Page 43 of Beyond the Cottage (After the Fairytale #1)

Chapter 43

G retta scanned the crowded restaurant, ignoring the bill that had been sitting on their table for twenty minutes. The muted globe lights and cigar smoke wafting from the club lounge gave the room a hazy aura.

She pointed to a vampire wearing tight, vermilion breeches and a billowing yellow tunic. He leaned on the mahogany bar, sipping a martini as he chatted up a trio of women.

“What about him?” she asked.

Ansel glanced that way thoughtfully. “An artist. Modern, not classical. His work features bold, saturated colors, and you secretly wonder if a five-year-old painted them. His patrons are new money who each claim they discovered him first, while the old guard sneers because color is vulgar.”

Gretta snorted a giggle. She pointed to a stern-mouthed fairy with a tight chignon and wings hidden under a dour gray caplet. “Her?”

“A senator’s wife. She married young, when she was naive and dewy-eyed. Now she’s sick of being his glorified housekeeper. She’s testing the waters for her own political career.”

Gretta’s brow shot up. For a hermit from the sticks, he was shockingly good at this.

“Close,” she said. “Her husband is the mayor, and she got elected to senate last year.”

Ansel flashed her a cocky smile.

“Hmm,” she said, searching the room.

She was running out of compelling characters. She considered a boy in his late teens. Chest puffed, he gazed adoringly at his beer, oblivious to the foam mustache clinging to the peach-fuzz on his upper lip. “Him?”

“Too easy,” Ansel said. “His big brother thinks he’s old enough to try his first beer. Their mother will murder them both when she smells it on his breath.”

Glass shattered. Heads collectively swiveled. At the end of the bar, a nymph darted to her feet, arms spread, mouth agape. Her flushed cheeks matched the wine stain soiling her gown.

A troll sat beside her. He leaned back with his elbows on the bar, eyes roaming the beleaguered nymph. He shrugged apologetically, but a smile played at his lips.

The room went so quiet, Gretta heard flatware clatter in the kitchen.

“How clumsy I am,” the troll said. “Apologies.”

The nymph shrieked at her ruined dress. “You did that on purpose .”

“Never say so. I’m merely an ungainly beast. A bit of bumbling comes with the territory, I’m afraid.”

The nymph’s delicate hands clenched. Though the troll outweighed her four times over, she stepped to him, getting in his face. “I see rudeness does, too. If you heard something you disliked, maybe you shouldn’t have eavesdropped on a private conversation.”

“If you’re so offended by strangers minding their own business, maybe you ought to scurry back to your little forest.”

“Maybe trolls should have never come out from under their stinking bridges!”

The room collectively gasped. The troll stood, and the nymph stumbled back a step.

“Allow me to replace your drink.” He sniffed in her direction. “Cheap red, was it?”

“You’ll replace my gown , you stupid oaf!”

Cool as he pleased, the troll produced a thick billfold and sprinkled cash at her feet with a grin.

Two servers finally intervened, and they ushered the nymph away because they had no hope of moving her adversary. As they hauled her off, promising to comp her bill, the troll doffed his hat and strolled from the restaurant.

When the room resumed its noisy chatter, Ansel and Gretta stared at each other.

“Wow,” she said. “Alright. Tell me their story.”

“She insulted him. He overheard and—”

“ Boring . You can do better.”

They watched the nymph lay into the servers. The manager scampered over, hand on his chest.

Ansel’s dark eyes gleamed in the candlelight. “They’ve met before.”

“Have they?” Gretta’s lips curled. “Where?”

“A grocery store.”

She shook her head.

“A coffee shop?”

She stifled a yawn.

Ansel sank into his chair, thinking. “A party. They met at a masked ball.”

“Interesting… How did a troll and a nymph find themselves on the same guest list?”

“He, ah, wasn’t a guest. He’s a working man.”

“That suit cost more than three month’s rent. And he flung around an awful lot of cash for a caterer.”

Ansel shook his head. “No, he’s not in hospitality. He’s…a bodyguard. The most decorated in his field, as a matter of fact. Guarded the chancellor himself.” When Gretta nodded her approval, he continued. “Naturally, the nymph’s father bears his own prejudices, but his beloved daughter’s safety comes first. With her acerbic tongue, she’s made enemies on every continent.”

Gretta smiled wider. She’d forgotten about his gift for storytelling. In the cottage, they used to spend hours spinning yarns for each other.

Getting into it, she nodded solemnly. “The King of Evermore himself put a hit out on her.”

“Indeed. And one doesn’t trifle with wood sprites. Anyway, her father threw the ball in her honor. The troll was there protecting her despite his own biases because it was a highly lucrative gig. Then a masked assassin—they were all wearing masks, so it was really quite a clever plan—stormed in with a pistol.”

“If she’s such a pariah, why didn’t they frisk the partygoers?”

“Oh, they did. But this assassin was especially clever. You see, he was the troll’s very own assistant .”

Gretta let out a theatrical gasp. “A betrayal? By his own assistant?”

“A truly shocking turn of events. So now the troll is beside himself with shame, wondering if he’ll ever work in this town again. But luckily, his assistant had never been much of a marksman. He missed by a mile, and the troll whisked the nymph off before the bastard could reload.”

If this were a novel, she’d read to the very the end. “Then what happened?”

“He hied her off to safety, and they each lived happily ever after. Relatively speaking.”

She thunked her chin on her palm with a sigh. Maybe there was something to be said for skipping the end, after all.

Their server walked past with a pointed glance at their check. Gretta pretended not to see.

“I think you’re misinformed,” she said. “Way too many sparks flew tonight. Their first encounter couldn’t have ended so tidily.”

“Well…perhaps he brought her to the library? And professional obligation demanded he remain with her until the danger passed?”

Gretta’s smile turned wicked. “He brought her to her bedroom . And duty is very important to him, but her heaving bosom and sultry look might’ve had something to do with it.”

At the mention of a bosom, Ansel’s eyes flicked over Gretta’s well-displayed breasts. It happened so fast, she wasn’t certain she didn’t imagine it. Still, her skin warmed.

“I may have mixed up the rooms,” he said. “But why would she give him a sultry look?”

“Because he protected her. She was used to everyone hating her, and his gallantry put butterflies in her belly. She also couldn’t help noticing the troll was rather strapping.” Their tale was beginning to sound remarkably familiar, but wasn’t the best fiction grounded in real life?

“Hm. I imagine he also had trouble resisting her charms?”

“So much trouble. She was a handful, and they’d done nothing but bicker all night, but he couldn’t deny it got his blood flowing. And she thought she hated him at first, but she was starting to see him in a new light.”

Ansel raised his brow. “A pity the situation called for restraint.”

“Yeah. You have to give them points for trying to resist.”

“I take it they failed?”

“Miserably. Even in the best of times, they both had a taste for the forbidden.”

Silence stretched, crackling with energy. The bustling restaurant seemed to disappear around them.

“…What happened in her bedroom?” Ansel asked.

His deepening voice spread a warm flush through Gretta. The ache between her legs sent up a flare, warning her this was getting out of hand, that she was taking it too far. She ought to finish the story by telling him the troll helped the nymph with her taxes, or something.

Except…she didn’t want to.

Gretta leaned on her elbows, letting her scandalous neckline dip lower, gratified when Ansel noticed. “Our heroic troll carried the nymph to her bed. In the tussle, her hair had come loose, and her gown had torn at the shoulder. Panting, she asked if he was quite sure the bullet hadn’t grazed her.”

“A good bodyguard is nothing if not thorough,” Ansel said to her cleavage.

“Mm-hmm. So he ran his palms down her arms, up her ribs, checking for injuries. He found none, but he accidentally grazed her breast. Their gazes locked. They both stopped breathing. He expected her to scorn him, to run off screaming. Surely, she’d fire him on the spot.”

Ansel’s voice went deeper. “But she didn’t.”

“Not a chance. The nymph arched her back to give him better access, and the torn sleeve slipped down her shoulder. She moaned, shocked by her desires, but helpless to resist them.”

He shifted in his chair. “Liked him that much, did she?”

“She craved him. She knew she shouldn’t, it could only end in disaster. But her hands roamed his chest, his stomach, going lower to stroke his—”

“May I take your bill?”

Ansel blinked. He slammed back in his chair like he’d been caught fondling Greta under the table. She’d always liked this server, but just then, she could have happily shot him.

The man politely waited, and she sighed. “I’m still on Senator Grey’s tab.” She scrawled her name on the bill and left a tip on the table. “Thanks for everything.”

With a nod, the server wandered off, and Ansel straightened. Gretta took her time finishing a dinner roll, trying to swallow a lump of anxiety.

She wasn’t ready for this to end. The night had been more fun than she could remember having in years, maybe ever. So what was her next move?

What did she want ?

For damn sure, she was sick of pretending they were normal friends. It had become another losing battle, and like the nymph, Gretta had never been much good at resisting temptation. Sure, their chemistry might eventually flame out. Yes, things could get complicated.

But fuck it. Hadn’t their friendship survived worse?

Ansel stood and pushed in his chair. “Thank you for dinner. It was pleasant.”

How do I keep this going?

Gretta brightened. “Your case! You need to come pick it up.”

He nodded, and she looped her arm in his. She had another half hour to convince him to seize the forbidden with her.