Page 25 of Falling for the Grumpy Orc (Monsters of Saltford Bay #1)

Chapter Twenty

Cassidy

How could I have ever found him attractive?

Jason lifts his face at my approach and he gives me that crooked smile that makes women’s knees go weak. His ash-blond hair is as perfectly made as ever, just long enough to fall on his forehead but not long enough to look disheveled.

A boy. That’s what he looks like to me now. He looks like a boy playing grown-up. Compared to Gerralt, he’s exactly that. And I’m done playing.

I slide into the seat across from him, searching for the flutter of anxiety in my chest that thinking about him usually brings since that fateful day.

Nothing. Nada. It’s like looking at a complete stranger.

The Wandering Gnome buzzes with morning activity around us, the clink of silverware, the gentle hum of conversation, the rich aroma of cinnamon and fresh coffee, but all I can focus on is the man sitting across from me, looking exactly as he did the day I left him.

The only thing that’s changed is me.

"Cassidy! Your usual today?" Mathilda calls from behind the counter, her gnomish frame barely visible except for the elaborate bun piled high on her head.

"Just coffee for now. Thanks, Mathilda!" I reply, forcing a smile.

Several patrons nod my way. Mrs. Henderson from the tackle shop gives me a little wave, and Mr. Pierce, the elderly goblin from the parks department, briefly glances up from his crossword puzzle and gives me a faint nod that, coming from him, counts as a standing ovation.

"How's the lodge coming along?" asks one of the O'Malley twins from the next table, syrup dripping from his fork.

"Getting there," I answer. "Should have the floor finished by next week."

I turn back to Jason, who watches this exchange with thinly veiled disdain. He's dressed sharply, his tailored suit out of place among the flannel shirts and worn jeans of the breakfast crowd.

He checks his expensive watch in a flashy gesture that exposes the ridiculously expensive item to anyone who happens to be looking. It’s a habit I always found obnoxious, but now I find it simply childish .

“This better be quick.” I don’t bother with niceties and Jason’s grin lowers by just a fraction. It’s barely there, but I know him enough to see he’s rattled by my lack of reaction. Or more specifically, my lack of emotion. “I have a booth to attend to at the Harvest Festival this afternoon.”

“A harvest festival?” Jason scoffs, then his grin fades. “You’re serious? Is this why you came all the way to this shitty little town? To sell, what, handmade little trinkets under a tent for two dollars apiece?”

“It’s none of your business what I’m doing or with whom.” I keep my voice even, but underneath, anger is simmering. I don’t know when it happened, but I’m feeling strangely defensive about the little town of Saltford Bay. “What do you want, Jason?” I ask point-blank. “Why am I here?”

Jason lifts his coffee cup with manicured fingers, taking a tiny sip, wincing before placing it back on the saucer with practiced precision. The gesture is so familiar it makes my stomach clench.

"Come on, Cass. Don’t be like that." His voice carries that honeyed tone I once mistook for affection, but now I hear what lurks beneath. Condescension, ownership. “It’s good to see you.”

I lift the menu even though I already know I’m not going to order anything apart from the coffee. It gives me something to look at besides his face. Because his words make me want to punch it.

“Do me a favor and skip the pleasantries.” I hear my own cutting tone and I’m quite pleased with myself. By the look on Jason’s face, he didn’t expect me to react this way either. “Just sign the papers for the sale of the house and let’s be done with each other.”

Jason leans back, folding his arms across his chest. His tailored suit looks ridiculously out of place among the homey wooden beams and mismatched chairs of the diner. Like he's a corporate alien who landed in the wrong dimension.

"There was a time you actually smiled when you saw me."

“And you made sure that time was over when you slept with another woman in our bed,” I reminded him with the same matter-of-fact tone.

I study him, really study him, for the first time since sitting down.

This man once occupied every corner of my world.

I built my life around his needs, his wants, his schedule.

Now, looking at him feels like examining an old photograph of someone I used to know.

The details are familiar, but the connection is gone.

Mathilda, the gnome proprietor, approaches our table with a friendly smile that fades slightly when she catches the tension between us. Her pointed ears twitch as she pours me a cup of her famous coffee.

"What can I get for you folks this morning?"

"I won’t stay long. Just the coffee for me, thank you," I say, returning her smile with as much warmth as I can muster.

"Just another coffee," Jason adds without looking at her, his eyes fixed on me.

Mathilda nods, casting me a sympathetic glance before refilling Jason’s cup and bustling away. I watch her go, momentarily wishing I could follow.

"I just don't want you making a mistake, Cass." Jason's voice pulls me back. "You're living in a run-down pile of wood instead of a real home. From what I heard, you spend your days alone with some orc contractor. I’m worried about you. "

My head snaps up, a chill running down my spine. How does he know about Gerralt? I've only told Silvia about it over the phone, and even then, not in detail.

"How do you know about that?" My voice comes out sharper than intended.

“Portland's not that far away.” Jason's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Word gets around in high circles."

Ugh. Now I know who sold me out.

“You spoke to my mother.” I sip my coffee and almost groan with satisfaction before the feeling leaves entirely when Jason’s smile broadens.

“She’s worried about you, too.”

She’s worried about what her friends will think when they learn I’m staying in Saltford Bay with an orc boyfriend.

Then I blink and I feel the smile spread on my face at the idea of spending more time with Gerralt. Because despite having spent only one night with him, I know this isn’t just a fling. This is real, more real than anything I’ve ever felt with Jason.

“I miss you.” Jason speaks in that low, deep tone he thinks is sexy. “I made a mistake and I know it, but you never even gave me a chance to explain to you how I felt. I thought you would at least give our marriage a chance instead of walking out like you did.”

Fingers reach across the table and wrap around my hand and I blink in surprise, realizing that Jason must have misinterpreted my smile.

I pull my hand away, resisting the urge to hurl my hot coffee at his face.

"You're stalling on signing because you think I'll come crawling back to you, is that it? "

Something flickers across Jason's face, guilt, maybe, that he's been caught. He takes a slow sip of his drink before answering.

"I wouldn't put it like that." His voice is smooth as glass, but there's something nervous in his eyes now.

"Everyone expected you to come home by now. You know that, right? I’ll forgive you for walking out if you come back to me, Cassidy.

" His lips curl slightly. "If you didn’t totally compromise yourself with that orc, that is. "

The words hit me like a splash of cold water, washing away any lingering doubts. This man never saw me as an equal. To him, I was just another possession, something to mold and keep. Like pretty furniture in his perfect home.

And I’ll never go back to this. I’ll never be a little trophy on his shelf again.

"I'd rather live in a crumbling house of my own making than return to a gilded cage with you." The words come out steady, stronger than I feel. “As for compromising myself with an orc, that orc worked harder to make me happy in the past few weeks than you did in our entire marriage.”

"You can’t be serious. An orc?" Jason tenses visibly, his jaw tightening. I can see him struggling to maintain his composure, to not let his mask slip completely. “How can you do this to me?”

"To you?" I shake my head, surprised at how easily I control my temper. “We’re divorced, Jason. The only thing still tying us together are those papers you’re stalling to sign. But you and me? We’re history.”

I reach into my bag and pull out the stack of papers that have been weighing me down for months. The sale agreement for our Portland house, the last tie binding us together .

I push the papers across the table, along with a pen. "Sign them, Jason. We're done."

His eyes narrow, fixed on the documents like they might bite him. For a long moment, I think he might refuse. Then, with jerky movements, he grabs the pen and scrawls his signature on each flagged line, his movements stiff and begrudging. He shoves them back at me without another word.

I slide the signed papers into my bag, a weight lifting from my chest that makes me feel like I can fly. This chapter of my life is finally, truly closed.

"Goodbye, Jason." I stand, already thinking far ahead.

As I turn to leave, movement outside the diner window catches my eye. A tall, bulky silhouette lingers at the edge of the street, half-hidden in the shadow of a storefront. The build, the posture makes me pause. From the distance, it looks like a troll. No, not just any troll.

Is that Bront Billings?

A flicker of unease worms its way up my spine. I turn sharply to get a better look, but the doorway to the restaurant swings open, momentarily blocking my view. When I can see the street again, the figure is gone.

Gerralt steps through the doorway, his massive frame filling the space completely. He spots me immediately, his amber eyes warming slightly before noticing Jason still seated at the table. His expression hardens into something dangerous.

Jason's eyes widen almost comically at the sight of Gerralt, then narrow with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. "So, is this your type these days? "

Gerralt moves to stand beside me, his presence solid and reassuring. I immediately lean into him, his presence warming something deep inside me.

"I'm whatever Cassidy wants me to be." I turn to look at him and he smiles down at me, then looks back at Jason with a grin that accentuates his tusks. “For as long as she wants me to be. I’m smart enough to know how lucky I am.”

The possessiveness in his tone sends a warm shiver through me. It's not controlling like Jason's was; it's protective, respectful of my choice in the matter.

Jason stares between us, visibly processing what he's seeing. The muscle in his jaw works as he clenches his teeth. For the first time, I see real understanding dawn in his eyes.

He lost me. Not just lost temporarily but lost completely.

"I hope it works out for you," he finally says, but the words sound hollow. "Maybe this time you'll find what you're looking for."

"I already have." My voice comes out soft but firm. "Goodbye, Jason."

Gerralt places his hand on the small of my back, a gentle pressure that feels like a promise. I lean into it without hesitation as we turn to leave.

The morning sunlight hits my face as we step outside, and I breathe deeply for what feels like the first time in years. The air tastes sweeter somehow, filled with the salt of the ocean and the earthy scent of fall.

"You okay?" Gerralt's deep voice rumbles beside me.

I look up at him, taking in his concerned expression, the way his tusks catch the light.

"Better than okay. I'm free. "

He nods, understanding without needing more explanation. That's one of the things I'm learning to cherish most about him, Gerralt doesn't push. He waits until I'm ready to share.

"He didn't give you any trouble?" His gaze drifts toward the disappearing figure of Jason, still walking to his car.

"Nothing I couldn't handle." I pat my bag where the signed papers rest. "He finally signed. The house will be sold, and I'll get my half. The lodge is saved."

Gerralt's lips curve into a small smile. "Good."

We start walking toward where his truck is parked, side by side with mine. As we turn the corner, that creeping sensation returns, like eyes burning into the back of my neck. I glance over my shoulder, scanning the busy sidewalk, but see nothing unusual. Just shoppers, locals going about their day.

"What is it?" Gerralt asks, instantly alert.

I hesitate. "I thought I saw someone watching me earlier. Someone who looked like a troll, but I’m not sure."

Gerralt's expression darkens. "Billings?"

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm just being paranoid." I force a smile. "It doesn't matter now. I've got you, I've got the papers signed, and we've got a festival to prepare for, right?"

After a moment, Gerralt nods, though his eyes still scan the street with predatory focus. "Right."

As we continue walking, his large hand finds mine, engulfing it completely. The warmth of his skin against mine chases away the last of my unease.

I’m free and nothing can darken the days ahead.