Page 16 of One Night with Her Untamed Orc
I should give pause to his words. Thank him for thinking of me, for looking out for me. Instead, I say, “Probably not. Too much to do.” And with that idiotic, prideful, shoot-myself-in-the-footstatement, I walk away, into the forest, to look for something to destroy in peace.
It’s several days later when I’m organizing my next farm delivery that I see the piece of paper with purple ink. I don’t own a purple pen. When I see Emma’s name signed at the bottom, my heart comes alive in a panic of thumping rabbits, trying to pound its way out of my chest. How did I miss this?
Tarik,
Words aren’t enough to express how grateful I am that you allowed me to stay on your land. I’m excited to make strides in understanding the Lunar Crest Eel.
Emma
The note smells like her. I catch my reflection in the window, inhaling the note as if her mere scent could bring her back to me.
Crumpling the note, I toss it into the wastebasket. I let her go. Back to her damned eels; I don’t have time for sentimentality. The Harvest Festival is coming up; I need to get transport for my giant pumpkins arranged. Remembering her, our time together, theway she felt in my arms, the way her breath sounded in my ear—does me no good. We’re different people. She needs someone who can appreciate her mind and her love of the damned sea. Not someone afraid of baby crabs and grossed out by what might be under the water.
Chapter 15
Emma
“Ihaven’t slept in two weeks,” I admit to my sister, Mary. I slurp down a third cup of coffee this morning while organizing the notes for my presentation on our ferry ride out to Moonfang Haven. Promise, I had nothing to do with the talk being moved out here—to the scene of the crime, as Mary keeps calling it.
“You’ve got it bad, huh?” She’s smiling that dumb Cheshire Cat grin she does when she thinks she knows something I don’t.
“If by ‘got it bad,’ you mean five years worth of research plus fieldwork to whittle down into a one-hour presentation in hopes of saving my funding for the next three years? Then yes, I ‘got it bad.’” I use air quotes around her words. She rolls her eyes at me.
“No. I know all that.” She waves it off, like I overcooked a batch of cookies, rather than that my job is on the line. “You’re in love with this orc dude, who sounds like a reclusive a-hole. But what do I know?Maybe that’s your type. Though I think you’ll get bored with his quiet lifestyle.”
I shake my head. My ponytail whips my face. “You are wrong. I could never be bored with him.” A pause as I realize what I’ve said. “I’m just stressed about the presentation. It has nothing to do with Tarik.”
“Ah, that’s his name! I heard you say it in your sleep the other night.”
“I did not!”
“Did so. Please let me do your make-up for your presentation. Otherwise, you’ll be washed out in the photos. Also, please tell me you called him and invited him to your talk? Or at least to get a beer after?” Her eyes are wide with expectation.
“Photos?” The word comes out a squeak; I refuse to acknowledge her other question. I swore I wouldn’t let myself succumb to pressure. Yet, here I am. And I absolutely refuse to admit that my sister is right. That I’m up at night, not worried about this presentation (though I am), but because I can’t stop thinking about Tarik. Wondering if he’s thinking about me when he looks out at the sea, or if he’s just happy to have me off his property. My body feels weirdly devoid of its favorite food, and I’m craving his kiss, his touch, the taste of him. But I couldn’t call him. I left a note; he would have responded if he wanted to see me again. Right?
“Earth to Emma. Again,” Mary looks smug. Like she can see straight into the television screen of my mind, watching the replay of our last morning together, eating homemade pancakes then him pumping into me hard in the middle of his kitchen. Gods, what a morning. I was sore all the next day.
“Yes. Fine to make-up, as long as it has Earth-friendly ingredients.”
“My dear sister, do you really think I would even entertain the idea of buying a product that might be on your shit list against the Earth?”
“This is why you’re my favorite sister.”
“Yes, favorite and only.”
Okay, fine. I am nervous about my presentation. I’m wearing so much deodorant to prevent sweat stains on my blouse, I might as well have bathed in the stuff. All the important people are here: old professors, peers, the people who run the budget for my research, my sister. Not to mention, the citizens of Moonfang Haven. This is their land, their sea. I’m happy to see so many people here. Gives me hope for the future of these endangeredeels.
It isn’t until halfway through my presentation, when the photo of the bay where I spent the best and hardest three days of my life comes into view, that I have a hiccup. Tarik isn’t in the photo, that wouldn’t have been professional. But he was there when I took it. Looking forbidding at me as I waxed on so poetically about the sea and the eels. He must have thought me crazy. He’s probably so happy to have his forest and pebbly beach all to himself again, I tell myself.
Right after the photo, once I’ve got my bearings again, I hear a noise as I shuffle my note cards. My head jerks up, knowing the sound—a slight, threatening rumble.
That’s when I see him.
Poros. My heart soars at the sight of the young orc. But then it falls to the floor. Tarik isn’t with him; though it sounded like his growl and grumble. My eyes scan the crowd, desperate to see his grumpy face. Nope. A cough brings me back to the present, to this stage I’m standing on.
Somehow, I make it to my ending statement. I let all the passion and nerdiness flow up through me to my words. I want everyone to walk away from this presentation understanding the Lunar Crested Eel better than before, and knowing that its environment here in the waters of Wolfsridge Island is crucial to its continued existence. This is the culmination of five years of research and work. This is the leaping off point to securing more funding for more travel andresearch. More years of collecting and studying data on these elusive sea creatures.
After the last word, the audience erupts in applause. I take a haggard breath, letting out the adrenaline that pushed me through. I savor this moment, even if I can’t admit that I’m sad Tarik isn’t here.
