After being publicly rejected by the mate destined for her, she spent years rebuilding her life, one cupcake, one customer, and one hard-earned dream at a time. Sweetique Bakery is hers, and she's determined to never let anyone break her heart again.
Then a broken mixer brings Daniel Reed to her door. The town's handsome handyman is everything Holly doesn't need… patient, protective, and impossible to ignore. Worse, he's her second-chance mate.
Daniel knows the bond between them is real, but he refuses to claim what Holly isn't ready to give. Instead, he offers friendship, laughter, and the freedom to choose for herself.
As old wounds begin to heal and an undeniable attraction grows into something deeper, Holly must decide if she's brave enough to trust again.
Because fate may have chosen her mate... But this time, Holly gets to do the choosing.
Excerpt:
Daniel follows, and Maisie gives me a thumbs-up from behind the counter. I show her one finger, and she beams like I have blessed her.
Daniel pulls out the chair across from me, then pauses like he’s not sure whether the gesture will annoy me. It does, but it also does not.
I stare at him for a second, then sit. “Don’t make a thing of it,” I say.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“You’re absolutely dreaming of it.”
“Every man needs a dream,” he says softly.
“Dreaming is a terrible quality in a man,” I counter.
“Noted,” he deadpans.
He sits across from me, and the table suddenly seems too small. His knees almost brush mine underneath. Almost. That word is becoming a theme, and I don’t appreciate it. He opens the bag and pulls out containers.
Chicken salad. Fresh rolls. Fruit. Two slices of chocolate cake.
My gaze snaps to his. “Where did you get cake?”
“From the diner.”
I stare at him in horror. “You brought diner cake into my bakery?” I hiss in accusation.
His eyes widen. “Was that wrong?”
“That is like bringing a stray cat into a wolf den!”
“I didn’t know.” He looks chagrined.
“It’s dry, isn’t it?”
“I haven’t tried it.”
“It’s always dry. That cake tastes like sadness and poor choices.”
He slowly pushes the cake aside. “I apologize.”
“You should.”
“I’ll do better.”
“You will not bring outside cake into my house again.”
“Your house?” he asks with a quirked brow.
“My bakery. Same thing.”
His gaze moves around the space, taking in the shelves, the chalkboard, the jars of cookies, the window boxes full of lavender. When he looks back at me, his expression is quieter.
“It feels like you,” he says.
I pretend to be very busy opening a container. “You don’t know me.”
“I know.”
“Then how would you know what feels like me?”
“I don’t know all of you,” he says. “But I know this place is warm, stubborn, pretty, and a little dangerous if handled wrong.”
I pause with my fork halfway to my mouth, and my heart does that flipping thing again.
Rude damn organ.
“That was almost smooth,” I say.
“I’m improving.”
“Don’t get cocky.” I point my fork at him.
“I make no promises.”
We eat, and it’s shockingly easy. That bothers me.
I expected awkwardness. I expect the bond to sit between us like a panting wolf with no manners. It is there, of course. I feel it every time Daniel reaches for his drink, every time his fingers flex around the fork, every time his eyes linger on my mouth.
But he talks about normal things. The porch swing he fixed for Mrs. Bell. The library door that sticks when it rains. The fact that Mr. Phelps pretended not to need help carrying feed bags, then nearly fell into the display of garden gnomes at the hardware store.
I laugh more than I mean to. Daniel is funny in a dry, understated way. He does not perform for attention. He says ridiculous things like they are facts and lets me decide whether to smile.
It’s unfairly effective.
“So,” I say after a while, because letting him ask all the gentle questions feels too vulnerable. “Why a handyman?”
His shoulder lifts. “I’m good at fixing things.”
“That sounds like a line.”
His smile fades at the edges. “I moved around a lot. Packs always need someone who can repair a roof, wire a barn, rebuild a fence. Being useful gets you fed.”
The words are casual, but the scent beneath them is not. Loneliness has a scent too. Not like pity. Not sour but more hollow. Like cold air moving through an empty room.
My chest tightens. “You don’t have a pack?” I ask.
“Not anymore.”
“Is that by choice?”
“Mostly.”
“That is not an answer.”
“No,” he says. “It’s an answer that needs more time.”
That’s fair. I gave him less than that yesterday. So I nod and don’t push.
{"num_reviews":0,"add_this":[{"service":"facebook","annotation":""},{"service":"email","annotation":""},{"service":"print","annotation":""},{"service":"twitter","annotation":""}],"gtin":null,"id":3666,"can_purchase":true,"meta_description":"","category":["Erotic ","Paranormal","Shifters\u002fVampires","Series Moon Bound Mates"],"AddThisServiceButtonMeta":"","main_image":{"data":"https:\u002f\u002fcdn11.bigcommerce.com\u002fs-21532\u002fimages\u002fstencil\u002f{:size}\u002fproducts\u002f3666\u002f3952\u002fchoosingrejectedmate1l__49724.1786073148.jpg?c=2","alt":"Genre: Erotic Paranormal Romance\n\nHeat Level: 3\n\nWord Count: 34, 500\n\nISBN: 978-0-3695-1514-8\n\nEditor: Jessica Leonie\n\nCover Artist: Jay Aheer"},"add_to_wishlist_url":"https:\u002f\u002fwww.evernightpublishing.com\u002fwishlist.php?action=add&product_id=3666","custom_fields":[{"id":"795","name":"Series","value":"\u002fseries-moon-bound-mates\u002f"}],"sku":"978-0-3695-1514-8","backorder_availability_prompt":"","url":"https:\u002f\u002fwww.evernightpublishing.com\u002fchoosing-the-rejected-mate-by-jade-marshall\u002f","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 14pt;\"\u003e\u003cem\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eMoon Bound Mates, 2\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fem\u003e\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eHolly Black knows better than to trust fate.\u003c\u002fstrong\u003e\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003cbr \u002f\u003e\u003cbr \u002f\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eAfter being publicly rejected by the mate destined for her, she spent years rebuilding her life, one cupcake, one customer, and one hard-earned dream at a time. Sweetique Bakery is hers, and she's determined to never let anyone break her heart again.\u003c\u002fstrong\u003e\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003cbr \u002f\u003e\u003cbr \u002f\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eThen a broken mixer brings Daniel Reed to her door.\u003c\u002fstrong\u003e\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003cbr \u002f\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eThe town's handsome handyman is everything Holly doesn't need… patient, protective, and impossible to ignore. Worse, he's her second-chance mate.\u003c\u002fstrong\u003e\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003cbr \u002f\u003e\u003cbr \u002f\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eDaniel knows the bond between them is real, but he refuses to claim what Holly isn't ready to give. Instead, he offers friendship, laughter, and the freedom to choose for herself.\u003c\u002fstrong\u003e\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003cbr \u002f\u003e\u003cbr \u002f\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eAs old wounds begin to heal and an undeniable attraction grows into something deeper, Holly must decide if she's brave enough to trust again.\u003c\u002fstrong\u003e\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003cbr \u002f\u003e\u003cbr \u002f\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eBecause fate may have chosen her mate...\u003c\u002fstrong\u003e\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003cbr \u002f\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eBut this time, Holly gets to do the choosing.\u003c\u002fstrong\u003e\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eExcerpt:\u003c\u002fstrong\u003e\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eDaniel follows, and Maisie gives me a thumbs-up from behind the counter. I show her one finger, and she beams like I have blessed her.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eDaniel pulls out the chair across from me, then pauses like he’s not sure whether the gesture will annoy me. It does, but it also does not.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eI stare at him for a second, then sit. “Don’t make a thing of it,” I say.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“Wouldn’t dream of it.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“You’re absolutely dreaming of it.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“Every man needs a dream,” he says softly.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“Dreaming is a terrible quality in a man,” I counter.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“Noted,” he deadpans.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eHe sits across from me, and the table suddenly seems too small. His knees almost brush mine underneath. Almost. That word is becoming a theme, and I don’t appreciate it. He opens the bag and pulls out containers.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eChicken salad. Fresh rolls. Fruit. Two slices of chocolate cake.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eMy gaze snaps to his. “Where did you get cake?”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“From the diner.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eI stare at him in horror. “You brought diner cake into my bakery?” I hiss in accusation.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eHis eyes widen. “Was that wrong?”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“That is like bringing a stray cat into a wolf den!”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“I didn’t know.” He looks chagrined. \u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“It’s dry, isn’t it?”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“I haven’t tried it.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“It’s always dry. That cake tastes like sadness and poor choices.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eHe slowly pushes the cake aside. “I apologize.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“You should.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“I’ll do better.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“You will not bring outside cake into my house again.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“Your house?” he asks with a quirked brow. \u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“My bakery. Same thing.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eHis gaze moves around the space, taking in the shelves, the chalkboard, the jars of cookies, the window boxes full of lavender. When he looks back at me, his expression is quieter.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“It feels like you,” he says.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eI pretend to be very busy opening a container. “You don’t know me.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“I know.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“Then how would you know what feels like me?”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“I don’t know all of you,” he says. “But I know this place is warm, stubborn, pretty, and a little dangerous if handled wrong.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eI pause with my fork halfway to my mouth, and my heart does that flipping thing again.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eRude damn organ.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“That was almost smooth,” I say.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“I’m improving.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“Don’t get cocky.” I point my fork at him.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“I make no promises.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eWe eat, and it’s shockingly easy. That bothers me.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eI expected awkwardness. I expect the bond to sit between us like a panting wolf with no manners. It is there, of course. I feel it every time Daniel reaches for his drink, every time his fingers flex around the fork, every time his eyes linger on my mouth.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eBut he talks about normal things. The porch swing he fixed for Mrs. Bell. The library door that sticks when it rains. The fact that Mr. Phelps pretended not to need help carrying feed bags, then nearly fell into the display of garden gnomes at the hardware store.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eI laugh more than I mean to. Daniel is funny in a dry, understated way. He does not perform for attention. He says ridiculous things like they are facts and lets me decide whether to smile.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eIt’s unfairly effective.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“So,” I say after a while, because letting him ask all the gentle questions feels too vulnerable. “Why a handyman?”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eHis shoulder lifts. “I’m good at fixing things.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“That sounds like a line.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eHis smile fades at the edges. “I moved around a lot. Packs always need someone who can repair a roof, wire a barn, rebuild a fence. Being useful gets you fed.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eThe words are casual, but the scent beneath them is not. Loneliness has a scent too. Not like pity. Not sour but more hollow. Like cold air moving through an empty room.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eMy chest tightens. “You don’t have a pack?” I ask.\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“Not anymore.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“Is that by choice?”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“Mostly.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“That is not an answer.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003e“No,” he says. “It’s an answer that needs more time.”\u003c\u002fspan\u003e\u003c\u002fp\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 12pt; font-family: 'times new roman', times, serif;\"\u003eThat’s fair. I gave him less than that yesterday. 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