Page 2 of A Troll in the Hay
She doesn’t know that trolls have excellent hearing, and I’m not about to tell her. Not yet.
“Could you say that again, but without the…” I make a sweep-away motion toward my own mouth.
She drops her hands from their screening position, revealing cheeks I’d very much like to reach across and touch, to see if their increased shade of pink is just a pretty color, or if the tint has affected the temperature of her skin. “I’m so sorry for assuming. It’s just that you’re very big, and you’re green, and you have those protruding bottom teeth.” Again, she shakes her head. “I’ve seen a lot of media coverage about orcs since the beginning of multispecies integration, but I don’t recall seeing anything about trolls, and in my mind, trolls are small and—” Her lips snap closed, her complexion developing an even deeper blush.
When she doesn’t finish the abruptly cut-off sentence, I motion for her to continue. “Small and…”
Something between a sigh and an agonized groan leaves her lips as she looks up at me through long, dark eyelashes. “Creepy and ugly—and before you think the worst of me, which I don’t blame you for—I want you to know thatIthink the worst of me right now. I feelhorrible about having unflattering preconceived notions about any species. Especially yours, after meeting you. You’re the opposite of all those things I so wrongly assumed.”
Even if I wasn’t unexpectedly and utterly attracted to her, I’d find her earnestness charming. “Yes, I’m definitely the opposite of small,” I say, addressing the only point it’s reasonable to believe she meant genuinely. “Don’t be hard on yourself for the assumptions. Trolls are generally quite solitary in nature, and our preference to avoid public and social gatherings means there isn’t a lot of accurate information about us available, even since integration with human communities.”
“You’re very kind, forgiving me so easily.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. You made a minor, honest mistake; don’t give it another thought. Now that that’s out of the way, if you have any questions about trolls or Harmony Glen, please feel free to ask. I’m happy to help you any way I can.” Though my customer probably doesn’t consider this a personal conversation, I’d like it to be. I don’t want the interaction to end. I don’t want her to turn around and walk out of the market. Out of my life.
Placing her hands on the counter again, she slides them toward my side. An innocent action that causes my already indecent reaction to her to expand. Then she leans in, essentially putting her breasts on the countertop.
Towering over as I do, I have a clear view down the neckline front of her formfitting summer dress, and my gaze is drawn to the deep valley betweenher smooth, rounded breasts. My cock throbs against my leg, and a trickle of precum slides down my skin. I can’t recall the last time I took myself in hand for a release, but I know when the next time will be—as soon as the farmhouse door is closed behind me tonight. And I’ll be picturing this beautiful human with every stroke and spurt.
“Okay, I have a question,” she says, smiling when my gaze snaps from her breasts to her waiting eyes. Green, a shade much like my skin. They’re also glittering, and since there’s no sunlight directly shining on this part of the store, the sparkle must be coming from within.
“Of course. Ask me anything.”
“Was your offer of help just generic politeness that you hope I don’t take you up on? You know, given what you said about being antisocial.” For a human woman who has no experience with trolls, and comes from somewhere without much monster integration, she’s incredibly forward and fearless.
“Any offer I make to you is sincere.”
Delicate dark eyebrows rise over her dazzling green eyes. Did she take note of my carefully wordedto you? Was my desperation for her to accept obvious?
Her lips part as if to respond, but anything she might’ve said is interrupted by voices and laughter as a family with several young children enters, pulling a wagon laden with baskets from the pick-your-own fields.
“Hi, Mr. Ogram!” one of the littles calls out, waving a long carrot with its top intact while running toward me. “Look what I picked!”
The dark-haired beauty eases back from the counter. “I’ll get out of your way,Mr. Ogram.”
“Just Ogram,” I say as she moves aside to make space for the incoming miniature tornado. “And you’re not in the way. I’ll just be a few minutes taking care of these folks, then I’m all yours if you’d like to take me up on that offer.”
The smile she gives me nearly buckles my knees. “I absolutely do. I’m Hope, by the way.”
Hope. She couldn’t have a more perfect name.
Chapter Two
HOPE
Since arriving in Harmony Glen several days ago, I’ve seen so many monsters of all shapes and sizes. The first day I was exploring downtown, a lion man walked by with what looked like a baby dragon. It was very difficult not to stare, but if he noticed, he didn’t seem bothered. Neither did the blue-skinned man who appeared ready to stop and talk as if we’re friends when I said hello in passing. And that was just the first afternoon. Everyone I’ve met has been welcoming, if not honest-to-goodness delightful.
Like I told Ogram, my hometown didn’t embrace multispecies integration after the Great Revelation, when all the nonhuman species came out of hiding. They didn’t actually ban monsters from my town, but as soon as the first business hung a “Humans Only” sign, a big chunk of the others quickly followed suit. I thought that eventuallythe closed-mindedness would end. That the town I’d spent my entire life in would come around and at leastacceptmonsters, even if they didn’t actively welcome them.
Nope. And it didn’t stop with blatant speciesism. Town council became an angry, pitchfork-wielding mob. Okay, fine, there were no pitchforks, and it wasn’t a mob so much as a handful of ignorant jerks, but still. They forced one of the longtime resident families out of their home after learning the Wolferds had morewolfin them than just their name—they’re all wolf shifters. And it’s not as if town council unearthed their secret. The Wolferds outed themselves via an interview withMonster Lifemagazine. They’ve always been nice people and, according to the article, they’ve never caused any harm to humans while in their wolf form.
Even town council didn’t dispute that, and I’m sure if they had even a shred of flimsy evidence, they would’ve slapped that card down on the table. But they didn’t try to pin anything on the Wolferds. They just booted them out of their home for no reason other than their nonhuman status, under the guise of expropriation. Such bullshit.
It’s been five years since the Great Revelation. The Wolferds shouldn’t have to hide their heritage and true identity. The magazine article was genuine and heartwarming, and should’ve hit their fellow townsfolk—my fellow townsfolk—in the feels. When it did the opposite, and they were borderline-forcibly ousted from the home that’d been in their family for generations, I had to get outof there, even if only for a week and a bit. All I can afford on a waitress’s wage in a town where most people are as stingy with their tips as they are with their open-mindedness.
So here I am, in oneMonster Life’s “Ten Monster-Inclusive Destinations You Won’t Want to Miss This Summer” and yes, I did make sure to tell every bigoted person I know where I was taking my vacation and spending those hard-earned tips they gave me. Since my boss was one of those bigots, I may need to find a new job when I go back. If he fires me for being openly pro-integration, he can stuff my uniform apron up his prejudiced ass.
That’s a post-vacation problem. No more thinking about the miserable, tight-sphincter town I’m from while I’m here in happy Harmony Glen.