Page 18 of One Stolen Night with Her Orc

But Poppy has flipped all of that on its head. My job now is to take care of her. Love her and accept love from her. It’s the best job I’ve ever had.

When Grev comes in, he startles me out of thought. He looks broody. “Your smile is annoying,” he says by way of greeting.

“Good to see you, too. What’s up? You’re early.”

“Do I need to have an appointment to see my brother?” His words are sharp, clearly aggrieved by something, or someone.

“Bjorn?” I ask, not bothering to stop cleaning down the bar and tables for today’s foot traffic.

“He’s so fucking proud of himself. And loud. And stupid. I’ve been prepping the garden for ages. I mean, it’s all frozen, but I’m marking things out. Sketchbooks on what I’m farming this year. And the asshat had to come over and use my sketches as napkins. Then tromp all over the garden spaces with his stupid giant boots. Just undid all the work I did in the fall.”

“Here,” I pass him a bowl of chowder and newly kegged IPA. “This is the newest. Has coriander and peppercorn in it.”

“What is it with you and fucking peppers?”

I shrug, amused at his extra grumpy mood. “I just like spice. This was Poppy’s idea. She’s got a good tongue for flavors.”

“Oh gods. Do NOT talk to me about her tongue.”

At that, I throw my bar towel at him. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

Grev settles after that, dunking big chunks of dark rye bread into his chowder and drinking his beer. Grev’s the quiet one, which means sometimes he gets forgotten about. I make a mental note to ask Poppy if we can have him over for a meal once a week. I mean, we eat here at the brewery most nights. But I can see, just as with Poppy’s sister Addy, that sometimes we need to make more of an effort. I’ll talk to Bjorn, too...the asshat.

The first real customers of the day wander in about the time Grev is making motions to leave. “Thanks, Koru, for letting me vent. And for feeding me. That was delicious. I’m off to rewrite all my notes for the season.”

“No problem, anytime. Oh, Tuesdays are slow. Why don’t we plan for dinner together here? I’ll ask Poppy to make a dessert.” She was just telling me about a spiced cake with cream cheese frosting her mom used to make. Maybe she’ll want to make that?

Grev grunts a nod and walks out, but I saw the surprise on the face, and the something like joy peeking out from behind his hairy orc face.

Chapter 13

Poppy

Bjorn, August, Grev, Urk, Anne, Koru, and I sit around the biggest table closest to the fire. There’s no one else here. Probably helped that Koru proclaimed loudly that he was closing early tonight to everyone, for the entire weekend prior.

August roasted some winter squash, delicious. Grev brought a playlist of oddly sad folk songs. Urk brought Anne, and Anne brought cornbread muffins with a delightful, crispy edge. Bjorn and Koru roasted a leg of cow together out back. And I made my mom’s famous spiced cake with brown butter cream cheese frosting. I’m weirdly nervous about everyone eating it.

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