Page 3 of Charming the Orc's Mate

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The words burned into my retinas like a neon sign of doom. The date was today. Because of course it was. And naturally there was zero evidence of preparation anywhere in the store. No display table, no extra chairs set up, not even any copies of the author’s books set aside to sign.

I stormed downstairs, flyer clenched in my fist. The sight of Molly drifting toward the counter, iced coffee in hand and pink earbuds firmly in place, sent my blood pressure spiking higher.

“You’re late.” I planted myself in front of her. “Care to explain why the store was closed this morning?”

She blinked at me, pulling out one earbud. “Oh. Hi. You must be Carrie.”

“Carissa. And yes, I am. The store opens at eight-thirty.”

“Yeah, about that.” She shrugged, somehow making the gesture both apologetic and completely unconcerned. “Jana quit last week. Gave me her keys and everything.”

The words hit like ice water. “Jana... quit.”

“Mmhmm.” Molly settled onto the stool behind the counter. “I figured she emailed you or whatever. She said something about toxic work environment and micromanaging? But like, she gave two weeks’ notice and everything, so...”

“Two weeks—” My eye twitched. “And you didn’t think to mention this in any of our weekly check-ins?”

“Oh, I haven’t really been checking those. The scheduling app kept crashing.” She brightened. “But I’m still getting my internship hours logged, right? I need the credits to graduate.”

I pressed my fingers to my temples. “Molly. There’s an author event tonight at seven. Please tell me you at least knew about that?”

“Wasn’t on my schedule.” She twisted a strand of purple-streaked hair. “Jana usually handled evening events. Besides, I have a study group tonight.”

“You can’t just—” Deep breaths. No evening staff. No event setup. And apparently no Jana, who I was quickly realizing had been the only thing holding this chaos together. “This is your job. We have commitments to?—”

A laugh boomed through the store, deep and rich as thunder. “Molls! Tell me my special order finally came in!”

“Shhh!” I whirled toward the door, ready to eviscerate whoever dared disturb my rapidly unraveling sanity.

The words died in my throat as I looked up.

And up.

And up.

The doorway framed a mountain of an orc, broad shoulders nearly brushing both sides. Black hair shaved on one side and flipped into a perfect mess on the other, small tusks gleaming as they peeked through parted lips, and warm brown eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

Like he was smiling now.

“Torain?”

The name slipped out before I could stop it. His smile widened, and suddenly I was eleven again, watching him carry boxes of books up to the second floor two at a time while I pretended to read and definitely didn’t stare at his arms.

Except he wasn’t gangly anymore. The awkward teenager who used to knock over display stands with his elbows had grown into his frame. Wood shavings dusted his flannel shirt, and his forearms...

I needed to stop staring at his tattooed forearms.

“Carrie?” His voice softened to what was probably his idea of a whisper—still loud enough to rattle windows. “Little Carrie Morton?”

“It’s Carissa,” I snapped.

CHAPTER TWO

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