Page 19 of Falling for the Grumpy Orc
He heads back out, boots thudding against the floor like punctuation marks. I stand there, mouth open, until he reappears with a matching dresser in his arms, the thing looking like a dollhouse piece next to him.
“You’re impossible,” I mutter, stepping aside as he shoulders past.
“Good. Means I get things done.” He slides the dresser against the wall, then fixes me with a look. “Where’s this going?”
I blink, like my brain refuses to catch up to what's happening to me. “I… what?”
“The bed and the dresser. Where do you want them?”
His voice is pure command, and for some insane reason, it sends a shiver down my spine. And that shiver ends right between my legs.
“Uh, I guess over there for the bed?” I point toward the far wall, where my air mattress sits deflated and pitiful. “And the dresser on the opposite wall.”
Without a word, Gerralt picks up the frame and moves it like it’s weightless. I watch in stunned silence as he sets everything up—frame, dresser, even a matching nightstand. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, he walks back out to his truck and returns with a brand-new mattress, still wrapped in plastic.
I stare at it, my chest tightening. “That… that’s not from your gran.”
“Nope.” He peels off the plastic, his hands rough but methodical as he maneuvers the mattress onto the frame. “But you can’t work if you’re dead on your feet.”
I stand frozen, my heart doing some strange, fluttery thing I don’t recognize.
"At least let me reimburse you for the mattress," I persist, reaching for my purse. "I know those aren't cheap."
"Put your checkbook away, Princess."
But I don’t listen. I take out my checkbook and a pen from the depth of my purse and write out his name on top. My head spins as I think of the diminutive amount of money left in there, but I have no choice. And Gerralt is right. I do need to sleep.
He lets out a low growl that makes my spine tingle. "I said no."
I look up at him and he’s right there in my space, crowding me. His face is still set in stern lines and he frowns so deeply that he should scare the living heck out of me, but there’s something in his gaze that makes me put the pen down. It’s not pity, and it’s not judgment, either. He just saw my need and he’s fulfilling it without expecting anything in return.
My throat closes up and emotions well right there, under the surface where I keep them at bay.
I really, really don't want to start this new life owing anything to a man, but I also really needed this. Needed a little nest so as not to feel like I’m teetering on the dangerous edge of despair. And since Jason is dragging his feet on the signature of the house sale, I don't have the money right now to buy anything that isn’t focused on the renovations of the lodge.
“Thank you.” My voice is high-pitched and squeaky, heavy with the tears I'm trying really hard not to spill.
“Don't mention it. It's nothing, really.”
On an impulse I don’t even try to understand, I lunge myself at him and hug him tight. My arms barely make it halfway around his broad chest, and his flannel shirt is warm and smells faintly of pine and leather and male things that make my belly quiver. For a moment, he freezes, his massive frame going completely still against me.
Then, slowly, his arms wrap around me. One large hand spans across my lower back, pressing me closer until I'm flush against him. The other slides up between my shoulder blades, his touch gentle despite his strength. Heat radiates from his body, seeping through my thin shirt and making my skin tingle wherever we touch.
God, the man is built like a tank. I should pull back. I really should. But his chest is solid and warm against my face, and when I feel his heart thundering beneath my cheek, something melts inside me and pools low in my belly. My breath catches as his hot breath fans my nape, the warm air sending sparks of electricity down my spine.
I tilt my head up, meaning to apologize, but the words die in my throat. His amber eyes are dark and intense, fixed on my face with an expression that makes my pulse race. Something heats up in those amber eyes and my body responds with a surge of arousal, my nipples peaking through the cotton t-shirt. I see him swallow as his gaze lowers to my chest and there’s a hum inside every inch of my skin at the idea that he’s going to reach up for me. His tusks catch the morning light and I get the dizzying desire to run my tongue along them.
For one endless moment, we stay frozen like that, barely breathing. Then he clears his throat and steps back, looking away like he's been burned by a hot iron and not just hugging a woman.
"Sorry," I whisper, my face burning. "I'm not used to people giving me things like that."
His perpetual frown softens, just for a moment.
"Finish your coffee," he grumbles, his voice rougher than usual. "We've got work to do."
Chapter Nine
Cassidy
