Page 51 of Ironling
“I’ve been looking for you,” she said, her voice breathy.
She presented him with what, given the shape, was likely a large jar, wrapped neatly in cloth and tied with a tidy bow on top.
Hakon took it, mind racing. Had he asked her to bring him something and forgotten?
“It’s blackberry jam,” she said with that unrelenting smile. “Ipicked them myself, on my family’s farm. Only the sweetest.”
Hakon’s throat ran dry, unsure what to say. He couldn’t refuse the gift, nor tell her he, as well as most orcs, didn’t have a taste for sweet things.
“Thank you,” he said. “You didn’t have to trouble yourself.”
Impossibly, her smile widened, and she closed the distance between them.
“I wanted to give you a gift,” she said, fluttering her lashes and rounding her big blue eyes.
His stomach dropped.
Fates, she’s—
Brigitt took hold of his leather apron and pulled him down. Warm lips pressed to his, and her lashes swept against his cheek as she closed her eyes. Hakon stared at her brows in shock, unsure what to do, his back rigid as he held perfectly still.
Her lips moved, tempting his. He’d seen humans kissing, knew it to be a dance of lips and tongues. He himself had taken to imagining Lady Aislinn’s plush lips. He stared at them enough to know every contour, every shade of pink, and dreamed of what they would feel like on his skin.
But this wasn’t her. This wasn’t what he’d dreamed.
It was wrong.
Brigitt leaned back, and Hakon retreated to his full height. She was smiling again, but it was small, unsure. A nauseating mix of embarrassment and pity swirled inside him, rendering him speechless. What did he say?
“Do orcs not kiss?” she asked, trying to laugh.
“No, not usually.” He swallowed. “Brigitt, I don’t…”
Her hands fell away from him almost as fast as her smile fell from her face, and she took a step back.
“Oh,” she said.
Hakon hated how quickly tears filled her eyes. He’d done that.
This is all wrong.
He’d come to Dundúran to find a mate. He had a beautiful, pleasant woman giving him gifts in the orcish way and kissing him. He should be grateful. He should be pleased.
But…
“I’m sorry.”
Brigitt shook her head, hiding her tears behind a frown.
“But you…you made me think you felt the same!”
Cold washed over him. “I didn’t mean to.” What had he done? His shocked mind tried to recall, to think what might’ve been misunderstood, but he was too horrified to remember much.
“Then what’s all this staring at my lips? A human does that when he wants to kiss!”
Shame turned his stomach. He always felt the vulnerability of his right ear—but that such a simple thing as reading lips could be misconstrued…to know it’d ended up hurting someone…
Hehatedthat.
