Page 31 of Grumpy Pucking Orc (Orcs on Ice #1)

Jordan

L eaving Ozar last night had been so difficult.

I’d been attracted to him the moment I’d seen him on the ice during their game, and that attraction had grown each time I’d seen him since.

It wasn’t just lust. I liked him. He was interesting.

He made me laugh. He made me feel admired, wanted, cherished… loved.

There had been some pretty good sex in my past, but nothing had rocked my world like last night with Ozar.

It wasn’t just magnetism and orgasms though.

Something had happened when we’d had sex, and I just couldn’t explain it.

Everything had clicked together in a split second—physical ecstasy, emotional connection, admiration, respect, affection. Love.

And an odd linking that felt as if my very soul was now connected to his.

All I’d wanted to do was spend the night in his arms, cancel my appointments for the next day, and remain in his bed until the sun went down again.

But I was a professional who had her own practice, and there were patients who’d planned their days around their appointments.

As much as my heart wanted otherwise, my responsibilities and commitments weren’t something I took lightly.

I knew that Ozar respected that—even admired that in me.

He’d watched me drive off, and I’d looked at him in my rearview mirror until I could no longer see him.

Distance seemed to be no hinderance to the strange connection we’d forged last night, though.

I’d felt those silken tethers as I’d slept, as I’d driven to the gym, even as I’d showered and dressed, and driven to work.

This was crazy. I couldn’t be so in love after just one date, after having known him for only a few days.

Was this some orc magic? The elves were said to have the ability to enthrall a human’s mind.

Did orcs have the same sort of skill? Or was this truly a case of fated, insta-love, soulmates that the romance novels I read on vacation extolled?

As flustered as I was over last night, I still kept to my schedule.

Thankfully Judy had managed to keep her stomach contents inside her this morning.

I spent forty minutes at the gym running on the treadmill before showering and getting into the office early.

I was just pouring a cup of coffee before my first appointment when Shanelle came into the back to tell me that Abby was up front.

Concerned that my friend’s unplanned visit meant she had a dental emergency, I left my coffee and rushed up front.

“Crown?” I asked her. “Pain? Broken tooth?”

“Nope. I’m here about this.” She slapped a copy of the Baltimore Sun on the front counter.

Part of my morning routine involved reading the paper, but it was the online version and since I had a limited amount of time, I tended to hit certain sections and call it done.

Clearly, I’d missed an important article, because on the Sunday edition sitting on the counter was a picture of Ozar in a playground full of children.

I grabbed the paper and read the article, looking up at Abby with wide eyes once I was done.

“Are your ovaries exploding?” she asked me. “Because mine sure as hell are.”

“I might be having triplets just reading this,” I replied.

“No birth control can hold up against this kind of thing,” she added.

“Which might be a problem given what we were up to after dinner last night,” I told her.

Abby’s mouth fell open, then she screamed, throwing both hands in the air before hugging me. It was weird. I mean, good sex was a cause for celebration, but it wasn’t like I’d won the Nobel Prize or cured cancer or anything.

“I’ve got a good feeling about this orc,” she told me. “Especially after seeing this article in the Sun . Kids, Jordan. The guy loves kids. And they love him.”

My face heated up. It’s not that I had a ticking biological clock, but at thirty, I had frequently thought about what my future might hold.

The career was a given, but my daydreams had often included a husband and had sometimes included a couple of children.

It wasn’t top of my priority list, but the knowledge that Ozar was so easy and friendly with little humans warmed my heart.

The guy had a whole lot of checks in the positive column, and this was a giant addition to those traits I admired in a guy.

“Sooo.” Abby glanced over at Shanelle, who was obviously listening as she pretended to go through patient charts. “How was last night?”

“Good.” I eyed Shanelle, trying to keep this suitable for work. “We had a lovely dinner. He’s a good cook and an excellent host. We played with some rubber knives, then…relaxed.”

Abby snorted at “relaxed.” “Wait…rubber knives ? Is that a euphemism for something naughty?”

“No, he had rubber weapons, and he and I sparred. He was teaching me self-defense.”

Shanelle had given up all pretense of doing work at this point.

“That’s a good excuse for the two of you to get handsy with each other. Not that you need an excuse,” Abby said.

“It absolutely led to romance.” I’d lowered my voice, but Shanelle edged closer. Which was fine. My going on a date with Ozar wasn’t something I wanted to hide, but with her listening, I wasn’t about to tell Abby anything about the spicy part of the evening.

“Meet me and Willa after work for drinks and tell us all the details,” Abby insisted. “The guy cooks. He loves kids. I’m hoping the mattress aerobics add yet one more plus in the tally.”

There were a whole lot of pluses in the tally so far. A whole lot.

“I’m going to the hockey stadium after work to skate with Ozar, then I wanted to take him for ice cream. He’s never had it. Can you imagine?”

“A world without ice cream? No, I can’t imagine that at all. What sort of hell is his homeland?” Abby teased. “And are you sure you want to skate with him? We saw him at the hockey game. He’s liable to fall and crush you within the first five seconds.”

“He was better than anyone else on the team,” I reminded her. “I’m going to teach him a few things because he wants to try to make something of this team. And yes, I trust him not to fall on me. ”

She quirked an eyebrow. “He wants to make something of the team ? Make what of the team? Because the Tusks are not going to be walking home with the cup anytime in the next decade. They’re a group of orcs who don’t know how to play hockey and have never skated before up against teams that have been on the ice before they could walk and who have lived and breathed hockey from grade school on. ”

“If they score a point occasionally, it’s a start,” I argued.

“Don’t underestimate them. They’re clearly gifted when it comes to physical activities, and they learn quickly.

They might suck this year, but they’ll suck less each game they play, and I’m sure that within a few years, they might actually win a game. Maybe two.”

“Hopeless optimist,” Abby teased. “But I’m not going to argue with you about your boyfriend’s hockey team—especially because I’m longing for some comped tickets.”

The door opened, and my first patient for the day came in so I waved my hands at Abby. “I’ve gotta get back to work. Tomorrow night I’ll meet you girls for happy hour and spill the goods.”

My friend pushed the paper toward me. “Keep that. I’m not sure Willa or I can wait for tomorrow night to hear the juicy details, but we’ll try.”

The rest of the day was a crazed blur. I had my implant procedures, an emergency root canal, and a tricky set of enamels that caused me to work late.

Just as I was getting ready to finish for the evening, the rep with DarRafi Inc.

returned my call about their supplying me with medical equipment for the nonhuman population.

It made me extra late leaving the office, but by the end of the day, we had an approved account with DarRafi and they had emailed me a link with access to a library of training videos on their products .

If my plans had been anything besides spending time with Ozar, I would have canceled and spent the evening watching those videos and going through the catalogue of products.

Instead, I rushed home and changed—four times.

It wasn’t easy finding an outfit that would work for skating, but was still sexy—but not too sexy.

I got the feeling that Ozar’s affections mirrored mine, but just in case, I didn’t want to make our relationship all about the physical.

Even though I fully intended on inviting him home to my house tonight.

Finally, I decided on black yoga tights paired with the Baltimore Tusks jersey I’d ordered after last weekend’s game layered over a long-sleeve silk T-shirt.

It was warm enough that I skipped the coat and threw on a down-filled vest instead.

Sticking my phone and my wallet into a small cross-body bag, I blew the dust off my skates and left for the stadium.

The parking lot was vacant aside from a couple of cars, and the main entrance was locked up tight with those folding metal security gates. I walked left to a gray, windowless door and pressed the intercom button.

There was a pause while the guard checked my name, then I heard a click . I wrestled the heavy door open and walked across a small room to the guard booth. I slid my ID through the slot in the probably bulletproof glass. The man checked it, radioed for Ozar, then slid my ID back to me.

I’d barely stuffed it back into my purse before another door opened, a huge green, muscle-bound orc blocking the entrance.

“Jordan.”