Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Jocelyn
When the hell did my suitcase get this heavy?
It’s not your suitcase, it’s your heart.
Huffing in irritation, I told myself to quit being so maudlin, and I slammed the trunk of my sedan. The parking garage was dimly lit, and I figured that was a good thing; I didn’t need anyone to see my tear tracks and stop to try to help.
The engine turned over on the first try, and I started getting weepy again, remembering how Brakkor had stepped in to fix it. He’d done so many nice things for me in the last few weeks…
Just trying to get into your pants.
Right. Well, it had worked. I was going to miss him being in my pants most of all.
No, that wasn’t true. I was going to miss his blunt sense of humor, which always caught me off guard, and the way he seemed to know what I needed before I needed it, or the way he helped me understand new ways of looking at problems—
Then why did you leave him?
I squinted against the sunlight as I turned onto Main Street, telling myself I’d done the right thing in making the decision to leave. If I’d waited around, falling more and more in love with him, it would have hurt all that much worse when Brakkor decided he was bored with me.
Right.
And I wasn’t ever, ever going to let myself be hurt like that again. Even if walking out of his door had been the toughest thing I’d ever done, I was in a better place now, right?
Right. I pulled into a parking spot in front of Town Hall, deciding this was as good a better place as any I could be in, and reached for my laptop. The council meeting began in ninety minutes, so I needed to focus on my speech and my arguments.
I owed it to Mr. Frapp, and to the people of Eastshore, who had been so welcoming these last two weeks.
Part of me wondered if I would have stayed these last two weeks without Mr. Frapp’s offer.
Or would I have headed back home to try to find a new dead-end job?
I might not have any future here on Eastshore, but I’d done something good, something right.
I could visit Kesha and Milo and know I’d made their town a little nicer.
Assuming I could ace this presentation and convince the town council.
Of course, if not, if the Eastshore Lighthouse didn’t have a place to be moved to, it was possible Mr. Frapp would need me for longer—
Don’t even think about it.
Yeah. I couldn’t purposefully torpedo this presentation on the tiny chance Mr. Frapp might continue to pay me until next month’s meeting…I still had to look at myself in the mirror each day, after all. And I couldn’t do that without trying my absolute best.
Heaving a huge sigh, I clicked through my presentation again.
Twenty minutes before the meeting, the parking lot began to fill up, but I sat in my car and tried to calm my nerves by seeing who I recognized.
It was easier to be nervous about this presentation than sad about the long drive home I had ahead of me and the empty, stale apartment waiting back on the mainland.
And Brakkor.
Oh, there was Kesha and the boys! And Zoe from the library, and her Mate, carrying a little dog.
I recognized Sakkara, and that must be his Mate and daughter walking beside him.
There was Mr. Wilson from the hardware store, and Mrs. Edith, who made the best waffles, and two of the servers from Debbie’s Diner.
I resisted the urge to wave to everyone and instead just sat in my car, hands on my lap, thinking about this special community and how, just for a little time, I’d made myself a part of it.
Ten minutes before the meeting was supposed to start, a group of six or so orc males arrived, talking and laughing amongst themselves. I wondered if this was a group who worked together at the same construction company Brakkor—
Then they parted, and I saw him. Brakkor walked with his head down, his hands in his pockets, looking…thoughtful? The other males clearly tried to include him, but he didn’t seem interested in joining their boisterous behavior.
You hurt him.
Did I? When I’d been planning how to break things off with him, I’d told myself that he might be sad for a short time, but he’d get over me, and it was worth it to save myself pain.
But now that I saw him, saw what I’d done to him, I realized my heart hurt more from his pain than it could from my own.
Surrounded by his friends, he looked so…lonely.
Chad had had a large group of friends, and he went out with them often.
He’d always been so outgoing, so charming, it was no wonder he’d attracted the women he’d slept with while I lived with him.
But I also remembered the way Chad used to tease me in front of his friends, laugh about me being a ball and chain, or dismiss me and my achievements.
Brakkor hadn’t ever done that.
It was impossible to imagine him ever teasing me in front of his friends, or laughing about me.
This is an inconvenient time to realize he might not be the same kind of asshole Chad was.
Frowning, I climbed out of my sedan and began to gather my things. Brakkor called himself an asshole, but really, he was just blunt and brash and didn’t care about social niceties. He wasn’t cruel, wasn’t mean.
You really need to focus. Think about your rash stupidity later.
Right.
With a deep breath, I straightened my shoulders and marched into Town Hall.
“There you are, dear!”
The familiar call had me jerking my head up, glancing about to see—was that a kilt?
Sure enough, Mr. Frapp was strolling toward me in full Scottish regalia, down to the furry purse thingy hanging down in front of his crotch.
Only, the kilt was pink and teal, and I seriously doubted any clan claimed those colors.
“What do you think?” He stuck out a veiny, wrinkled leg and admired his socks.
“I had it designed especially for me. I decided the Frapps needed their own tartan.” Then he swayed back and forth, sending his pleats swishing.
“I like how freeing it is. Ask me what a true Scotsman wears under his kilt,” he prompted with a wink.
“Uh…” I hugged my laptop to my chest. “I didn’t realize you were Scottish, Mr. Frapp.”
“Augustus, my dear! And I’m not, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be authentic.” He moved to my side and slid his arm through mine. “Now, can I walk you in? I can’t wait to see your presentation and hear where the town is going to agree to put my family’s lighthouse.”
I’d been to his home several times in the last two weeks, each time to discuss logistics and possibilities with him, so he knew what I was going to propose. And I wasn’t quite ready to step inside…
Luckily, Milo chose that moment to bound up to me. “Aunt Jossy, good luck in there!”
I plastered on a fake smile for Mr. Frapp. “Actually, Augustus, I was hoping to have a moment with my best friend to prepare myself.”
“Oh, yes, my dear, I completely understand. Psych yourself up all you need.” He released me and patted Milo on the head as he passed. “Go get them, tiger, et cetera, et cetera.”
“Is your mom around?” I asked Milo when Augustus was out of earshot.
Milo jerked his thumb over his shoulder, then ran off toward where Jay was holding the door to the meeting room. I met Kesha in the middle of the room. She put her hands on my upper arms, took one look at my expression, and said, “Oh, Jocelyn, what’s wrong?”
Really, it’s amazing I managed not to break down when she hugged me. I clung to her and reminded myself that I really was lucky to have her.
“I’ve really enjoyed these last two weeks,” I confessed to her shoulder. “Being able to see you whenever I wanted was just like old times.”
“Oh, hon.” She pressed her cheek to the side of my head. “I love you, but this isn’t about you having to go, is it?”
“Of course it is.” Except, I couldn’t lie to her. “I’m really going to miss—” My voice caught. “I’m going to miss Brakkor too. But it’s for the best.”
Her hand rubbed up and down my spine. “Why? Did he do something wrong?”
“Not yet, but he would.” I took a deep, shuddering breath. “He was starting to say the same things Chad said, remember? About us being together and having a future, and he doesn’t realize it’s just a matter of time until he gets bored with me.”
Kesha was frowning when she set me away from her to study my expression. “Jocelyn, you can’t judge him by what Chad did. Brakkor declaring his love—”
“Oh,” I interrupted with a forced laugh, “he didn’t do anything that serious. But he called me his Mate, like that was supposed to solve everything.”
My best friend opened her mouth, then paused and glanced over my shoulder. To my surprise, she began to flush. I wasn’t sure why…not until I heard the voice of her new marriage-of-convenience husband.
“Excuse me, Jocelyn, I couldn’t help but overhear…”
As if I didn’t know orc senses were so much stronger that he likely could have heard a pin drop from across town. Still, I tried to smile politely, all the while a voice in the back of my mind reminded me that Brakkor wouldn’t worry about being polite; he’d just say what he thought.
Korrad’s expression seemed awkward, but softened as he glanced between us. “Surely you’ve noticed that there are orcs on Eastshore who are Mated?”
I nodded. “I’ve met a few of them—or at least, their wives. Zoe and Luxor, and Jess and her husband. You and Kesha.”
I heard my best friend suck in a breath, and Korrad’s gaze went to her for a moment. Was it my imagination, or did his cheeks darken just slightly before he shook his head almost sadly?
“Kesha and I are married, Jocelyn. There’s a big difference. Zoe and Jess aren’t wives, they’re Mates.”
I huffed. “I took enough anthropology classes to know about differences in rituals—”
“No,” he interrupted, this time with a harder headshake.
“Mating isn’t a social situation, it’s biological.
There is a knowing—that’s what we’re told as kitlings.
When we find our Mates…” His fingertips pressed against his chest, as if he could feel his heart.
“We recognize them. They are our forever, and the idea of being disloyal to them is just…impossible.” He clucked his tongue in irritation.
“I’m not doing a good job of explaining. ”
Unable to resist, I’d felt hope rising in my chest. “A knowing?” I whispered, wracking my brain for anything I’d read about this. “It’s biological?”
Korrad nodded. “For a male to forsake his Mate would be like cutting off his own arm; Mates are a part of us.” His lips curled ruefully. “Brakkor never believed in the inevitability of Mating, despite witnessing mine, but I think—recently—he’s come around.”
I stared at him, eyes wide, trying to process what Korrad was trying to tell me. “You’re saying…that Brakkor calling me Mate wasn’t just like, a term of endearment? It means we’re…what? Dating now?”
“Dating? No.” Korrad’s lips curled up on one side as he reached for my hand. “It means you two are bonded in a way that only death can part, and that I can start calling you sister now, because your future is irrevocably twined with Brakkor’s.”
Oh, holy shit.
The sounds around me grew dim, and the edges of my vision began to go black. Was this what hyperventilating felt like? The entire world narrowed to Korrad’s amused grin, but I wasn’t seeing it, not really.
Mate.
That’s what…Brakkor wasn’t just calling me “honey” or “girlfriend” or whatever. Not even “wife”, like Kesha was—like I thought Jess and Zoe were! Mate meant something…else.
But then Kesha was pulling me around, holding me steady, piercing me with her dark eyes. “Jocelyn!” She shook me a little. “Joss, listen! You can melt down or freak out later, okay? They just called the council meeting to order, and you’re going to have to snap out of it.”
“Mate?” I whispered to her.
Kesha frowned. “I swear to God, Jocelyn, if you make me slap you to get you to focus, I’ll never forgive you.”
That sounded so much like a Kesha-ism that I found myself grinning at her. “I’d probably never forgive you either.” Her ridiculousness had done what nothing else could; pulled me back to the present.
She was right; I could unpack this Mate nonsense later.
With a sigh, my bestie dropped her hold on me. “Oh, thank God. And for the record, you would forgive me. Probably thank me.”
I grinned and leaned in for a hug. “Probably. This is…” I straightened with a huge exhale. “Holy shit.”
She pushed me toward the doors to the big room. “It’s deep, yes, but you can deal with it later. You’ve worked too hard on this to flake out just before your big presentation. You have everything? Do you need water?”
“Yes, and no to the water.” I grinned over at her. “Aren’t you supposed to ask me if I need to pee? Or spit on your thumb and wipe off a smudge from my nose?”
“You look lovely.” Still, she fussed over my wispy bangs for a moment. “Give ‘em hell, Jocelyn.”