Page 47 of Falling for the Orc All-Star
“Crazy old dog lady. Probably with big glasses, too much lipstick, and more kibble than people food in the house. Yelling at kids to get off my lawn as I hold a screaming chihuahua under each arm.”
That thought makes me laugh. “I want in. Can I be the little old Orc next to you? Cardigan, bald spot, waving my cane as I hobble after our pack of graying mutts, cursing my bum knee?”
Ingrid chuckles. “That’s your dream?”
“Mmm, no. Not exactly. You might not want to hear my dream.”
“I dare you.”
“That’s dirty. I can’t resist a dare from you.” I lean down and let my lips find the side of her neck, noting the way she shivers when my tusk hits the soft spot under her jaw. “I like when you play dirty, by the way.”
Her voice comes out high and breathy. “We’re in a public place.”
“And?”
“King!”
“Okay, okay.” I sit back up with a smirk. “My dream is standing with you in the rink, watching our son score his first goal and our daughter twirl on her skates, or sitting out in the grass behind the high school and watching them play baseball, or football, or whatever they want. And we all go home together to a house full of laughter and hugs, and way too many gym bags, and a closet that overflows with sports equipment, and dogs that are always in the way because they just love us so much.” I stop and have to swallow hard.
Because I can see it. I can see these kids, feel Ingrid’s hand in mine as we hold our breaths when they play, I can feel the crush of dogs rushing past our legs the second we come home, and the skitter of little paws. “All the real things. Nights in bed with you. Dinnerswhere my leg presses against yours under the table. Getting old and gray, and watching our grandkids and dogs romp in the leaves in the backyard. A big, big backyard,” I whisper. “And a house with a porch with a railing, so we can lean on it together.”
Ingrid is looking at me. Chip and Daisy have realized this is not ball-throwing time, and they’re sitting next to us, panting, looking up at me like I’m the one to focus on. Maybe I am. Maybe I can be important to them— and to their owner.
“You like?” I finally dare to ask.
She nods, not speaking.
“Not too much, though?” I ask, wishing I knew as much about interpreting silence as I did about understanding an opponent’s body language.
“I loved that. A lot. No guy I’ve ever dated has done the whole ‘I want to grow old with you’ spiel.”
“Not a spiel.”
“What ... what if our kids don’t like sports?”
“I’ll be the obnoxiously loud parent at the clarinet recital,” I shrug.
“What if they’re allergic to dogs?”
“We get goldfish, I guess. Or hairless dogs and allergy shots?” I shrug again. These are little things. “You are the part that matters. You and home.”
“I might not be able to have kids. I’m older and I’ve... I’ve never tried,” Ingrid gives a weak, worried smile. “I’m older than you.”
“Orcs can live a little longer than humans, and there are tons of kids that need homes. Foster care is a thing. Oh—and hey, there are surrogates, adoptions...” I trail off. “If you shared my dreams, I would find a way to make them come true.” It’s an oath. A pledge. I just hope she knows it.
I think by the way she suddenly grips my hand and squeezes that she wants to believe me—but a War Maiden isn’t so easily won. I know that.
Ingrid coughs. “This was the big idea you had?”
“What? No! Oh, no, but I guess this is related, in a way. I was thinking about the residents at Hilltop Home and how they love pets. About how, for some people, a pet is all the family they have left, something that is just theirs, that stops them from being lonely.” My voice gets excited. “People don’t have enough money to care for the pets, right? Or maybe they’re too frail and need someone younger and healthier to take care of the dogs and cats when they can’t. What if... What if I got fundraising through the Lumberjack fans and the community to cover the adoption fees and the vet bills? One of the vets in town is a satyr, and his vet tech is married to a minotaur—the supernatural community kind of sticks together, you know? I could ask if we could get a discount for anyone in the program. I’m going to be laid up for a while—I could see if I could speak to some of the high school classes about donating service hours to help at Hilltop Home with dog walking. I could see if Pet Village would make weekly deliveries to the residents so transportation and getting supplies wouldn’t be a problem.”
Ingrid is staring at me with wide, shining eyes, lips slightly parted.
“So. What do you think?”
Chapter Sixteen: Ingrid
What do I think?