Page 3 of One Night with Her Mountain Orc

Chapter 2

Bjorn

First day on the job, and I got to scale an icy mountain to rescue my dream girl—feisty, curvy as hell, and brave. It was the perfect first day. Now though, I have to do the boring part of the job. And let her go.I am a professional.Why did I have to decide to turn over a new leaf now?

“Bjorn, make sure she fills out the paperwork, especially the refusal to go to the hospital. Once she leaves here, she’s out of our care.” Brann, my captain, slaps me on the back like he’s my father or mentor before stomping to his office. There’s a weird twinge inside me—Brann trusts me to do my job correctly, and on the first day—when no one has trusted me to do anything right in a long time.

After I’ve fully inspected August’s ankle and shapely calf and bandaged it, I watch as she fills out the SAR paperwork. A light sweat glistens on her brow as she writes. Infection? Nerves? Possibly both. Maybe our monster presence makes her uncomfortable? My co-workers ignore us, but that doesn’t mean she ignored them—minotaur and kraken. I didn’t notice a scent of fear on the walk or car ride here. Needing to keep busy, I make her a cup of cocoa and bring it to her.

“Thank you. This is really sweet of you,” she says, her smile a delight to my senses. She seems to have improved her mood sitting in a heated room, snacking on beef jerky, and now drinking hot cocoa. Did she really just call me sweet? No one, not even my own mother, has ever called me sweet.

“So, August. How’d you end up with a name like that?” Deep, growly voice, I’m trying to reclaim my typical bad boy persona.

“One guess,” she says, her sly smile exposes her right dimple. How is she not put off by me? How is she so beautiful and adorable?

“Your mom loved late summer peaches.” I wink.

“I’m sure she does, but no. And how is that your one guess?” She laughs at my stupidity. I shrug.

“Beats the obvious birth month, right?” I don’t say thatI smell peaches when I’m close to you. Summer sunshine and dripping ripe fruit.

“I’ll give you that. And it isn’t my birth month. October is.” She goes back to filling out forms and drinking her drink. She has a tiny chocolate moustache on her top lip.

“Funny. Then, I don’t know. Tell me?” I bat my eyes at her, then remember myself and cross my arms, leaning against the table where she’s sitting. She laughs again, and this time it isn’t at my stupidity. It’s a laugh of bliss and enjoyment. Two things I want to give her more of. Or, possibly, she’s hallucinating from cold exposure? Tough call.

“My grandpa’s name. He died the day I was born.”

Crickets. I don’t know how to lighten that topic, so I nod and scratch the back of my head, searching for a way to change the subject. Respect blooms inside me at the way she just dropped that bomb in my lap. Kudos, August.

Something clanks inside of the captain’s office. It jolts me back to reality. I’m supposed to be working, not warring within myself about flirting with her.

“Do you have someone to call who can pick you up?” She shifts uncomfortably and wrinkles her nose as she thinks. She does not make eye contact with me. Hmm, curious. Stepping away from her, I busy myself hanging gear and organizing supplies.

Like all the good things in my life, I’ve killed any chance we had now.

“Okay, I think everything is filled out. Thanks again.” August stands, wobbly on her injured ankle and fatigued legs. Then she hobbles toward the big red door that separates us from the icy wind outside.

“We were lucky getting off the mountain when we did. It sounds miserable outside,” I say conversationally as I flip through her paperwork on the clipboard. She’s signed the release. No phone number. No address.

“I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll see you around.” With a weak smile, she flips her dark brown hair over her shoulder and limps outside. Huh.

“You going to let her go?” Brann’s deep voice sounds incredulous. He’s peeking out from his office.

Groaning, I ask, “How much did you hear?” I’m not sure I really want the answer to my question.

“I’ll tell you this. It’s obvious you like her. And she didn’t give me the light of day. I think you should go after her. Besides, this weather is only turning worse.”

“You don’t think it’s unprofessional? This was a training day. She was my mission.” Brann’s lips curl into what I think is a smile. I hope that’s not the smile he gives to women—it’s terrifying.

“I wouldn’t be telling you to go after her if I thought it was unprofessional. She signed the release. She’s out of our care. Now, go, you idiot.” With that, he turns back into his office and shuts the door. Behind the door, a phone rings.

Whelp, I guess I should follow orders. Somehow, my heart is pounding with the strength of my grandpa, who supported his family by bare-handedly hunting bears that harassed folks in town.

“Fine,” I mumble to myself. Not bothering with a coat, because I am, in fact, an idiot orc, I walk outside to find millions of tiny balls of ice whipping around the air as the wind howls. A reminder for us that spring is really just a figment of our imagination. It hurts.

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