Page 48 of Falling for the Grumpy Orc
“What about Mrs. Cromby? The old witch is always your partner in the herbal remedy stand,” I point out, crossing my arms over my chest, then glancing at Cassidy.
“She’s a literal witch, it’s not an insult.” I add. “She and Bernice make the best herbal remedies in the whole county.”
Bernice scoffs and purses her lips in an obviously displeased pout.
"Mrs. Cromby usually helps me, but she had to rush out of town yesterday. Her sister broke her ankle during the New Moon ritual." Bernice clicks her tongue and shakes her head. "Apparently, they were dancing around a bonfire, and poor Edith tripped over the cauldron. So now Mrs. Cromby's gone to help her recover."
I raise an eyebrow. "And you couldn't find anyone in town?"
"I looked," Bernice answers with a smug smile, "and I found two perfectly capable, beautiful young people standing right in front of me."
"Oh, I'd love to help!" Cassidy brightens. "The festival sounds like so much fun. And I would love to meet everyone. I’ve barely had time to step into town since moving in."
"Excellent!" Bernice claps her hands together before I can mount any kind of protest. "I knew I could count on Cassidy to be agreeable. Now, as for you, my dear boy…" She tilts her head, giving me that same look she's given me all my life when she knows she's about to win.
I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. "You're not going to let me say no, are you?"
Bernice beams. "Now, how could an old lady like myself make a big, strong orc like you do anything you don't want to do?"
I cast Cassidy a sidelong glance, and she smirks at me. I’m smart enough to know when I’m outnumbered and overpowered.
"I don't know, Gerralt," she teases. "It seems like you're up against a formidable opponent. Might as well accept defeat."
Bernice chuckles as she reaches again to pat Cassidy on the cheek. "Smart girl. You should listen to her, Gerralt."
I grumble under my breath, but there's no real heat to it. I was never going to win this one, and we all know it.
As Bernice and Cassidy settle in quiet conversation about the upcoming arrival of Marigold’s kitten, I can’t help but wonder.
When did I become so… domesticated?
And why does it feel so good?
Chapter Twenty
Cassidy
HowcouldIhaveever found him attractive?
Jason lifts his face at my approach and he gives me that crooked smile that makes women’s knees go weak. His ash-blond hair is as perfectly made as ever, just long enough to fall on his forehead but not long enough to look disheveled.
A boy. That’s what he looks like to me now. He looks like a boy playing grown-up. Compared to Gerralt, he’s exactly that. And I’mdone playing.
I slide into the seat across from him, searching for the flutter of anxiety in my chest that thinking about him usually brings since that fateful day.
Nothing. Nada. It’s like looking at a complete stranger.
The Wandering Gnome buzzes with morning activity around us, the clink of silverware, the gentle hum of conversation, the rich aroma of cinnamon and fresh coffee, but all I can focus on is the man sitting across from me, looking exactly as he did the day I left him.
The only thing that’s changed is me.
"Cassidy! Your usual today?" Mathilda calls from behind the counter, her gnomish frame barely visible except for the elaborate bun piled high on her head.
"Just coffee for now. Thanks, Mathilda!" I reply, forcing a smile. Several patrons nod my way. Mrs. Henderson from the tackle shop gives me a little wave, and Mr. Pierce, the elderly goblin from the parks department, briefly glances up from his crossword puzzle and gives me a faint nod that, coming from him, counts as a standing ovation.
"How's the lodge coming along?" asks one of the O'Malley twins from the next table, syrup dripping from his fork.
"Getting there," I answer. "Should have the floor finished by next week."
