Page 2 of One Night with Her Grumpy Orc

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 howun-library-likeit 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 ismore.

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.

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