Page 11

Beryl

“ N o,” Kjartan said with a finality that made me laugh. “Sorry. I spend very little money. I don’t go out or drink or have fancy hobbies. If it’s alright with you I would like to invite you. As a thank you for shopping with me.”

“Okay.” Mm, he made it so difficult for me to keep my distance with his adorable smiles. And the clumsy flirting interspersed with him being hot as fuck and saying this shit that kept me hard half the time.

“Do you think we can build this before the food gets here?” Kjartan asked me once he’d placed our order with the only restaurant that delivered to his place.

“Let’s try.”

We first had to move his couch to the other side and hoover under it, but we managed to get the frame built before the doorbell rang.

“I’ll go get it.”

Fuck, yes. Please go and get it already!

I had no idea what I was doing here, on our first official date, building a bed for a massive scarred Orc hunk with a great ass and social anxiety.

“Wow, that smells great. What is it?” I asked, getting up from the floor with a low groan when I stretched my cramping leg muscles.

“Are you alright?” Kjartan paused, surveying me from head to toe with narrowed eyes.

“Yep, I’m just getting old.” I smirked at him but he only looked confusedly back at me. “I’m kidding. My left knee just hurts when I kneel for longer than a few minutes. Food?”

“Oh, yes. I hope you like Italian?”

“Who doesn’t?” Grinning, I climbed out of the bed frame and plopped down at the table.

“I am sorry for this,” he muttered when he’d gotten us forks and glasses of water.

“For not serving me a glass of wine?” I raised my water at him.

“No. This date…it’s not going well, is it?”

“What? This is one of the best first dates I’ve ever had.” I gave him a slightly-too-gooey smile before focusing back on my pasta.

“For me too,” Kjartan rasped, briefly squeezing my free hand.

Over our dinner he told me a bit about his job at Struan Fox’s company.

“How long have you worked for him?”

His eyes hung on my mouth for a long moment as I slurped a forkful of spaghetti before he got his face under control.

“Uh, almost five years. He gave me a job after I had been here only for a few weeks. After I came over from Tír Suaite,” he added. I loved how it sounded from his lips, “Tyr Soocha,” deep and…magical, perhaps, like the land itself.

I watched him run his fingers absently over the scar at the side of his neck, to soothe or stir the memories, I didn’t know.

Once we’d finished eating, we got back to the task at hand. Building the slatted frame was easy with the help of the pro tools he had unearthed from a built-in cupboard in the little hallway. I found it strangely sexy to see him handling the electric screwdriver and hammer.

Eventually, we cut open the plastic wrapper on his mattress and heaved it up onto the frame. I’d prepared one of his fitted sheets that he put on while I grabbed the duvet and pillows from his couch. He had to wash the new ones first.

At long last, the rug was in its place, the new lamps were assembled and plugged in, and the plants, plaid, and throw pillows where I wanted them.

With a quick glance at the clock, I saw we had a couple more hours until I had to get on the last train back to Kirkmuir. I lit the thick dark green candle I’d added to his cart with matches he pulled from a kitchen drawer.

“What do you think?” I asked him when I’d placed it on the little dining table and turned to inspect the room. Dusk made the small lamps shine bright, and it looked comfy and relaxing.

Kjartan didn’t say anything, but he crossed the room and hugged me. “Thank you, Vindur. This is wonderful,” the enormous Orc said in a raspy voice, sounding genuinely touched. “It reminds me of home.”

“I’m glad you like it,” I murmured into his shirt.

How does he smell so good?

“Do you still want to try it out?” Kjartan whispered so quietly I had to strain my ears to understand what he was saying.

Before I could say more than “Yeah,” he walked me back a couple of steps and dropped onto the bed, taking me with him.

An embarrassing giggle escaped me when we collapsed on the mattress.

He raised himself up on his elbow, looking down at me for a moment before cradling my face in his massive palm.

“I’ve wanted to do this all afternoon,” he murmured as he ducked down and took my mouth in a gentle kiss.

That the way he kissed me made my toes curl and dick hard must’ve been a sign of my lack of action in the bedroom in the past few months.

But holy shit, I’d never been kissed like that before.

Like I mattered. Like he cared.