Page 17 of One Night with Her Untamed Orc
It’s silly of me to think he’d come and clap with the rest of these academic folk. Yes, part of me hoped Poros would convince him to come. But I probably should have had a bigger, stronger orc than Tarik (are there any bigger and stronger than him? I don’t think so) strong-arm him into coming.
I say ‘thank you’ to my colleagues who congratulate me afterward as people mill about. I try to stay focused on the people in front of me. These are the people who matter, I tell myself over and over again. A flash of bright color catches my eye. A bouquet of sunflowers.
I gasp at them; they’re so beautiful. When I realize the person holding them is wearing a ball cap over their face, but the hand holding the flowers is huge. And green. I gasp again. It can’t be. I searched everywhere.
He waits while people shake my hand. It has to be him. Who else could it be? Poros stands at the edge of the crowd with a giant cheesy grin on his face. Mary is next to him, matching his smile, her hands clasped together in front of her, like she can’t contain herself. I canfeel my own smile grow; there’s no stopping it. My body lights up with excitement that Tarik really is here.
Finally, there’s a gap in people; I turn to him. His ball cap is still low. It says, “Green Thumb Growers.” That’s funny. He’s wearing a button-down shirt that looks like it’s going to pop off at any moment. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him wear a shirt. It’s good to know he owns one.
We stand there. I wait, quiet but impatient. My professor steps in front of Tarik to tell me about a new grant to apply for. While I’m annoyed at him blocking my view of Tarik’s body, I can’t stop smiling. The sight of Tarik towering over my professor is hilarious. That he’s here, for me, makes me want to shout with joy…even though that will probably scare him off.
Eventually, my professor walks away. The crowd thins a bit. I tap my foot.
“I found your note. It surprised me you used a purple pen.” I sigh in happiness at his silly way to start a conversation.
“Yes. I love the color. It complements green.”
“I didn’t realize. I got you yellow flowers.” Tarik’s face is so sincere, and yet still so incredibly grumpy. I love it so much, even if he doesn’t look me in the eyes. I love his thoughtfulness and his random statements.
“I love them. Did you grow them?”
“Poros.”
There. He looks at me. His dark eyes clear and wanting. His lack of a smile so familiar.
“You look beautiful. And your talk was riveting. Here.” He hands me the bouquet. I take it, enjoying the sizzle as our hands touch. I thought maybe I’d dreamt our connection. But it’s still real.
“Thank you. You look good in your shirt. But why are you hiding under that ball cap?” Do orcs blush? If so, I think Tarik is. His cheeks deepen a shade as his eyes dart around the room before landing back on mine.
“I—I didn’t want to distract you. So I sat in the very back with the hat. Poros had the audacity to sneeze, and I growled at him. I thought for sure you would see me, so I slunk down in my seat.”
“I thought I recognized the sound!” Laughing, I hug the flowers to me, wanting to hug him. But do stoic, reclusive orcs partake in public displays of affection?
There’s only one way to find out.
Chapter 16
Tarik
Emma is a unique creature in this world. Of this, I am positive. Watching her speak about her research and these ridiculous eels made me care. Care about the sea, the eels, even the intrusive little crab that clung to my foot and terrorized me on the beach.
Even more than making me, and everyone around, care, she radiates the same joy and confidence I saw at her camp, on the boat, and in bed. I am completely awestruck by her. And I want nothing more than to make her happy.
But I see that she is happy. She is doing what makes her happy.
At the end of her speech, I’m tempted to slink out without saying anything. But I am not a coward. It is a great honor to shake her hand and tell her, ‘Well done.’
I don’t see the moment she sees me; I’m too busy keeping my head down. But I hear her gasp. I smell her scent shift from the nervousexcitement that it’s been, to something different—not straight up arousal, but a wanting in her.
I’m so tongue-tied and twisted in my emotions. I want to carry her high above this crowd and demand that they all worship her, praise her for the genius she is. At the same time, I want to scoop her up and run away, back to my quiet cabin away from prying eyes, and give her pleasure after pleasure until she can’t take it anymore.
What do I do? I awkwardly give her flowers and stand there like the bumbling orc that I am. Remember, she’s happy here. This isn’t about making me happy or fulfilling the longing in my soul for my fated mate. This is about her. If I plant myself in her life, am I taking away what she’s built? Is there room for my pumpkins and me and her eels?
Emma leaps into my arms, strangling me in a hug, legs wrapped awkwardly around me, clinging on for dear life. The action shakes me out of all the introspection I’ve buried myself in. When I inhale, it’s of her and her hair—summer salt and lemon. Two biting substances that together are the essence of summer and her. Joy bubbles up inside me.
“Hug me back,” she whispers into my neck. Right. I wrap my arms around her, supporting her, savoring the feeling of her soft bodyagainst mine.
After standing like that for who knows how long, she lifts her head to look at me with a beautiful smile on her face, all her freckles shining out. “I wasn’t sure you’d do public displays of affection, Tiger.”
