wow. I’m not sure what’s worse.”
He runs a hand through his hair, looking pained, like he’s doing battle with his own instincts.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “I’m messing this up.”
I cross my arms, cocking a hip. “You think?”
“It’s just—” He looks at me again, raw and frustrated. “I’m too busy with work for a mate. I don’t do holidays. And no, before you ask, I don’t even date.”
The words sting more than I want to admit.
There it is again—that tight, familiar ache that comes with being too much for someone before they’ve even tried.
So I smile, sweet and brittle as spun sugar.
“Well, good thing I’m not in the business of begging men with scheduling conflicts to love me,” I say lightly. “Now, would you like a cookie, Mr. Rogers? Sorry, I mean Eb. But to be honest, calling you Mr. Rogers might have just unlocked a kink I didn’t know I had. Anyway,” I continue despite his startled gasp, “maybe you want I should just pack your emotional baggage to go?”
His mouth opens, then shuts.
And it seems to me that, for once, the big bad CEO has no words.
Me, on the other hand? I feel a little bit like I’ve just won a round against Wall Street.
Even if my heart’s the one paying interest.
“Marigold, I-I’m sorry?—”
My chest squeezes a little, but I keep my tone light.
“Got it. No time for romance. Or Christmas. Mr. Scrooge strikes again.”
He flinches, and I might’ve felt bad if my pride wasn’t already packing its bags.
“Look, it’s fine,” I continue breezily. “If you can just click whatever button magically releases me from whatever this mate-of-the-moment nonsense is, I’ll move on to the next guy, and you won’t hear from me again.”
His whole face changes.
“Next guy?” he repeats, sounding offended. “What next guy? Did the app set you up with someone else?”
“Not yet. But from the model, I’m guessing it will,” I reply with a shrug.
“Is there—I mean, who exactly do you want to date?”
I blink at him, then laugh.
“Uh, literally anyone who doesn’t sound like he’s negotiating a business merger while dumping me.”
For a second, something dangerous flashes in his eyes.
Possessive. Primal. Almost animal.
I shake it off, rolling my eyes.
“Look, this app is totally wonky. It claims its users are all supernatural creatures, and I’m just not buying it. I might get visions sometimes, but what are the odds you actually turn into a Badger?”
I snort, waving a hand. “Come on. You? You’re like CEO hot. Not claws-and-fangs hot.”
He doesn’t smile.
