Page 17 of Grumpy Pucking Orc
“Ozar, you need to do whatyouwant.” I put my hand back on his arm.
“There are things I want. And if being a fool on a hockey team gets me those, then I will play this game.”
I shivered a little at his tone, that non-practical, romantic piece of my heart thrilling at the intimation that he wantedme—that he’d do anything to winme.
“How about you not be a fool on a hockey team,” I said, a daring tone in my voice. “How about you be a winner on a hockey team? How about you score goals and play in a way that the other team is scared to death of you?”
Ozar grinned at that, his gaze focusing on some distant point, visualizing his success. “I like that idea, Doctor Jordan Schooner of Schooner Dental Reconstruction. I like that.”
“Jordan,” I reminded him. “Please just call me Jordan.”
“Jordan.” He took another drink from his beer. “I have told you many things about me, and now I want to hear everything about you.”
By last call, I hadn’t told himeverythingabout me. Asusual, I’d gone on at length about my more challenging reconstructive dentistry cases. I’d even pulled out my phone and showed him pictures. I wanted to blame the number of beers I’d had this evening, but honestly, I was always like this—a total tooth nerd who lived for her profession.
Ozar was either incredibly polite, or he was determined to suffer though anything for a chance to take me to bed. Except at the end of the night when the staff was shooing our drunk butts out the door, Ozar didn’t insist on taking me back to his place. Instead, he expressed concern about my ability to drive my vehicle and offered to walk me home.
I laughed at the idea of stumbling several miles through the city to my house. I was wearing comfortable shoes, but I was also extremely tipsy and knew I’d end up having to pee in a couple of people’s landscaping on the way if I walked home. It was a better plan to order an Uber and pick up my car sometime tomorrow. Abby had left before us, as had Willa. The other orcs had also left, leaving Ozar and I drinking another round and talking until closing.
Ozar was intrigued by the Uber app, saying he wanted to download that for himself as he didn’t have a vehicle or know how to drive one. I finished, then asked him how orcs and others in his world got around.
“We walk. We can also run at a fast pace for very long distances. And if we need to haul lumber or something else, we hitchpzackito a cart. They are like…” He jutted out his lower lip in thought. “Horse and moose. And shark, although they do not need to live in the water.”
What the hell kind of monster was that? “Do you ride them? Or do they just pull carts?”
“Both, although they tend to bond to one orc and will only allow them to ride or approach. They are dangerous creatures and can be vicious to those they do not like.”
My Uber pulled up to the curb.
“Thank you for an enjoyable evening,” I told him, really meaning it. I’d had a great conversation with him, and the initial attraction had strengthened, winding its silky strands tightly around me as we’d gotten to know each other. Without thinking, I reached up and pulled his head down to mine, kissing him firmly.
He was taken by surprise, but quickly got with the program, gathering my body against his. His arms scooped me up off my feet, nestling my hips to the firm hardness between his legs. He was so tall he still needed to arch his back to continue kissing me, but the awkward position didn’t seem to bother him, and it certainly didn’t bother me. Neither did his tusks, which pressed firmly but not painfully against the sides of my mouth.
All the while, my Uber driver waited patiently. I doubted this was the first time he’d seen two people at closing time locking lips, waiting for their drunk-drive home.
When we finally pulled apart, Ozar opened the back door for me, ushering me into the seat and gently closing the door. The driver pulled from the curb, smirking at me in the rearview. I twisted to look back at the giant orc who watched until we rounded a corner.
It had been so easy to offer Ozar my business card in that parking lot under the guise of having him come in as a patient. That excuse for seeing him meant my heart would be safe. If he showed up Monday morning, fine. If not, then it wouldn’t be a personal rejectionora slight on my abilities as a dentist. But we’d gone to McHenry’s, and I’d gotten to know him better, and now there was so much more at stake. What would happen Monday morning when he walked into my practice?Ifhe walked into my practice?
And what would happen if he didn’t? My heart ached at the thought. Was this just a drunken flirtation that the orc would regret in the morning? He was a sports figure, losing team or not. And there was a reason I didn’t date athletes.
But if hedidshow up at my office, and he acted totally professional, then I’d have to do the same. If he flirted, then maybe I’d work up the nerve to ask him out.
Maybe.
How the hell was I supposed to ask out a patient? Or evenflirtwith a patient? Ugh. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him to come to my office after all. Playing it safe meant that I was now going to face an ethical dilemma.
And therewouldbe a dilemma, because I wanted more from Ozar than just a chance to take care of his teeth. But it was too late for that now. If he arrived Monday morning for his appointment, I’d just need to be brave, throw professionalism out the window… and possibly ask him out to dinner.
Chapter 7
Ozar
Itossed and turned through the night, having dreams about Jordan and the orclets we would have together interspersed with nightmares of her rejecting me. Giving up on sleep, I rose. The sky was gray with the coming sun as I sat on my apartment’s porch with a glass of milk and the last two cinnamon rolls from the dozen I’d picked up from a street vendor a few days ago.
The milk reminded me of home. It was a special kind that Bwat had found on the internet. A truck delivered the bottles to me three times a week from a farm west of the city. I’d discovered that with the addition of a vanilla bean, it tasted just like ourwoanjaback home. It was so thick it coated my upper lip. Creamy and sweet and icy cold on my tongue and throat.
It was an orclet’s drink, but my youth had been cut short with tragedy and this milk conjured up the joy of childhood and family.
