Page 18 of The Grinch Who Stole Orcmas

“Fine,” I grumble. “But I’m not dancing.”

Joy claps her hands, beaming. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun! We’ll all be dressed up, we can have fun while we’re sleuthing, and Grum, you’ll look so handsome in your—”

Her pretty eyes flare wide as she immediately realizes that she said that out loud. In front of all my gossipy friends.

Trying to distract everyone from her gaff, she chatters on about bow ties and cummerbunds and how she has an old bridesmaid dress she can re-tool for the event. I sink lower in my seat as I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into.

But then I catch sight of Joy’s reflection in the window, her eyes sparkling with excitement, and I feel that strange warmth in my chest again, as well as the beginnings of a purr. Maybe this won’t be a total disaster. And… she thinks I’m handsome? To cover up my interest, I make a disgusted “hmph” sound.

“Hey, Grum.” From his tone of voice, I know Kam’s gearing up for another craptastic joke. “You think they make tuxes in Grinch green?”

The car erupts in laughter, and even I can’t help but crack a smile. As we drive off into the night, plotting our next move, I realize something that shocks me to my core: I’m actually looking forward to this ridiculous gala.

I won’t tell that to anyone. I’ve got a reputation to maintain, after all.

Chapter 11: A Frosty Reception

Joy

They told me Sarah’s parents are rich as God. She gets their hand-me-down charity invites all the time. But for me, the Frost King’s Gala is an exciting spectacle of glittering ice sculptures and twinkling lights.

Lucky for us, all these fancy people are here for a gala whose proceeds are slated to go to Others, so when I walk in with a bunch of huge orc firefighters and their mates, we’re met with tolerance, if not downright enthusiasm.

Crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow over the ballroom, filled with the gentle tinkling of champagne flutes and the murmur of conversation. The scent of pine mingles with expensive perfumes, which gives an exotic atmosphere.

Grum shifts uncomfortably beside me, tugging at his rented tux. “This thing’s tighter than a tourniquet,” he grumbles, his low rumble sending shivers through me.

“Stop fidgeting,” I whisper, smoothing my gown. It was heinous as a bridesmaid dress, but after I removed the giant bow at the small of my back, it isn’t so bad. The deep emerald number hugs my curves before falling softly to my ankles.

“You look… good,” I tell him, but the word feels inadequate. In truth, Grum looks mouthwatering in his tux. The crisp white shirt is a stark contrast to his pine-green skin. Even his ever-present man bun is neater than usual… and dashing as always.

He grunts, running a thick finger between his collar and his neck as his amber eyes scan me up and down. I’m not exactly sure what the flicker in his eyes or his obvious gulp mean until he says, “You look amazing, Joy.”

My body responds with a wild, live-wire feeling that whirls through me, gathering energy until it pools between my thighs. Oh, my. It’s going to be a long night with me yearning after this hunky male, especially with the dreamy background music and him so close it’s like wearing a second skin.

Grum seems to return to his senses as the soft look in his amber eyes hardens and he growls, “Let’s see if we can find Sykes, collect some info, and leave. This bowtie’s choking me.”

“Alright, team,” Emma says, pulling us into a huddle, though we’re trying to look casual. “I’ve installed a special app on allour phones. It works like a walkie-talkie, so we can communicate discreetly.”

“Ooh, are we secret agents now?” Kam grins, his tusks glinting in the soft light. “Should I introduce myself as Bond, Kam Bond?”

Sarah rolls her eyes. “Focus, bro. We’re here on a mission, remember?”

“Right, right,” Kam nods, trying to look serious but failing miserably. “So, what’s the plan?”

Thornn speaks up, his deep, authoritative voice rumbling. “We should split up, cover more ground. Sarah and I will take the east side of the ballroom.”

“Emma and I can handle the west,” Kam volunteers, puffing out his chest.

“That leaves the center for you two lovebirds,” Emma winks at Grum and me.

Grum growls, but he looks surprisingly tolerant of the comment that was obviously meant to press his buttons.

“Remember,” I add, “we’re looking for any information on Sykes or his operation. Keep your ears open and your drinks full—it’ll help you blend in.”

“And don’t forget to use the app if you spot Sykes or hear anything suspicious. You’ve all studied his photo on theInternet,” Emma reminds us. “Now, let’s go catch us a corrupt official!”

As we disperse, my excitement builds. I’ve watched a thousand police procedurals in my time. Now, I finally get to investigate something.

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