Page 57 of Grumpy Pucking Orc
Ozar tilted his head as he regarded the cat, clearly not understanding my humor.
“Most humans are very attached to their pets,” I explained as I picked up the still-upset Judy. “People wholove cats love them, eccentricities and all. They are independent animals. Some are aloof, others are varying degrees of affectionate creatures. Their amazing speed, agility, and hunting ability make them a fun companion that doesn’t require the level of attention and care that other animals like dogs do.”
“Judy is a hunter?” He sounded awed by that fact. “But she is so small.”
I motioned for him to follow me as I carried Judy into the kitchen, petting the cat to reassure her that Ozar was no threat. “Cats mostly hunt birds, small rodents, and bugs. They were initially domesticated to kill vermin in human settlements, homes, and buildings. Mice and rats can carry diseases that spread to humans, so having cats not only protected our food from being eaten but reduced the risk of their owners catching those diseases.”
“It is incredible that humans have developed a relationship with such an animal.”
He reached out toward Judy, who flattened her ears and batted him with her paw. She hadn’t unsheathed her claws, so I was hoping that was a sign she didn’t hate Ozar as much as she hated the rest of my visitors.
I put the cat down and she backed away, her fur puffed out and her eyes fixed on the orc.
“Your best bet is to respect her space and just ignore her,” I advised as I pulled a bottle of merlot from the wine rack. “In time, she’ll learn to tolerate your presence.”
We settled on the sofa with glasses of wine and talked about his campaigns in protecting his clan back home. I told him about my more challenging dentistry cases and my ideas about serving our supernatural community. The whole time Judy sat on the coffee table in front of us, her tail twitching, and her narrowed gaze fixed on the orc. It madeour little make-out session a little weird, so when Ozar began to unhook my bra, I stopped him.
“Upstairs,” I ordered in a breathless voice.
We climbed the steps, pausing on the way up to kiss and discard bits of clothing while Judy stalked behind us. The cat ducked between our legs as we crossed the threshold into my bedroom. I broke off mid-kiss with my bra hanging off one elbow and my pants sliding down my hips to grab Judy and evict her. The cat stared at me with huge, incredulous eyes as I closed the door in her face and went back to the orc.
I loved my cat, but there were some things she didn’t need to be watching. And Ozar tossing me on the bed and yanking my underwear low enough to fit his face between my thighs was one of those things.
Iawoke at five a.m. as was typical, but this morning I stretched lazily, enjoying every sore muscle and feeling incredibly satisfied. If I’d been a cat, I would have purred.
Cat.
I bolted upright, realizing that I’d never let Judy into the bedroom last night. Ozar and I had made love over and over until I’d collapsed in a boneless heap, falling into a deep slumber with my head nestled against his chest. Judy always slept on my bed, and I’d learned that any variation in her schedule resulted in all sorts of little gifts distributed like landmines around my house.
Judy wasn’t the only thing missing from my bed. The spot where Ozar had been when I’d fallen into a sexually satisfied sleep was empty. I’d kinda hoped towake up with him and maybe enjoy some sleepy, morning sex, but I tamped down my disappointment. This whole thing was new for us, and I didn’t know what he might have on his schedule today. I hadn’t slept the night at his house, so I could hardly fault him for leaving. And for all I knew, he might have kissed me goodbye and had a short conversation with me before he’d headed out. I slept like the dead, and it wouldn’t be the first time I’d mumbled something incoherently in the middle of the night and not remembered it in the morning.
Rolling out of bed, I threw on an oversized T-shirt, took care of my morning biological functions, and brushed my teeth. Whatever Judy had pooped and vomited on my floor would still be there after I’d finished my routine.
Finally, I opened the door and, being careful to look where I stepped, headed downstairs. Before I hit the landing, I heard a riot of sounds coming from my kitchen. Scrabbling of claws on the flooring. Chirping and squawking, and the trill of Judy having the time of her life. I raced down the final stairs, sure that my cat was after some bird that had managed to find its way into my house.
Sliding to a stop at the entrance to my kitchen, my mouth fell open. Ozar sat on one of the bar stools that flanked the kitchen island. He held the small mirror from my downstairs bathroom and was redirecting sunlight from it into a beam on the kitchen floor. Judy was chasing that beam of light like her very life depended on catching and killing it.
My cat still might consider Ozar a dangerous character worthy of suspicion, but right now, any anxiety on her part had been washed away by the thrill of the hunt.
“She is a truly ferocious creature.” Ozar smiled over atme. “I wish we had cats back home. I would have loved to have a companion like Judy when I was an orclet.”
My ovaries had exploded when I saw the picture of him with the kids at Patterson Park, but now it was my heart that exploded. He liked my judgy cat. He was playing with my judgy cat.
I sniffed.
And he’d made coffee.
“I have a laser pointer toy that she loves to play with,” I told him. “It shines a red dot, and she chases it all over the room. And she loves the mice toys as well. They’re made of wool and stuffed with catnip. They’re all in a basket by the back door.”
He set the mirror on the counter, much to Judy’s dismay, and poured me a mug of coffee. “I believe she was upset at being shut out of your bedroom last night. I found some….mukawoutside the door when I awoke.”
I hadn’t seen themukawoutside my door—which I assumed translated to either puke or poop—which meant Ozar must have cleaned it up. How embarrassing that he’d awoken to that. Although he didn’t seem particularly bothered by my cat’s anxious digestive issues.
“I understand what you mean about serving the cat.” He handed me the coffee, then picked up his own, half-empty mug. “I have just met this creature, yet I already have cleaned up hermukaw, entertained her, and provided her with morning food.”
I nearly choked on my coffee. “The cat kibble? Please tell me you gave her the cat kibble from the container.”
He frowned and consulted his phone. “Uhh, there is specific food for cats? Because Judy told me she was to eat the container of shredded chicken from your refrigerator.”
