Page 22 of The Wolf in My Tavern

Ada

He is here again, the giant with the piercing blue eyes, his broad shoulders filling the tavern doorway as it swings open, bringing a blast of frigid air. His dark hair is tousled from the wind. There’s a hint of scruff along his jaw. Not enough to make a beard, but plenty enough to be hot.

I shouldn’t even notice him. I like Callum.

I more than like Callum.

“Ada! See to our customer!” Tim calls.

This is my job, and it certainly should not be a problem. Only, it’s him that I need to serve, and the butterflies are already taking flight in my belly. I have grown accustomed to tavern life, and very little fazes me anymore. But there is something about this customer that turns me into a tongue-tied dolt.

Where is Betsy when I need her? Tim’s daughter is incorrigible and shameless when it comes to flirting with the patrons. She always has a smile and is intimidated by no man, not even Master Gray. Of course, Tim would put a pounding on any man who stepped out of line, as he did that time when she was taken… That was many months ago, and it’s fair to say no one will make that mistake again. Despite her harrowing experience, Betsy is a free spirit, and Tim doesn’t mind what the patrons get up to with her so long as it’s Betsy’s choice.

We all come through trauma in different ways. I was a wreck when I first arrived, could barely get a word out, and was in a constant state of shock at the handsy patrons. Betsy took me under her wing and explained how it was always on my terms. How Tim would strangle any man who did more than I chose.

Then Callum showed me how life can be when you let go of your fears, and we have snuck time together often since with Betsy running cover.

I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m already smitten with Callum and the things he does with his hands and mouth.

But it is also like Callum has awakened me to pleasure and, somehow, that has all gotten tangled up, because the same flutters happen when I see this particular customer.

I dip my head in acquiescence and scoot around the bar. The Green Man is a respectable establishment, one of only a few that can be found in Bleakness, and it always draws a crowd. Tonight is particularly busy as several ships have been stuck in port by high winds, and the place is full of raucous sailors intent on downing ale and wenching.

My palms are already a little sweaty, and I’m not even anywhere near Master Gray yet. Most of the time when I serve him, he’s already sitting down, and I only see him standing from a distance—except that one time when I was cleaning up a table as he was coming in the door, which is when I realized just how freakishly big he is.

“Ada! Lass, the customer is waiting.”

Have I been staring at him all this time?

I think I have.

Goddess, I’m a mess of conflict. Fumbling to straighten imaginary creases in my apron, I hurry over to take his order. The closer I get to the corner table he has chosen, the higher my irrational anxiety crawls. It’s a tavern—he is a customer, and I need to do my job.

“What can I get for you?” I ask. My voice sounds small and breathless. Master Gray seems more intense tonight. His delicious scent is potent and finds a direct line to my needy places. His blue eyes gain an otherworldly quality under the glow of the blazing fire and lanterns. It’s a struggle to maintain eye contact. I think I’m worse than usual today. I wish I were pretty like Betsy with her blonde hair, becoming smile, and the smattering of freckles across her nose. Callum has told me I am beautiful many times, yet I still feel small and unremarkable next to Betsy with my pin-straight dark hair that doesn’t have a bit of bounce or curl.

As I lower my eyes, I trail them over the breadth of his shoulders before settling on his large, capable hands resting against the chipped wooden table.

I wonder what he does? He dresses like a soldier—he certainly has the build with serviceable leather armor and a heavy woolen cloak. Only I don’t see signs of any weapons.

Maybe he kills them with his bare hands.

I’m staring again.

He also hasn’t answered me. Maybe it was rude of me not to use his name. Heat fills my cheeks, and I fumble to straighten my apron again. “What can I get for you, Master Gray, sir?” I grimace at my rambling. Ugh! I sound like a fool. I’m hoping he wants something simple so I don’t have to make multiple trips, because I’m sure my legs won’t make it without me falling over my own feet.

“What do you recommend?” His voice is a rumbly purr, low enough that I can only just hear him over the revelry.

A huge chalkboard hangs over the bar, stating what is on the menu. I know he can read because he has ordered from it before without asking me. Is he teasing me?

“Um… the lamb stew is very popular, and there are dumplings in it tonight. It comes with fresh sourdough baked this morning.”

“Lamb,” he muses. “That feels appropriate, don’t you think? The bread, not so much.”

My eyes snap up in time to catch the lazy smirk blooming on his lips.

Then his smile drops. “You seem particularly distracted today, Ada. Have any customers been troubling you?” His voice dips to a growl that sends a tingle straight to my core.

I blink and gulp, trying to work out why lamb is appropriate while also not getting all swoony about the way he says my name. “No, sir.” I try for a smile, but his eyes are so intense and blue, and now that I’m gazing into them, I feel the magnetic pull toward him. The Goddess did not skimp on any aspect of him… that I can tell.

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