Page 19 of A Bridge to a Troll's Heart
Those kisses they’d shared ran on a loop through his mind. Toby above him, his light weight on Arlo’s chest, lips exploring lips. His heart warmed at the thought despite the layer of ice covering every pine needle and brown blade of grass. The sun hid behind the clouds, leaving a dreary, gray day and nothing much to keep his mind off his longing.
Arlo had spent much of his time since he last saw Toby regretting his words. Something he’d said had chased the wolf shifter off.
He’d been too eager to name his desire to claim Toby’s family as his own. He’d thought if Toby were his lover, perhaps he could help care for the pack’s youngsters. Maybe Toby’s siblings would welcome Arlo as a brother. With Toby at his side, Arlo would get a taste of what it was like to be a part of the big family he’d always wanted, but Toby had shut down after he’d mentioned it.
Arlo wished he’d have kept his big mouth shut. He’d ruined everything. He didn’t want Toby to think he only liked him for his family because that wasn’t true at all, but he was afraid that was exactly what he’d done. Toby hadn’t visited since, so there had been no chance to explain himself.
With a great sigh, Arlo stared into the river and wished he could make the journey to Toby’s village to apologize. But he couldn’t bring himself to risk it. Toby might reject him a second time, and the possibility was too much to bear.
So he wallowed. And kept his bridge guarded, his den neat and tidy, and his heart safe behind a wall of doubt.
He dozed off, leaning against the rails of his bridge. A feminine voice from below stirred him awake. “Hey there, Arlo! Wake up, you silly troll. I’ve brought you a starfish.”
The water nymph, Liosa, clung to a river boulder, water flowing by her in rushing ripples. She peered up at him with purple eyes sparkling like amethysts. Her green hair hung in wet clumps around her shoulders. The opalescent scales covering her body glimmered in every color of the rainbow despite the cloudy sky.
Normally, Arlo would be delighted by her visit, but his foul mood lingered. That wasn’t her fault, though, and he tried to be nice. “Hello, Liosa. Shall I fetch you another leaf in trade?”
Liosa held the starfish high, and the negotiations began. “This is a fine specimen I’ve found for you, a big one, with all five limbs intact.”
Indeed, the starfish was a rare prize, and Arlo wanted it for his collection. It was dead, of course. He had no means nor the desire to cage a live one. “How would I know five is a good amount? For all I know, starfish usually have ten legs.”
She thrust her chin forward. “That’s ridiculous. They do not. I assure you five is the standard, and this one is a beauty.”
Arlo gave in. “What would you like? I’ll do my best to find it.”
“Leaves will do fine. The sea nymphs go crazy for them, but please do find me lots, not just one, a big bundle.”
Arlo supposed it would be harder to come by leaves in the ocean than by the river. “I’ll be right back.”
He lumbered off across the meadow and to the tree line where leaves were available in abundance. Most were brown by now, but he picked through the forest floor for the last oranges, reds, and golds of the season and put them together in a neat stack.
Memories of kissing Toby in the leaf pile rose bittersweet in his mind. Scowling, Arlo shoved them aside and finished collecting the best leaves.
Frowning, he returned to Liosa by way of the riverbank. “Give me a moment, and I’ll tie them together for you.”
“Good idea.” Her suspicious gaze followed his every move.
Arlo fetched a length of twine from his den and plopped down by the river’s edge to fashion a net to hold the leaves in place. Liosa swam closer, starfish in hand. He startled as she launched herself onto the shore next to him.
Arlo clutched a hand to his chest. “You scared me. I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Do what? Come ashore? Of course I can,” Liosa trilled with a huff. She settled with her tentacles coiled like a snake around her dainty golden tail. A water nymph on land was a sight to behold, so colorful and shiny, fins still dripping with moisture. Arlo tried not to stare.
“If you can come ashore, why not fetch your own leaves?”
Her hand flew to her chest in mock outrage. Or real outrage—Arlo couldn’t tell. “Do I look like I’d stoop to collecting my own leaves? No, I do not. That’s what trolls are for.”
Arlo wasn’t about to argue with Liosa. “Indeed.”
She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “You smell miserable. What’s wrong?”
His eyebrows rose. “You can smell how I’m feeling?”
“Stop acting so surprised.” Her scales fluttered, a ridge formed at her collarbones, then settled flat. “I can do anything I want. Answer me. What’s wrong?”
“I’m sad,” Arlo admitted. He hunkered over his project, tied off a piece of twine, and threaded it through with another. “I’d made a friend of a wolf shifter who lives nearby, but he’s stopped coming to visit.”
“Why?” Her green brows drew together.
