Page 53 of Grumpy Pucking Orc
“I’ve been skating since I was little. Growing up, we all skated. Winters were long and cold in Buffalo, and we bundled up to hit the ice after school almost every day. We’d play pickup games of hockey or make up fancy figure skating routines and pretend we were in the Winter Olympics. Even when I went to college, I would occasionally go to a rink. Skating is just something I’ve always done. Kind of like knife and sword fighting is for you.”
He nodded. “I had practice weapons since I could walk. All the orcs in my tribe did. Females…uh, women and men, we all were trained to hunt and fight from an early age.”
I held out my hand. “You showed me how to fight. Let me show you how to skate.”
He scowled, then nodded and slid his way over to me with that stab-and-push motion. He did get a lot of distance and speed with each push, but the chunks flying off the ice were nearly giving me a heart attack.
When he was close enough, he took my hand.
“We’re not going to skate fast,” I told him. “This isn’t a game. It’s not a competition. Pretend that we’re dancing, slow and smooth.”
“Orcs do not dance slow and smooth,” he informed me. “We leap and spin and fling ourselves into each other.”
Lord. It sounded like the mosh pit at the metal concerts I’d been to.
“Then pretend like we’re making love. Having sex, slow and smooth. Every movement will be coordinated between us. Just follow my lead.”
His dark eyes were intense as they bored into mine. “Orc males lead when they have sex, but for you, my human fe…woman, I will follow.”
From a human, that would have sounded insufferably arrogant, but from Ozar, it came across as tender and vulnerable.
I turned so his front was to my back and positioned his hands on my waist. “Angle your left skate like this and gently push yourself forward on the right skate. Don’t dig in with the toe like you were doing before, just angle, give some gentle pressure on the blade, then push.”
Even though I couldn’t see him behind me, I could feel that he mirrored my movement.
“Now with your right skate pointing straight ahead, return the left blade to the ice and shift your weight to that leg, angling and pushing off with your right foot.”
We quickly fell into a rhythm, gliding slowly around the ice. The second lap we increased speed, and during the third lap, I pulled Ozar’s hands from my waist, darting forward to put a little space between us before spinning around and taking his hands in mine. We circled that way, me skating backward and Ozar guiding our path as we increased speed once more.
I let go of his hands and cut to the right. He skated forward a few paces, then surprised me by turning around to skate backward. The turn involved a shower of ice chips, but he used the technique I just taught him to smoothly glide in reverse.
For an hour we skated, not like hockey players, but like a couple enjoying a romantic evening on the ice. By the time we headed back to the locker room, Ozar could coordinate his movements alongside mine, twirling me around in front of him to his other side, then turning to skate backward while holding my hands. It amazed me how quickly he’dcaught on and how much innate talent he’d shown. Maybe my wishful thinking was right, and this hockey team might be able to hold their own against a human team by the end of the season.
After changing out of our skates, we headed into the night. The mild temperature of the day had vanished with the sun, and a cold breeze was sliding clouds across the stars and moon. I shivered, and Ozar pulled me against him, the warmth of his body and his arm slung across my shoulders, chasing away the chill. It probably wasn’t an ideal night for ice cream, but since I’d enjoy a cup of mint chip even if I lived in Antarctica, we were going for ice cream.
The teen girl behind the counter looked up as we walked in, then did a double take. Her eyes widened as she took in the giant orc. Ozar had needed to duck his head coming through the doorway and turn slightly sideways so his shoulders could fit through the opening. His eyes widened as well, but it was because he’d seen the rows of ice cream in the long, counter-topped freezer.
“Is all this iced cream?”
His voice held so much awe that I laughed. “Most of it. Some are sherbet, which doesn’t include milk. You can try a taste of any before you order.”
Ozar walked over to the freezer cases and shook his head. “This is amazing. What is your favorite?”
“I’ve always been a mint chip fan, but I also love rocky road and dark chocolate with strawberries and almonds sprinkled on top.”
I watched as he carefully perused the containers. Ozar was so refreshingly open about his emotions. His excitement over trying ice cream, his willingness to let me teach him to skate. And that picture of him playing with children at the park. This guy seemed too good to be true, but theoptimist inside of me wanted to believe that this was real, so I did.
“I saw the article in the paper. The one where you were at Patterson Park with the kids this weekend,” I told him.
His shoulders tightened. “Orc males teach their young to fight and survive. They don’t usually indulge in play with them.”
I put a hand on his arm. “That’s a shame. I love it when a man finds joy in playing with children. I love it when a man talks to me about his hopes and dreams, about his fears. I love it when a man shares both the good memories of his past and the bad.”
His shoulders relaxed. Then he said, “I like milk.”
It sounded like a confession, and I got the idea that enjoying a glass of milk was another thing orc men weren’t supposed to do.
“We’re all about our dairy products here,” I told him. “Cheese. Cream sauces. Lattes. We even have non-dairy options for humans who can’t easily digest real milk. No matter your age, everyone deserves to enjoy milk products. Including ice cream.”
