Page 9 of A Troll in the Hay
“Ooh, tempting asthatsounds, it’s not what I meant. I might not want to put them back on again because they’re like implements of torture.” Her free, easy laughter carries across the evening air.
“If the shoes hurt your feet so badly, why did you wear them?”
“Because that’s what human women do when they want to impress their date. We wear heels that kill our feet, dresses that don’t leave room to breathe, underwire bras that dig in and leave marks but make our boobs look good, and skimpy underwear that serves no purpose other than tempting our date to remove them.”
My mind swims with thoughts of what she’s wearing under her dress. Thoughts that make my cock thicken and press against the seam of my pants. This is not thetime or place to share those reactions with her. “You don’t need any of those things to impress me.”
“You’re sweet.”
“Not entirely,” I say, enjoying the way her eyes pop wide open, along with her mouth. “Since we’re speaking honestly.”
“You know you’re going to have to elaborate on that missile, right?”
“Missile?”
“Missile, as in, you dropped a bomb and hit the target. Your missile was a deliberately vague comment you knew would surprise and entice me.”
“True. That was my hope.”
“And that kind of straightforward honesty is another reason you’re a catch.”
“Then you are also a catch.”
She snorts a laugh. “That’s not how it works. I’ve never met a man who considered straightforward honesty in a woman as an ‘ooh, she’s a catch’ quality.” Steadying herself against me, she reaches down and removes her shoes, sighing with relief once she’s free of them. “I can’t believe I made it this far in these heels. I’ll say goodbye to them tomorrow at that thrift shop I saw downtown. Nifty Thrifty. Cute name for a cute shop in a cute town. Everything here is idyllic.”
“It’s a good place to live. If you ask around, I don’t think you’ll find a single person who regrets moving here.”
“Sounds like the farmer is planting seeds,” she says, smiling up at me. Always smiling. Always genuine.
“Perhaps I am.” I wait until she’s taken my hand again and we’ve started across the sand to circle back to her earlier comment. “These other men you’ve met who don’t value straightforwardness as highly as they should, did you want any of them to catch you?”
“Definitely not. I never liked anyone enough to even consider having a commitment, especially something long-term. And since they didn’t reach out to see me again either, they obviously felt as underwhelmed by our dates as I did.”
A solid answer, but lacking some specifics I hoped to learn. “And if you were to meet someone who didn’t disappoint you, would you wish to be caught then?”
At the water’s edge, she stops rather than follow the shoreline. “I might,” she says, releasing my hand and turning to face me. “I didn’t grow up with commitment on my mind, but I’m not against it, either. With the right person. This will probably sound unrealistic, and maybe old-fashioned, but if I’d only make it official and get married if I was sure in my heart and gut and soul that the relationship would stand the test of time. Which is ridiculous, of course, because it’s impossible to know that. There are never guarantees.”
I swallow down the urge to tell her thereareguarantees. That the bond between mates doesn’t just endure, it grows and blooms, flourishing from the connection. That I am that person for her, as she is for me. Too soon, even though I know she feels our connection is something more than casual attraction. More than the result of a chance encounter.
With the lake at her back and the sun hovering just above the horizon, she almost glows. An aura that seems to grow brighter with her smile when she playfully pokes my chest. “Your turn. No wiggling out of it with distractions this time. And after you’re done telling me why you’re still on the market, you can give me the details as to how you’re ‘not entirely’ sweet. And don’t worry about shocking me—I’m a diehard spicy romance reader.”
In all the years I’ve longed to meet my mate, I never imagined fate would choose a human. Nor someone outgoing and outspoken, regardless of their species. Now that I’ve met her, it makes sense. She is what my life was missing. I can only hope she will feel the same about me, because the thought of her leaving Harmony Glen makes my insides tighten into knots.
She gasps as the lake sends a wave far enough onto the beach to cover the tops of her feet. “I didn’t realize I was close enough to get wet,” she says, looking over her shoulder at the retreating water. “It’s nice, though. Warmer than I expected for early autumn. I think I’ll wade through it while we walk.”
“I’ll join you.”
Her gaze follows me as I crouch. Stays on me while I remove my shoes and stuff the socks into the toes, then roll up my jeans until they’re just below my knees. When I straighten and step deeper into the water, offering my hand, she smiles wide, her lovely teeth gleaming, like the full moon in a cloudless sky.
“This is perfect,” she says loudly enough to hear overthe rhythmic splashing we’re creating with each step. “I guess trolls like water?”
“Trolls are deeply connected with nature, and though most of our affinity is with the earth and plants, we enjoy the water as well.”
“In that case, would you like to go swimming with me sometime? There’s no swimmable natural water of any kind in my hometown, so I’d love to go out in the lake while I’m here, even though it’s kind of late in the season. I could go by myself during the daytime, but I’d rather go with you. Only if you want to, of course. If you do, we could come back another evening, so there are fewer people you’d have to be around.”
Thewhile I’m hereis like a punch to my gut and soul, but the hope I get from her willingness to accommodate my preference for solitude so we can spend time together is a counterbalance to the negative sensation. “I would like that very much. An evening swim here would be a good way for you to experience the freedom of open-water lake swimming. And if you want to try something different another day, I could take you to a place where I swim whenever I have time.”
“Ooh, I’m totally down. And intrigued. Is it in the river somewhere, or one of the little creek offshoots?”