Chapter 3 #3
“And that’s too kind a word. It’s disgusting.
I usually stay home during my vacation weeks because traveling isn’t something I can afford on my budget, but I took the credit card out of the freezer for this trip.
I had to get away for a while.” I can’t bring myself to tell him the exact reason—what happened to the Wolferd family when they came out as wolf shifters.
Even though I was vehemently against it and made my feelings known everywhere possible, I’m still ashamed to be associated with a town that’d treat others that way.
“So I got a copy of Monster Life magazine—I had to order it, of course, because no stores in town carry it—and chose Harmony Glen from the ‘Ten Monster-Inclusive Destinations You Won’t Want to Miss This Summer’ article. ”
“I’m glad you did,” he says, withdrawing his other hand from his pocket and placing it over mine.
“Me too.” Stopped to wait for cars to go by on Lakeview Avenue, I smile up at him. “What about you? Have you always been in Harmony Glen, or did you move here after the Great Revelation?”
The arm I’m holding slides from my grip to wrap protectively around my back as we cross the street.
Once we’re safely on the sidewalk again, his arm slips away, and he takes my hand, weaving our fingers together with care.
“I have always been here, though not openly. I grew up in a small home hidden from human eyes by the way it was built into one of the surrounding hills in a heavily wooded area. The couple who owned the nearby farm and market were aware of my family’s existence and always treated us as equals.
My parents worked on their land, and when I was old enough, I followed in their footsteps.
The owners were ready to retire and offered to sell the property to me the moment integration happened.
I will always believe they held on to it as long as possible to ensure I had a job and a safe place. ”
“I love that.” It’s the kind of feel-good story that belongs in Monster Life magazine, though I doubt he’d want that kind of attention, being solitary as he is.
“It was an extraordinary opportunity for which I was, and am, very grateful.”
“Where are they now?”
“The Jensens, the previous owners, are enjoying their golden years in a seniors’ condominium apartment overlooking the lake.”
“Wow, that’s quite a change from living on acres and acres of farmland.”
Ogram’s big body vibrates with deep chuckling.
“I voiced the same thing when they told me their intentions. I offered them to remain in the farmhouse, and I would transform part of the big barn into a bachelor’s apartment for myself.
They declined, saying they were ready for a different view, and that I would need the house for my family. ”
Another example of Ogram’s kindness. Generosity, too.
How humans could see him as anything other than a wonderful person is beyond me.
Where I’m from, he’d be vilified, based solely on his exterior.
Every minute here, every moment with him, makes me want to never go back. If only that were an option.
“So, your parents live in the farmhouse with you?” I ask, redirecting my thoughts to the present, to learning everything there is to know about my troll. Mine for now, anyway.
He shakes his head, a different kind of smile settling into place. Warm, reverent. “No, they had already passed on by that time. Several years before the Great Revelation. Their spirit lives in the land, though. I feel their presence every time my hands touch the earth.”
“That’s beautiful,” I say, squeezing his hand gently. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Lifting our joined hands, he presses a soft kiss to my knuckles, the contact bringing butterflies to wing inside me.
“I’ve already mentioned my brother, who no longer resides in this area, so you now know what there is to know about my family.
I would like to hear about yours.” His eyebrows rise at my grimace.
“Unless it’s a subject you would rather not discuss. ”
“No, it’s fine. Just…don’t hold my shitty parents against me, okay?
Because I’m not like them. At all.” The fluttering in my chest withers as quickly as it started.
“They’re anti-integration. Silently at first. Early on, I still believed—or wanted to believe—they’d come around.
I tried having calm, logical conversations with them.
I thought that eventually something I said would click, and they’d realize how narrow-minded and lacking in empathy they’d become. ”
“Based on your lead-in, I assume that didn’t happen.”
Shaking my head, I release a defeated sigh.
“No, it got worse. As soon as businesses in town started putting up ‘Humans Only’ signs, normalizing open segregation, my parents jumped on the bandwagon. No more silent hatred, they became part of the bigger, louder, radical problem. They went all-in on hate. Believed the bullshit and lies. That’s when I moved into my own place. And when I cut them out of my life.”
“That couldn’t have been an easy decision.”
“I know I should agree, but the sad truth is, they made it easy. Blood made us family. Their toxic beliefs and behavior made us strangers.”
Ogram stops, takes my other hand, and holds both while looking into my eyes. “I am sorry for your loss.”
I’ve been so angry at my parents all this time, cutting off contact with them was like a weight being lifted.
I never expected or intended to reconnect with them, but the permanence of that hadn’t sunk in until this moment, until Ogram’s words of condolence.
Inside me, on a level deeper than rational thought, deeper than anger and disappointment, something cracks.
A single gut-deep sob bubbles out of that fissure before I can suppress it.
In a blink, he pulls me against him, enveloping me in his big arms so completely, it’s like being held by a giant teddy bear and an impenetrable force at the same time. An embrace filled with compassion, support, security.
I slide my arms around his waist and press my cheek to his chest. I barely know him, but I know he won’t let go until I do. Not because he’s polite or feels obligated to comfort me. Because he’s good and kind and genuinely cares.
“I’ve never told anyone about that,” I say, resting my chin on his beefy body and looking up at him. “I’m sorry for unloading on you and being a downer on our date.”
“Sharing your life stories and feelings with me is a gift I’m honored to receive.”
“How is it that somebody as good and kind and sexy as you hasn’t been taken off the market yet?
” I giggle when his eyebrows shoot up high enough that the top portion disappears beneath his thick, longish auburn hair.
“Yes, I said sexy. That’s how I feel, and you said sharing my feelings with you is a gift, so consider yourself gifted with the knowledge that I find you incredibly and irresistibly sexy.
Oh, and there are no returns or exchanges on this gift. ”
A blush rises on his cheeks. Again, the muted red with soft edges against his green skin resembles apples, and I can’t resist reaching up to brush my fingers over them, accidentally grazing his tusks in the process.
“Sorry—” Before I can pull away, his big hand circles my wrist and guides my fingertips back to the gleaming surface.
“You are always welcome to touch me, Hope. Any part. Anytime.”
“If that’s your gift to me, there are no returns on it, either.”
“No returns,” he repeats, his quiet laughter vibrating through me deliciously.
I bite my bottom lip, my heart pounding as if it’s trying to break free of my chest, then I slide the pad of my index finger along the long, thick tusk.
Despite being permanently outside of his mouth, it’s as warm to the touch as an inside tooth would be, and just as smooth.
I’ve never been the run-my tongue-along-your-teeth-while-making-out type, but the urge to do it to Ogram’s tusks has my mouth watering.
He still has one arm around me, and it tightens, tugging my lower body tighter to his. The thick bulge of his cock along his thigh presses against me, his nostrils flaring when I scissor my thighs in an attempt to get a hint of friction on my clit. “We should continue on our walk.”
“Okay,” is what comes out of my mouth, but not what’s really on the tip of my tongue. If he can wait, so can I. Maybe.