Page 58 of Grumpy Pucking Orc
Chicken wasn’t as bad as a bowl of milk or a dozen raweggs, although I had planned to use that container for the topping of my lunch salads.
“She’ll be okay,” I reassured Ozar. “Judy has a sensitive stomach, so you can’t rely on her opinion of what’s good for her. I do give her chicken as a treat, but only after she’s had her kibble.”
He nodded. “I will remember that for next time.”
Next time. I loved that. My weirdo cat hadn’t scared him away.Ihadn’t scared him away. Yet.
Walking forward, I put my mug of coffee on the counter and wedged myself between his legs. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled him toward me.
“Do you have anything planned for this morning?” I asked, pressing myself against him.
“No,” he murmured before lowering his lips to mine.
I was a woman who lived by her schedule, just like my cat. I got up at the same time each morning. I ate the same breakfast. I went to the gym, then went to work. But today? Today was when I was going to deviate from that reassuring schedule.
And I was going to relish every moment of my illicit morning with Ozar. Even if it made me late to work.
Chapter 24
Jordan
Iwasn’t late to work, but it was a close call.
And it was one hundred percent worth it. Ozar and I had made love in the kitchen, then he’d cooked breakfast while I’d showered and changed. We’d eaten something that reminded me of a hash skillet, chatting about what we had planned for the day. He had a home game Friday night and told me he’d arrange for my friends and I to attend, with special tickets waiting at the on-call booth of the arena.
The Uber dropped him off in front of his apartment building, then took me to the stadium to retrieve my car. I’d texted the girls and had just enough time to grab another coffee at a drive-through before heading to the office.
Yeah. Three coffees before eight. Don’t judge me.
During my morning appointments, I couldn’t help my mind from drifting back to last night with Ozar. Under that grumpy exterior was a kind, caring, sensitive orc. While performing scaling and root planing on Mrs. Jackson, I kept thinking of Ozar and his homeland. His voice had softened when he spoke of his family and friends, of his childhood, ofhis mother who he’d lost at such a young age. He clearly loved it there, and it must have been difficult for him to come here in search of a better life. I wasn’t sure I could have been that brave if I’d been in his position.
Three patients later, I was taking a much-needed break when Mike walked up to my office.
“Jordan, there’s someone up front for a consult, but it’s not about her, it’s about her partner.” Mike sounded disapproving. He’d framed the word “partner” in air-quotes, so it might be that the potential client was in a same-sex relationship, or it could be that she was a supernatural. Probably the latter since I’d never known Mike to be snobby about any of our LGBTQ patients.
I’d never been able to tell shifters apart from humans by sight, and I valued confidentiality, so I’d added an optional question on my appointment form for clients to self-identify. Humans hadn’t bothered to answer the question so far, but the three shifters who’d stopped by my office yesterday had.
They’d all been excited, curious, and openly thrilled that we were potentially going to be offering services for them, even if my staff had to inform them of a three-month wait for non-emergency appointments.
I had a few minutes between appointments, so I told Mike to have someone escort the woman to my office. The woman who walked in was tall with a lanky athletic build and short sandy-blond hair. Freckles dotted her skin, and I immediately envisioned her as a Ralph Lauren model.
“I’m Jaq.” She held out her hand and gave me a shy smile before sitting in the chair across from me. “I’m a Nephilim with a werewolf pack in West Virginia, and I was told you were taking on supernatural clients?”
I nodded. “But if you’re a Nephilim, then…”
This was awkward. Nephilim were half angel and half human, and from what I’d read and what Stephanie had told me, they were incredibly powerful. They could shift into multiple forms, although most had a favorite. Some had the ability to heal others, and they had defensive and offensive fighting capabilities similar to angels. They were immortal and were revered in whatever shifter pack they chose to make their home.
“Oh, I’m here for my mate, not for me.” Her smile showed adorable dimples on her cheeks. “My mate is a vampire who had her fangs removed before she was old enough to be able to regenerate them.”
I blinked, trying to process this. “She lost herfangs?”
Jaq nodded. “I realize that technology might not be advanced enough for her to have fully functional implants, but I’d really like to gift her with ones that would at least serve a cosmetic purpose.”
That had to be one of the most romantic things I’d ever heard. But then again, my passion was teeth, so I was a little skewed in my ideas of what a romantic gift might be.
“It should be easy to mold new fangs, but I’m assuming she’d prefer for them to retract like her original fangs did?”
Jaq nodded. “Would that be possible?”
