Page 91 of Grumpy Pucking Orc
And the expression on his face when he’d seen Coal and realized the cat was his…it had nearly made me cry. The joy, the gratitude, the love—not just for the little black cat, but for me.
My first appointment of the day was Stephanie. Her implant was free of charge, as the tooth from DarRafi was not yet available outside clinical trials and this would be the first time I used the new equipment specially designed for shifter dentistry. It took extra numbing injections and the time to drill was extended, but Stephanie left with the screw for her implant installed and a promise to let me know how everything held up when she shifted into her wolf form for this weekend’s pack hunt. If all went well, I’d put her crown on next week, and we’d have a few more weeks of regular checkups to make sure the tooth remained undamaged after a few shifts.
My first restoration for a supernatural client. I took a much-needed break to celebrate with an iced coffee before Mr. Gerwin’s denture fitting appointment. Stephanie’s implant today. Ozar’s two implants on Monday, and next Wednesday I’d be doing X-rays and evaluating my vampireclient to see what I could propose for her restoration work. I felt giddy with excitement about the expansion of my business, and all the new clients I could help.
The rest of the day went smoothly, and I raced home to take care of Judy and change my clothes for tonight’s game. Once more, Ozar had provided the girls and me VIP tickets, including an extra one for Stephanie, who had taken the evening off her remodeling project to come see “these orcs of mine” in person.
Abby presented us all with team jerseys, even though the orcs were still playing shirtless. Of course I got one with Ozar’s name on the back. The other three girls couldn’t agree on who was going to wear which orc’s name, so they left it up to chance. Willa ended up with Ugwyll, Abby with Bwat, and Stephanie with Morag.
The Tusks lost, but they put up a good defense against the Ducks and I felt like the ending score of one to three was worth celebrating, along with the fact that I had downed three beers and shouted myself hoarse cheering for the orcs.
I wasn’t the only one cheering. The stands were packed. Abby kept calling someone to get the attendee numbers and by the time the teams took the ice, she’d finally begun to relax. Judging from the amount of Tusks jerseys, signs, and team merchandise in the stadium, I assumed she had a lot to celebrate besides the much-improved team performance.
More than the usual four orcs joined us at McHenry’s Tavern for a post-game revelry. This time, the human customers didn’t line the edges as far away as possible from the giant green-skinned hockey players. Ozar and his teammates were treated to jovial slaps on the shoulders, pint after pint of beer, and requests to sign shirts, menus, and even body parts. I loved how enthusiastic everyone was,even though it meant Ozar and I didn’t have the chance for any private conversation.
Leaving him signing autographs for an older couple, I went up to the bar and squeezed in beside Bwat, hoping to get a refill on my beer.
“Yellow or brown?”
It took me a second to realize he was asking me what kind of beer I was drinking.
“IPA,” I replied, then thanked him as he waved down the bartender and ordered me a “PIA.”
The guy gave Bwat a thumbs-up, which made me realize he’d gotten used to the orcs and their language mistakes. A minute later, Bwat was handing me a pint, informing me that he’d put it on Ozar’s tab because it wasn’t polite to purchase food and beverage for someone’s mate unless they were starving to death. Even then, he would have needed to have Ozar pay him back for the purchase.
I laughed, adding the tidbit of knowledge to what I had learned so far about orc culture.
“Can I ask you something?” At Bwat's nod, I continued. “What doesGrumem-esch-ach metanekan schlonakanap-tskntmean?”
Bwat frowned. “Can you say that again?”
“Grumem-esch-ach metanekan schlonakanap-tsknt.” My tongue tangled over the strange words, and I spoke slowly, trying to remember Ozar’s exact pronunciation.
The orc laughed and shook his head. “Your accent is horrible. It sounds like you’re saying, ‘my best friend won’t stop pissing in my window.’”
“I don’t think Ozar is repeatedly telling me that his best friend is peeing in his window.” Especially because he tended to say this during romantic and intimate moments.
“It’s possible,” Bwat pointed out. “I can see Eng doing something like that, and not as a joke, either.”
“Ozar lives on the fifth floor of an apartment building. Eng does not seem like the kind of orc to climb up balcony railings when there are a million other, less physically taxing ways he could annoy Ozar. Besides…” I squirmed, my cheeks feeling hot. “Ozar says it when we’re…we’re….”
“In the furs together?” Bwat shot me a knowing look. “I think he’s probably saying, ‘Grumem-esch-ach metanekan schlonakanap-tsknt.’”
“That’s what I said,” I huffed in exasperation.
One of the orc’s eyebrows rose.
“Well, that’s what I wastryingto say.”
He nodded. “That means, ‘my beloved crushes my heart in her hands.’”
My eyes widened. “I’m not crushing his heart! How could he think that? I love him!”
“You’re his mate,” Bwat replied. “His heart belongs to you.”
“Yes, but not to crush,” I argued.
Bwat shrugged. “There is a cultural meaning that the word translation doesn’t carry. You aren’tactuallycrushing his heart, you are…cradling it? You have the power to crush it or to keep safe.”
