Page 24 of Horn in My Side

MAL

Mal should not have kissed Jasmine. He was an idiot of the highest order. But he couldn’t help himself.

Mal had no idea that she assumed he’d been texting with the pixie from last night. Why would he? He was not interested in Leila. When Jasmine casually suggested he go out with her, something inside him snapped and he gave in to his impulses.

Should he not have kissed her? Yes.

But he didn’t regret doing it. After weeks of wondering, he finally knew how she tasted and how perfectly her curves fitted against his body.

“You-you don’t have to apologize.”

“I’m your boss. I shouldn’t have—”

“If you think you forced me, Mal, y-you’re wrong.” Despite the tremble in her voice, she sounded resolved. “I let you kiss me—I wanted you to.”

He let out an internal groan. She was not making this easy.

“And I’ve been wanting to do that for the longest time.

” Since he met her, really. “But I wasn’t sure .

. . You were so . . . I couldn’t . . .” The scent of her perfume hung in the air, doing something to the synapses in his brain so it refused to send the proper signals to his tongue.

When he managed to collect his thoughts, he said, “We can’t do this, Jasmine.

There can’t be anything more than a professional relationship between us. ”

Disappointment passed across her face, but was swiftly replaced by a serious expression. “You’re leaving in five months.”

“I have to. Sooner if I hear back from that job.”

“You don’t have to explain anything, Mal, really.

” The fact that she sounded so resigned when her hair was disheveled, and her lips were still swollen from their kisses made him feel like an absolute heel.

“And don’t think I let you kiss me because you’re my boss.

I’m still planning to buy this place from you, legally and fairly. ”

“No—no! Of course I don’t think that’s why you kissed me.” Gaku help him, why was this so hard? “It’s not you, Jasmine. You’re beautiful and kind and warm. Anyone would be lucky to be with you. It’s not right, knowing I can’t offer you more than a few months of fun.”

A dark eyebrow cocked up. “And what if I want to have some fun?”

She was really not making this easy. “I’m not that type of guy, Jasmine. And I can’t stay here.”

The atmosphere grew thick around them as that truth hung between them. After a heartbeat, she broke the silence.

“You didn’t want to come here in the first place. This isn’t your home.”

“It’s not that exactly.” He searched for a way to explain it to her. “Remember what you said to me a couple weeks ago? About how Dewberry Falls, and the shop feel like home to you?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“For orcs, home isn’t a place. We believe we have two homes: our homeland where our people sprang from and our heart-home—ashak’roca—which we carry with us wherever we are.

It’s a state of mind where we are at peace and are content, and for me, that’s my work.

I love my job, not just because I’m paid well, or I get to travel the world.

It’s because it fulfills me, and as a builder orc, it brings me closer to my roots.

My father was a builder, you see. He died when I was ten years old. ”

“I’m so sorry, Mal.”

He flashed her a grateful smile. “I’m the last of our line, which is why I inherited all of Vrig’s assets.

When I’m working, it’s like my dad’s here, even now that he’s gone.

” He paused, trying to construct the words in his head so that she would understand.

“This job I’m waiting on, it’s not just any normal constructing job.

It’s the renovation of our historic center back in Ghalad-Dur, the orc homelands.

It doesn’t pay much, but it’s not about the money. ”

“It’s about your legacy,” she said in a soft voice. “Your traditions. And working on it would make you feel closer to your father.”

Mal shouldn’t have doubted that Jasmine would understand perfectly. “If he were alive, he would have done everything he could to get that job. Maybe we would have worked on it together too.”

“Oh, Mal . . .” Her small, soft hand covered his. “I’ve no doubt that would have made him happy.”

“He’d be so proud if I got the job.”

“I think he’d be proud regardless.” Her grip tightened on his hand before she let go.

“This job would take up all my time. I’d have to move back to the homelands until I was done, maybe two or three years, though from experience it’ll be closer to five.

I would also need to leave the moment I hear from them.

That’s why I can’t guarantee you anything more than a couple of months of fun.

” And she deserved so much more than that.

“You didn’t have to explain all that, but thank you. Truth be told, I’m not that type of girl, either. If we got involved and you had to leave . . . it would be too hard, emotionally.”

Her admission sent his hearts soaring, but at the same time, wrapped him in fear.

“Besides, you’re right. We should keep our relationship professional. Anything more would muddy things between us,” she added.

Her words did not give him relief, nor did they ease the ache of wanting her. Perhaps he’d always want her, but regardless, this was the right decision for both of them. “Agreed.”

“We should forget this happened.”

“Yes, we should.” Though that was highly unlikely for him.

The taste and the feel of her body would haunt him for the next few months.

Possibly for years to come. Even now, his raging erection refused to abate, and the following nights would be spent dreaming of her as he stroked himself to what he knew would only be a temporary state of relief.

“I’ll head h-home, i-if that’s okay.” She scooted to the counter and grabbed her purse. “Would you mind closing up? The upstairs is done, but—”

“I’ll take care of everything down here.”

“Are you sure—”

“Yes. You have a system.” He nodded at the clipboard by the first row of pens. “I won’t mess it up.”

“Th-thanks.”

Jasmine scuttled out the door like she had the devil after her. And who could blame her? This whole thing was awkward, and it was entirely his fault for giving in to temptation and kissing her.

Mal let out a resigned grunt as he grabbed the first clipboard off the hook.

In a couple months, he’d be gone; maybe he’d even hear back from the Historical Society sooner.

At this point, he was desperate for any word.

Losing the bid would be disappointing, but had always been a possibility.

At the very least, he could line up his next job and leave Dewberry Falls—and start the process of forgetting Jasmine Gonzalez.

Mal checked the time on his watch, making sure he left the house so that he would arrive at the pet shop after noon.

In the last week, he’d done his best to avoid Jasmine.

He still went to Fantastic Tails every day, because he’d already made a long list of things he wanted to do around the shop.

Despite his resolve to stay away from her, he’d made a promise to help, and an orc always kept his promise.

So he’d stuck to his early schedule, arriving before she did in the morning and usually stayed late or left before she did, so they hardly ran into each other.

Neither had planned it that way, but that’s how it turned out, as if they had an unspoken agreement to stay out of each other’s way.

However, every single night, he sat in the kitchen, waiting until the light in the garage apartment switched off at ten thirty on the dot.

Today, however, he’d had to stay home because of a conference call, which didn’t finish until ten a.m. That was the time Jasmine was usually busiest on the main floor.

To avoid running into her, he decided to head to Fantastic Tails during lunchtime.

She usually locked up and went to eat her lunch at the park.

He could not risk seeing her again. It would just be too awkward now, after their kiss.

Maybe once things went back to normal, things could return to the way they were.

Not that he knew when things would go back to normal.

Perhaps they never would, and they would have to tiptoe around each other for the next five months.

The very idea of it had tempted him into calling the Orc Historical Society directly to ask if they intended to pick him or not.

Thankfully, he spoke with his parents again, and he decided to follow his stepfather’s advice to just leave it be for now.

With the “Closed” sign displayed on the window, Mal breathed a sigh of relief and headed inside—he promptly locked eyes with Jasmine, standing behind the counter, brown doe gaze wide with surprise.

“M-Mal,” Jasmine stuttered. “You’re here.”

“Uh, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Meeting ran late. No lunch today?”

“I, uh . . .” Her gaze flicked toward the tank. “I was worried . . .”

“Worried? Is something wrong?” With his long strides, he crossed the room in no time.

“Everything seems fine . . . Seals are holding . . . The base is steady.” He gave the tank a thorough inspection.

“I could probably touch up that one corner.” His fingertip ran over the rough spot he’d missed with his sander.

“No-no, it’s all fine,” Jasmine said as she appeared beside him. “I know this sounds weird, but I just didn’t want to leave it alone. So, I quickly ate my lunch and decided to stay and do some inventory.”

“I see.”

The seconds of agonizingly awkward silence stretched between them. Just a week ago, he’d had her pressed up against the glass and—

“Well, I should—”

“Do you—” she said at the same time.

Another uneasy pause.

“Have you—”

“Did the—”

Mal let out a huff. “I’ll be in the office. I’ll take care of that corner later.”

“Okay.”

Mal cursed to himself as he retreated. Straying away from their unspoken agreed schedule had caused this encounter, so from now on, he would never come in late.