Page 54 of Grumpy Pucking Orc
He pointed a finger at one of the tubs of ice cream. “Can I try that one?”
“Sure can.” The girl dug a tiny pink spoon into the mocha-fudge swirl and held it out to Ozar. The orc tasted it and made a low growling noise deep in his throat.
“I want that one,” he announced.
I smiled. “Cone or cup?” He looked confused at the question, so I told the girl to put two scoops in a waffle cone and make me the same with mint chip.
And as we walked out of the ice cream shop with our cones, I grabbed Ozar’s hand and led him toward the Inner Harbor.
Chapter 22
Ozar
We had nothing at home that tasted at all like this ice cream. It was cold and sweet and rich. The milky flavor melded with the taste of vanilla and the burst of chocolate in the thick ribbon swirl. I’d assumed the cone was some sort of biodegradable container, but when Jordan bit into hers, I did the same. The crunch was a perfect complement to the ice cream, and I quickly devoured the treat, vowing to stock my freezer at home with this delicious stuff.
From her occasional shiver, I could tell that Jordan’s vest was not keeping her warm, so I was doing my best to snuggle her close to my heat. The last few days had been magical.Tonightwas magical. Skating with Jordan had transformed a job-related training exercise into a…a dance. Not the orc sort of dance, but a gentle lovemaking waltz.
Orcs didn’t waltz, but I’d watched the video Bwat had sent me a few days ago and while I’d at first scoffed at the two humans twirling about together, I changed my mind. There was a beauty in a soft touch, in the synergy of movement, in the coming together and the tease of edging apart.
I’d come here expecting to grab a breeding-age female and drag her home. I hadn’t thought I would find my mate in a human woman. I hadn’t planned to discover a whole side of myself I’d never known. And I hadn’t expected to revel in human culture, to find myself thinking there were some customs and beliefs here that I liked better than the ones back home.
Jordan steered me down toward the waterside where the unbelievably wide Patapsco River was the backdrop for restaurants, bars, and an aquarium that Jordan promised to take me to. It was too dark to use one of the paddle boats to explore the water, so that was filed away for a future outing. Instead, we sat on a bench, holding hands and talking as we watched the distant lights of the ships heading to the city’s freight harbor.
It was a romantic evening, Jordan curled against me with my arm around her shoulders. The crowd thinned as we left our bench and veered away from the waterfront into a commercial area. The buildings were clearly vacant this time of the night and the streetlights did little to lighten the shadows of the massive buildings.
“We should head back.” Jordan glanced around nervously.
I let her pick the route, keeping her tucked under my arm as I admired the giant stone buildings reaching toward the heavens like the mountain peaks back home.
Two human males in dark clothing approached, and Jordan stiffened. I’d been told there were areas of the city where ruffians congregated to conduct illegal transactions, and while some places might be safe during the day, they weren’t so at night. This was clearly one of the latter from Jordan’s reaction. But she’d brought me here. She trusted that she’d be safe with me nearby. Of course she would be.I’d protect her at all costs. That trust was a valuable gift, and one I wouldn’t take lightly.
The male with a shaved head stopped, looking over at us. I squared my shoulders, standing up straight and fixing him with a hard stare. Two humans would be easy to subdue. I wouldn’t even need to use my knife.
“Hey! You’re that orc from the hockey team, aren’t you?” the bald human asked as he approached, his companion a few steps behind.
“I am Ozar with the Baltimore Tusks,” I confirmed.
“You guys suck,” the other male with long braids informed me.
I nodded. “We do. But that doesn’t mean I can’t cave your skull in with one punch.”
Jordan sucked in a breath, clutching my arm. “Don’t,” she whispered in a warning.
Braided male scowled and lifted his baggy shirt to reveal the handle of a pistol protruding from the waistband of his pants.
When I’d arrived here, I’d wrongfully assumed that humans still used knives and swords, and their only projectile weaponry was the bow and arrow. Bwat’s research had enlightened us all on the advancements the humans had made. Their explosive devices and firearms rivaled the magical weaponry we’d faced when battling the fae. I knew this pistol was not something I should underestimate. It might only disable me, but it might kill Jordan before I could make a move to protect her.
Thankfully, it didn’t come to that.
“Idiot.” Bald male slapped the back of braided-hair male’s head. “You think killing a cop causes problems? Killing a hockey player is gonna get you the chair, if the local boys don’t blow your head off first. This is Baltimore.We love our Old Bay Seasoning, our state flag, steamed crabs, and our sports teams.”
Braided-hair male dipped his head. “Sorry, man.”
“We have no problems between us,” I reassured him.
“Can I get a picture?” Bald male asked me as he pulled a cell phone from his back pocket.
I gave Jordan’s hand a reassuring squeeze and walked toward the man. Bald male handed his phone to braided-hair male and stood beside me, an arm slung over my shoulder. Human males were quite a bit shorter than orcs, so he had to press against my side and extend his arm to its full length to reach my shoulder. I hunched down a bit to lessen the height difference and adopted the pose of the tuskless, clearly exiled orc in a movie calledThe Hulk. Bald male scowled, extending the hand not clutching my shoulder and arranging his fingers in what I assumed was some sort of clan symbol.
