Page 15 of Falling for the Grumpy Orc
I narrow my eyes. "You're up early."
"Of course! Big day. Lots to do." She bounces on her toes, making the coffee slosh dangerously. "Do you take cream and sugar or are you more of a 'black as my soul' kind of guy? It doesn't matter. I have both for you. I also got you blueberry muffins from The Wandering Gnome. Mathilda told me they're your favorites."
My jaw tightens. Of course, she's already been chatting with Mathilda. Probably the whole damn town knows I'm working here by now.
"Black's fine," I grunt, following her inside, trying not to look at her round ass swinging from side to side as she walks in front of me.
Trying and failing.
The foyer stretches out before us, high ceilings disappearing into shadow. Cassidy sets the coffee and muffins on a rickety side table, then spins to face me with her hands clasped together.
The coffee is bitter on my tongue as I take another sip, watching Cassidy flutter around the foyer like a hummingbird on crack. The blueberry muffin sits half-eaten in my other hand, forgotten as she points out yet another architectural detail I'm impressed she noticed. For a city girl, she sure knows her way around what's valuable in an old building like that.
"The crown molding is gorgeous, right? Just look at that detail work." She stretches up on her tiptoes, gesturing at the ornate trim with both hands. Her ponytail bounces with the movement. Her breasts, too. "And these windows. Once we replace the old glass, the view will be stunning."
I grunt noncommittally and take another bite of muffin, using it as an excuse not to respond. My eyes track the water stains spreading across the ceiling like a disease. The floorboards beneath my boots protest with each step, sagging under my weight in a way that speaks of headaches and rotted supports. As if on cue, a sharp skittering sound echoes through the walls, followed by rapid scratching. My eyes narrow as I track the noise from one beam to another. Probably squirrels or mice that have made themselves at home in the old building's bones.Just one more thing to add to the growing list of problems that need fixing.
And Cassidy keeps chatting, totally oblivious of her furry little tenants wreaking havoc inside her walls.
"Oh, and this fireplace." She practically skips across the room, running her fingers along the ancient wood. "I was thinking we could restore it, maybe add some built-in bookshelves on the other side of the room. Create a cozy reading nook."
Finally, Cassidy stops talking and turns to me, her excitement radiating from every pore of her skin like beams of psychotic sunshine. “So, where do we start?”
I swallow the last of my coffee, which has gone cold in the span of the longest monologue about renovation I’d ever heard.
“You got a budget for all this?” Dollar signs add up in my brain as I compile all the work that needs done. It’s a lot, but I know I can do most of it without making her bank account sweat. “I would start there.”
"Of course I have a budget." Her smile wavers just for a heartbeat before returning full force. "It's not impressive, but I'm good at finding deals! And I'll help with the grunt work. I can paint and tear down wallpaper. Put in some elbow grease, you know?"
She keeps talking, her words tumbling out faster than whatever runs through those old walls, but I've stopped listening. Every enthusiastic gesture, every bright-eyed plan she shares just highlights how little she understands the scope of what needs to be done. The fact that she thinks I'll let her climb on a ladder and work alongside me in this wreck of a building makes my jaw clench.
“Teaching newbies wastes time.” I let out a low growl. "Having you work with me isn't part of the deal, Princess."
"I'm a fast learner." She lifts her chin, meeting my gaze straight on. "And I'm stronger than I look."
Something about her determination makes my chest tight. I turn away, focusing on the crumbling plaster near the staircase.
"So I've seen your grand foyer, the guest rooms, and the halls. Now show me where you're living," I say. "I want to check the whole building's layout."
She leads me through a derelict kitchen to a small apartment at the back of the lodge. The sight hits me like a physical blow. Cracked linoleum peels up at the edges of the floor, revealing rotting subflooring beneath. A broken window is barely held together with clouded plastic film that ripples in the draft. Past the kitchen is Cassidy’s small apartment.
There’s a living room that shines by its absence of furniture and to the back is a bedroom. If we can call it that. I have to refrain from growling as I walk inside. An inflatable mattress sags against the wall like a deflated balloon, topped with a mess of blankets that look about as warm as tissue paper. The air smells musty and damp, with hints of mold that make my nose twitch.
My hands clench into fists. No one should be living like this, especially not someone who works as hard as she does. The thought of Cassidy huddled under those thin blankets while winter storms rage outside makes something hot and angry coil in my chest.
"This is where you're living?" My voice comes out rougher than intended, scraping past the tightness in my throat.
"It's fine for now!" Cassidy waves off my look of horror, her smile bright but brittle around the edges. Her shoulders are tense, like she's waiting for criticism and ready to fight it. "Once the Saltwater Lodge is up and running, I'll fix this place up, too."
"You can't be serious."
But my eyes catch on two suitcases lined against the wall, next to the mattress. Fancy clothes lay in there, scrupulously folded in neat little piles. She's living out of those two meager piles of clothes and with a kitchen she can't cook a meal in.
Totally unacceptable.
"Yup! It's no palace, but it's home. For now." She smiles even wider, that forced cheerfulness making my jaw clench. A shiver runs through her as another draft whistles through the plastic-covered window.
"You're not fixing anything else till this apartment's livable." The words come out like a growl. The thought of her living like this makes me want to punch something. Preferably whatever idiot made her life so unbearable that she has to live like this.
