Page 30 of Falling for the Grumpy Orc
For a long, tense beat, no one speaks.
Then Patricia exhales, slow and deliberate, her gaze flicking between me and Gerralt. Her lips curve into something that might pass for a smile if it weren’t so sharp.
“So this is what you’ve chosen,” she murmurs, her tone syrupy sweet but laced with poison. “Running yourself ragged for a run-down lodge in the middle of nowhere. With an orc.”
My stomach churns with bile. I knew she’d disapprove. I expected the judgment. But something about the way she purses her lips at that last word makes me want to throw something at the wall.
Gerralt shifts beside me, and I swear the temperature in the room drops by ten degrees.
I open my mouth, but he beats me to it.
“Cassidy worked every day, from sunup to sundown,” he says, voice flat, final. There’s no bark, no theatrics, just the weight of absolute certainty, like a brick through a window. “She already transformed this place more than I could ever imagine and she’s going to make it the best bed and breakfast this town has ever seen. And I won’t allow anyone, not even her mother, to stand here and talk down to her like that.”
Patricia’s nostrils flare. She turns from Gerralt to face me.
“I’mwarningyou, Cassidy. You have no idea what kind of life you’re setting yourself up for.” Her hazel eyes, so much like mine, slice through me. “If you think I’ll just stand by while you throw your future away in a pathetic little town with some barbaric orc contractor, you’re wrong.”
Heat flashes through me like a slap.
“You’ve been warned.” I’m surprised at the firmness in my voice. “Now you need to leave.”
Patricia stills and stares at me like I’ve turned green and grew tusks.
“You heard her,” he says, folding his arms over his broad chest. Gerralt doesn’t even blink. His voice stays low, calm, even as somethingdark and dangerous simmers just beneath the surface. “This is not your house and it’s not your life, either. Cassidy’s got more guts than most people I know. You don’t see that, you don’t respect that? Then turn around and walk your fancy shoes right out that door.”
Patricia’s mouth tightens. For the first time in my life, she looks… uncertain.
But only for a moment.
"I can see I’m not wanted here," she says stiffly.
She pulls her gloves back on with sharp, clipped movements, like she’s reasserting control of what little she has left.
"I will be there for you when this place crumbles from under you,” she adds, voice quiet but cutting. “But I might not be able to save you from yourself forever."
Then she leaves, her heels clicking against the wooden planks as she disappears down the hallway. When the door opens and closes, I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
The kitchen is silent. The only sound is the slow tick of the clock on the wall.
I turn toward Gerralt and the weight of everything crashes down on me like all at once. My mother’s words. The fear she put in me, stirring up old wounds I thought I had buried.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m just playing a game I’m doomed to lose.
Maybe I’ll never be good enough.
My breath hitches, a sharp, ugly sound, and suddenly, Gerralt is there, solid and unmoving in front of me.
"I—" My voice cracks, and I hate it. "I just… I don’t know if I can do this. What if I fail? And she’ll be right, and Jason will be right, and—"
Gerralt moves before I can finish. His arms wrap around me, pulling me against his chest.
For a moment, I freeze. After he gave me the cold shoulder for two days, I shouldn't just throw myself at him. In fact, I shouldn’t need or want the comfort of a man.
And yet despite all that, I cling to him like he’s a lifeline. Like his hard, muscular chest can shield me from the pain that’s blooming inside my chest like a malevolent flower.
The new Cassidy doesn’t need a man. The new Cassidy doesn’t need her mother’s approval or permission. The new Cassidy—
The dam breaks.
