Page 2 of One Night with Her Grumpy Orc (Toothsome Monster Romance #3)
Betty
“G ood morning, Betty . Staying warm?” Ravena shivers as she enters the library, snowflakes flying off her wild black hair. Snow stomped off her boots onto the rug, she walks through the main room to my desk.
“Grev,” she says as way of greeting as the towering orc walks across the main aisle to disappear into the nonfiction stacks, a funny smile on her face. He doesn’t answer, as usual.
“Just barely,” I smile at her, determined not to let my teeth chatter. I’m wearing my warmest cardigan, fingerless mittens, and my wool socks, and it’s barely enough. “This late season blizzard surprised me. I already took the extra insulation off the windows and packed away my snow coat.” Ravena tuts and hands me a hot cup of tea, sets her books on the counter for me to check back in—all pirate romances—then leans on the counter and gives me her mischievous smile.
“It’s best not to assume too much when it comes to the comings and goings of Moonfang Haven...weather included. Now, tell me when I can set you up with my neighbor? The other one.” The owner of Moonlit Grounds wags her eyebrows at me. She’s been asking about setting me up with folks since I moved here a year ago to run and revive the library. Sometimes it’s a friend, sometimes it’s a cousin three-times removed. The woman has no end of people to set me up with.
What she doesn’t understand is that part of moving here and setting up my new life also involves healing from a horrible relationship. And eighteen months later, I’m still not ready to jump back into dating. All those emotions are still so close to the surface, divulging them at work would be a recipe for a disaster.
Instead of obliging her, I take a long sip of the herbal tea she brought me. “Oh, a new flavor! What is it?” I love it when Ravena makes new tea blends. They’re all so unique. I’ve heard her whisper to others about the magical properties of certain blends she makes. But she’s never admitted it to me. I’m hoping one day she’ll divulge her secrets. I’ve always wanted to be friends with a witch.
“Oh, you know, ginger, rosehips, and a little of this, a little of that. Proprietary. Now, about my neighbor...he’s out of town, but he’ll be back next week.” There’s no diminishing the twinkle in her eye.
A quick glance around, the teenagers working on their science project seem completely absorbed. Though I bet they don’t last much longer as the wind whips in through any gaps between the windows and walls in this old building. I half expect the whole town will shut down soon. The only other patron here is Grev, the youngest but largest of the Cragbeard brothers. Luckily, he’s hiding in his research somewhere in the stacks.
“Ravena, I can’t. No offense to your second cousin three-times removed and your other neighbor. I’m just...not ready.” She huffs out, but nods and smiles at me. “Now, there’s a new tentacled pirate romance I thought you might want to check out.” Now it’s my turn to wag my eyebrows at her.
She squeals, slaps her hand over her mouth when I give her my best librarian look, then whispers, “I don’t know. Might make me think of Gordon the wrong way when he comes in for coffee after a day of fishing.” More eyebrow wagging, and it takes everything I’ve got not to burst into giggles with her.
––––––––
T HE SNOW OUTSIDE IS no longer mesmerizing. Big flakes swirl and spin around the parking lot, which is empty of all cars except mine and Grev’s. And if the snowplow doesn’t come by soon, I may be stuck here. My trusty Civic is buried in the snow. Just thinking about digging it out to get home makes my toes curl in anticipation of the cold. Heavy white clouds shield Wolf Ridge Mountain from view. I imagine most of the town is tucked in at home, too.
The last of the straggling teenagers leave as the power flickers. Their howls of laughter as they jump into the snow delight me. Looking up at our antiquated lighting system, I send up a prayer, begging for the power to stay on long enough for Grev, the last patron, to leave.
Grev has a routine. He’s here Tuesday and Saturday evenings after work, and always stays until closing. He rotates through a variety of non-fiction topics—astronomy, blacksmithing, gardening. But once a week, he checks out one novel. A mystery. He’s read all of Agatha Christie. At my recommendation, he picked up the first Louise Penny book, and he seems to be hooked.
But he hates it whenever things don’t go as planned. We stayed open late for Christmas carolers, and he wrote a letter to the library’s superintendent about how un-library-like it was to be open for people to sing. Loudly . When I was late opening, due to a flat tire, he was out front pacing and growling when I finally pulled up. It seems unfair that the sexiest orc in town is also the grumpiest and most particular.
Not willing to have him grump at me just yet, I straighten my desk and put the reference materials away the teens were using for their science project. A flash of yellow catches my eye, and I walk to the window to see my salvation—the snowplow truck entering the library parking lot. Good. Now I need to get Grev to leave while the road is freshly plowed.
Picking up a few more items the teens left in the corner, the squealing brakes of the plow truck scare me, and I bump my head on a shelf as I jump up. Screeching sounds and icy wind and books blast me all at once as I’m flung into the stacks and everything goes dark.
When I open my eyes, it’s to the grip of powerful hands holding me close, keeping me warm. Reaching over, I pull Grev’s olive green face to mine. “I’ve been waiting a year for this.” And then I kiss him.
His lips are warm, soft. He smells like leather and caramel. As he moves over me, his weight is a welcome heat. My leg wraps around his, and a groan escapes from his chest that vibrates through me. There’s no denying the thick bulge pressed against me, and all I can think is more.
Hands tangle in each other’s hair. We move with urgency. This is the stuff my dreams are made of. Having a crush on my patron has been stifling, especially when he’s such a quiet grump. Knowing he feels the same way is an electric shock that sends me soaring high above the Earth.
“Betty,” he moans my name as he trails kisses down my cheek and jaw to my neck. Pulling my sweater aside just enough to kiss my collarbone, my breath hitches.
“Betty,” he says again. This time there’s an urgency in his voice that I recognize. I feel it, too.
That’s when the room begins to shake.
And I wake up. Again.
My body is goosepimply from the frigid arctic air whipping through the missing window in the library.
There’s a heat in my thighs that I can’t deny.
I can’t move.
There’s a muffled yelling coming from somewhere outside.
Books are everywhere, splayed open, covered in...snow? It’s a devastating sight. I’m certain the tears pricking the corners of my eyes are due to the bookish devastation all around me, and not at mortification at having a sex dream at work.
It’s dark, but there’s enough snow filtered light to see what’s pinning me to the ground.
Or rather, who .
It’s a muscled orc blanket named Grev. And he’s staring at me.