Chapter 2 #2
“Well.” Sylvik’s smile was polite but there was disappointment in his eyes. “It would be a shame for Eastshore to lose you, but I’m glad to have met you for the holidays.”
Before I could think of a way to respond to that, my sister stacked her hands on the table and leaned forward, drawing both of us in.
“Okay, so. I’ve asked Sylvik to help you, Brooke.”
Slowly, my eyes widened in horror, remembering what she’d said about how organized and competent Sylvik was. I glanced between them—her hopeful look, his neutral one—and my heart sank.
“I can do this,” I told her numbly, all the old fears and inadequacies hitting me again. “I can be organized.”
But in the back of my mind, Ethan was rolling his eyes. Why are you so scatterbrained?
My little sister reached across the table to clasp my hand. “Brooke, I know you can. I didn’t mean it like that.”
I could tell she was telling the truth, but… I winced.
“I haven’t told Abydos this yet, but…” She glanced between us again. “I would really, really like the wedding to involve some orcish traditions. I know he feels like he left his world behind, but here on Eastshore, it’s definitely being rebuilt, right?”
I thought she was talking to me until Sylvik finally pulled his attention away from me—I could feel his gaze moving away, which was weird as hell—to nod to her.
“I didn’t believe it until I moved out here, but yes.
Sakkara—and Garrak, now that he’s settling here—are doing their best to bring us together and keep our heritage alive. ”
His voice was just as creamy and delicious as I remembered.
Trying to distract myself, I pulled my hand from Riven’s and grabbed the cocoa, taking a big gulp, then licking the whipped cream from my lip.
“See?” My sister’s grin looked hopeful. “We haven’t invited all the orcs, just the guys Abydos is close with…but I would like to incorporate some of his ancestors’ wedding traditions.”
“I don’t know any of them,” I told her dully.
Sylvik cleared his throat. “I could find them out.”
“You don’t know them already?” Riven asked. “From your world?”
“I wasn’t raised in the orc world,” he explained quietly, his eyes dark beneath his lowered lashes, as if he were watching us, waiting for our response. “Garrak and I moved from Alaska, where there’s an orc population.”
Riven looked more shocked than I was, maybe because I wasn’t exactly certain what he meant. “What?” she blurted. “There are orcs living in Alaska? Like…being born there?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know where I was born. Garrak’s mother found me when I was very young—he was already half grown by then—and raised me.”
“In Alaska,” Riven clarified. “You didn’t cross through the veil?”
He shook his head, and I saw his lips twitch on one side, as if he was amused by her astonishment.
“They stay a secret, of course, but there’s a whole community up there.
Garrak learned mining there, and when he moved—our mother was gone by then—I went with him to Colorado.
Some of the orcs who lived with us in Bramblewood were born here in the human world too. ”
“Holy shit,” Riven breathed.
I sipped my chocolaty drink, my gaze darting between them, not sure why this was a big deal, and what it had to do with me being scatterbrained.
But my sister shook her head. “Okay, I have questions, but I’ll ask Abydos. In the meantime, could you get with Garrak and ask him about wedding traditions or whatever? I really want to incorporate some, and I know you the best—”
“Of course,” Sylvik interrupted smoothly, offering her a reassuring nod. “I’d be honored to help.” His dark gaze flicked to me. “That is, as long as Brooke is comfortable working with me.”
Comfortable?
I don’t think there was anything that would make me comfortable working around a male who made my blood race and my palms sweaty and my core tighten. But then Riven swung her hopeful gaze my way, and I sighed in surrender.
“This isn’t just because you think I’m chaotic and incompetent?”
She reared back, and I could see from the genuine surprise in her eyes that she’d never considered such a thing, and that made me feel better. “I don’t think you’re chaotic and incompetent,” she assured me. “I think you’re brilliant. I just want some orc stuff.”
Orc stuff. Reluctantly, my lips curled upward, and my hand tightened around my mug. “Okay then.”
Riven exhaled in what I hoped was relief, then she began to scootch out of the booth. “I have to get to Cole’s Seafood to make sure they have my Christmas order.” She fixed Sylvik and me with a fierce stare, one after the other. “You are coming to Christmas Eve, right?”
“Obviously,” I chirped, feeling a little better—maybe it was the cocoa?—as Sylvik murmured, “Absolutely, thank you.” Then my sister was gone, leaving me staring across the table at him.
“Hi,” I managed, yet again.
And this time, when he grinned, it made me feel…warm. “I’m glad to run into you again.”
“I think I ran into you.” I was fiddling with the mug. “I’m sorry, again.”
“It really wasn’t a problem. Did you get your tree set up?”
“It’s soaking in water right now. We’re trying to rehydrate it.” I winced. “Did Mr. Jurgen explain that to you? I guess I should have, if you’ve never had a tree before—”
“I didn’t buy one,” he interrupted. “I was too…distracted.”
Was that a wink? Did he just wink at me? “Distracted?” The word came out as a squeak.
“I’d run into this lovely young lady, you see, and I hadn’t caught her name, and I wish I had.”
Oh. I… “Uh.” I realized I’d stopped breathing, and now sucked in a gulp of air. “I thought about you too,” I admitted before lifting the mug to hide my blush.
I told myself the hot chocolate was why I was suddenly feeling quite warm, as his gaze dropped to my lips almost speculatively. He didn’t look up when he murmured, “I’m glad I found you again, Brooke.”
Pretty sure my inner monologue made a noise like gaaaak at that, because how could I not? I think my brain had stopped working as my libido focused on that simple phrase.
I’m glad I found you.
Had anyone ever said that to me? I mean, anyone I wasn’t related to and thus obligated to like me?
“What are you drinking?”
Work, brain! Tongue, words! Lips, move!
Right, I could do this. I forced myself to pretend nonchalance. “It’s today’s special hot chocolate, Mistletoe Mistake. Cherry and mint.” I pushed it toward him. “You want to try it?”
Idiot. Now he’s obligated to say yes! What if he doesn’t want to and—
But Sylvik hadn’t hesitated to scoop up a spoon and reach for the mug. He dipped it in almost eagerly, then lifted it to his lips.
My mouth was definitely hanging open as I watched him pull that spoonful of cocoa and whipped cream into his lips, that spoon disappearing between those small tusks. I realized I was jealous of a spoon. A spoon.
And then he hummed in approval, and I swear to you that sent a flood of liquid straight to my core. I had to press my thighs together to contain it, and when his nostrils flared—and I remembered what I’d read about orc senses being so acute—I found myself blushing again.
But also? Kinda not minding it.
“This is delightful,” Sylvik announced as he pulled the spoon from his lips, and I swallowed, wishing I could hear him say something like that about me.
It took a few tries to get my throat to work. “Do you—uh, do you want the rest?”
“Don’t be silly, it’s yours.” He pushed it back across the table to me. “But I’m definitely going to order my own Mistletoe Mistake as you tell me how I can help you with the wedding.”
I found myself staring in shock. He wanted to help? I mean…yes, Riven had asked him to, but she also praised his organization and whatever, and I assumed that meant he’d…you know. He’d take over the planning.
But instead, he was offering to help me with the wedding?
Sylvik turned the binder so it faced me and pulled out his phone. “I’ll take notes, if you don’t mind. Just tell me what you need help with, and I’ll do my best.”
Oh wow. He really was going to defer to me, even though he was all type-A? Ethan had never once deferred—
Stop comparing Sylvik to Ethan, FFS!
Right. I cleared my throat again and pushed aside the hot chocolate. “Well, since I don’t know anything about orcish wedding traditions, why don’t we start with that?”
“Excellent.” His fingers flew competently across the screen.
“I’ll ask Garrak for suggestions, and in the meantime, I’m going to go out on a pretty obvious limb and say greenery.
Abydos in particular really cares about and reveres the natural world, so if it’s possible to include some fresh greens, that would be great. ”
Like Christmas trees. Still, I busied myself with a quick note in the margin of one of my pages. “Totally doable. What else could we include?”
Alice eventually brought Sylvik his own hot cocoa, and then I ordered some of the diner’s amazing fry baskets for us to split, as I explained where I was in the planning process.
The wedding would be small, so although we only had three weeks until New Year’s, I was fairly confident I could pull it off.
And now that I had Sylvik’s help? I was certain of it.
I just had to make it through the next three weeks without doing anything else embarrassing, like dropping a tree on him or throwing myself in his arms and demanding he kiss me.
Right. Easy.