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Heat rushes up my neck.
“Rrr-ow.”
And it plummets—like nausea—into my stomach, which falls promptly to my toes. “Never do that again.”
“Might I do the proper boyfriend thing and put the necklace on you?”
My eyes narrow. I’m waiting for the cash he sent me to clear in my account, but it is incoming. He’s paying a lot of money for a girlfriend experience. Which was one hundred percent a terrible financial decision on his part, yet I’m the one stuck feeling mildly guilt-ridden.
Sighing, I step back, turn, and tilt my head forward to pull my short hair fully off my neck. “Do you need me for your seven o’clock, or should I stay here and sort through emails?”
“You can sort through emails on your pad while I get you breakfast.” His arms come around me, and the tiny pumpkin falls against my chest.
For some inexplicable reason, my heart rate kicks up. “I think I’d prefer to stay here and starve.”
The chain touches my throat. “Unfiltered Marcella is my favorite thing. Have you been internally this hateful for the past two months?”
“Ye—” His fingers fiddle with the clasp, tickling cold metal against me.
I jerk forward, choke myself for a second, then watch the tiny pumpkin charm fly across the room.
Straight into the koi pond.
My mouth drops open.
“Are you all right?” he who shall not be named asks me.
My shoulders bunch as I ease around, find the loose chain dangling from his fingers. “I’m so sorry,” I exhale. “I…I didn’t mean to do that.” I fight down a swallow. “H-how much did that cost?”
His eyes widen before an unnerving smile curls his lips. “Only a couple hundred. Don’t worry about it.”
“A couple hundred,” I choke. “Do you know how many Publix cakes you could get with that? Several small ones. And like two big ones.”
“That sounds like tomorrow’s gift idea.”
“Don’t you dare get me a gift every day.” I throw a finger toward the koi pond. “Clearly, I am a hazard, and I cannot be trusted around nice things.”
His hand lifts and lands atop my head. My eyes twitches as he pats. If I weren’t in shock, the weight of his gentle pat-patting would make me violent. “Don’t worry about it, pumpkin. I got it off Etsy. Small seller. They were more than happy to rush order it and let one of my employees pick it up to fly here on a private jet. I’ll just request another one and have it replaced by the weekend.”
“No. I do not need it that badly. At all, actually.”
“You’re being a bad gold digger again.”
“I’m being an exemplary girlfriend. You should be honored.” What am I saying?
He chuckles. “I am.” Lifting a finger, he touches his neck. “Per chance are you sensitive around here?”
“Maybe,” I snap. Maybe I’m sensitive around everywhere. And maybe that’s why my parents tell me I used to hit kids for touching me when I was growing up.
“Can’t stand tight shirts or turtlenecks?” he prompts.
“Turtlenecks are knitted in hell, by the devil. Change my mind.”
“Can’t. I agree.”
“You’re going to be late for your breakfast. I’m staying here to sort through emails and wallow in self-loathing.”
He bites his lip. “An excellent pastime. I look forward to a report on how it went when I return, with some takeout for you. Are pancakes okay?”
