Chapter 17 Willa
WILLA
Eng hadn’t given me the slightest hint of where we were going tonight.
Knowing I’d be ridiculously overdressed for a dive bar, I took a chance and slid into a silky, white Grecian-style dress that highlighted the gold in my skin tone and clung in flattering folds to my athletic body.
The skirt was mid-thigh, but I didn’t worry about a spare breeze causing a Marilyn Monroe moment.
I’d worn my pretty lacy boy shorts that deserved to be seen, and I had absolute confidence in the smooth muscular tone of my thighs and rear end.
I was less sure about a potential nip-slip given my braless state, so I utilized some strategic boob-tape to prevent that sort of wardrobe malfunction.
My inky hair was piled up into an argan-oiled smooth topknot that would do a ballerina proud, and I’d added a three-row, fake-pearl choker to draw attention away from my meager chest to the elegant column of my neck.
Never the one for heavy makeup, I dusted a little smokey gray eyeshadow onto my lids, brushed a light coat of mascara on my eyelashes, and highlighted my prominent cheekbones with a bit of coral.
My biggest genetic regret was that I hadn’t inherited my mother’s full lips, but I did my best to accentuate what I’d gotten from my Polish-descent father with glossy red.
Satisfied with the effect, I covered it all up with a long wool coat because the fall weather had decided to shift below freezing tonight.
That might be mild for my northern-raised friends like Jordan, but it was damned chilly for me.
Ah well. The heavy wool coat would give me a chance to dramatically reveal my amazing dress once we were inside whatever dollar-coffee dive Eng chose to take me to.
Then I went to Urban Axes on North Haven Street.
Eng was waiting outside. His dark eyes locked on me as I walked toward him, taking in my topknot of hair, my red lips, and the long wool coat. Then he stared at the three-inch strappy sandals on my feet.
“We are throwing axes,” he reminded me.
I put one hand on a hip. “Yeah?”
He pointed to my shoes.
“Bold of you to think I can’t throw an axe while wearing a dress and heels.”
His dark eyes heated. “I apologize for doubting you.”
“Apology accepted.” I brushed past him to the entrance, holding the door for him.
The confusion and indecision on his face nearly made me laugh.
Finally he took the door from me, motioned me to go ahead.
The dark-skinned man with a freshly barbered high-and-tight at the counter eyed me appreciably, his eyes widening as he moved his gaze to Eng.
“You’re one of those hockey-team orcs!”
Eng glared at him. “I’m Eng, son of the Chieftan Mrong of Clan Waragur, prince of the Kingdom of Waragur.”
“Yes, he’s one of the hockey-team orcs,” I added, because this clerk clearly didn’t give a crap about Eng’s title.
The guy, newly impressed, assigned us our area and passed us a printed sheet with the rules, letting us know that we had the lane reserved for an hour.
Eng and I went to the appropriately marked door, closing it behind us once we’d entered.
At the end of a thirty-foot narrow room was a scarred wooden wall with a giant paper target.
The floor had been marked with lines at various distances, and to the right of the door was a rack with a dozen axes on it.
Eng hefted one and scowled. “These are inferior weapons.”
“Because they’re for practice and fun, not actually killing monsters,” I informed him.
“Practice and fun still deserve implements without chipped, dull edges.”
I rolled my eyes. Then I took off my coat.
Eng’s attention abruptly shifted from the axe to my body. The weapon in his hand fell to the floor with a loud thud.
“And that’s probably why these axes have chipped and dull edges,” I informed him with a smirk.
“Unless you make a habit of coming here with other males, I very much doubt that is the reason for the poor condition of these weapons.” A muscle in his jaw twitched and he took a few steps toward me.
I moved as if I were going to walk into his arms, then skirted around him to pick up one of the axes and throw it at the wall. It wasn’t the easiest move in a dress and heels but I was happy that the blade sank into the wood instead of bouncing off it, even though I didn’t hit the target.
Eng grinned, grabbed the axe he’d dropped onto the ground, and flung it at the wall. Bullseye. Of course.
I huffed out a breath, taking better aim with my next throw and managing to hit the outer ring of the target. This time when Eng went to throw his axe, I lifted the hem of my skirt to reveal the lacy hem of my underwear.
The weapon bounced off the far edge of the wooden wall and clattered to the ground.
“That is not fair.” Eng’s guttural growl sent a bolt of heat down between my thighs.
“All is fair in love and war,” I told him as my next axe stuck just outside the target.
The hour went fast, filled with banter and teasing and…flirting. Eng won score-wise, but I was scoring in other ways. Witty repartee, and smoking-hot glances made the orc even more sexy. We left Urban Axes and took an Uber into Little Italy, and I felt myself falling desperately in love.
As we walked into Costiera’s, my heart stuttered. “How…you…I love this place,” I sputtered. “It’s my absolute favorite.”
“Pork belly porchetta?” he asked.
I nearly gasped. “It’s sooo good!”
“I’ve never been here, but a friend recommended it—and recommended the pork belly porchetta as well.”
“Your friend didn’t steer you wrong,” I assured him, thinking that the only thing that could make this date better was cannoli at Vacarros after dinner, and then a night of sex after that.
We both ordered the pork belly porchetta.
Eng went overboard on the appetizers, letting me know that both of us would need the fuel for the rest of the evening.
My thoughts immediately went to the bedroom, but the placid expression on the orc’s face made me wonder if he had something else in mind.
Hopefully it didn’t involve jogging, given my choice of footwear.
We were starting on our second glass of wine and digging into a table full of appetizers when Eng suddenly asked me how my family was.
My family.
“Good, thanks. I’m looking forward to Christmas. My siblings are all going to be in town for the holiday so we’re going to be squished-in like sardines in a can. Hopefully the weather is good so we can spill into the backyard.”
“There are eight of you?” Eng asked. “Plus two sets of grandparents, your parents, then spouses and children? That will make for a crowded holiday gathering.”
Oh God, he remembered. And he sounded a little envious, as if the idea of almost thirty people crammed into a house was his idea of Christmas perfection.
“Yep. It’s going to be a whole lot of chaos.
I’m the baby of the family. Emmajean is the eldest and she lives in Atlanta with her husband.
She and Johnny’s kids are all grown with families of their own, so it might be just the pair of them this year.
Charlene is divorced and living in DC. She’s bringing her youngest who is a senior in college.
Trey’s ex-wife has his kids this year, so he’ll be solo coming up from Tampa.
Michaela and Jame’s daughter is on some ski-vacation in France, but they’ll be here for Christmas from Chicago.
Leroy’s local, and will come with his wife and two kids.
Agatha also lives locally and is bringing Mia, who at ten is quite the little soccer star.
Then there’s Terrance who is bringing his husband Jacob.
They’re both living in Olney, so they won’t have far to come. And then there’s me.”
No husband. No kids. I thought about maybe inviting Eng, but one amazing date didn’t make a stable relationship and Christmas was months away.
Although from the nostalgic expression on his face, my family might not be too much for the orc.
Huh. If this thing between us lasted, then I would absolutely dump him into the deep end of the Filipkowski holiday madness.
“That’s quite the family.” Eng nodded thoughtfully. “Easily accommodated even including your parents and grandparents and whatever aunts and uncles and cousins may attend. I assume they will all be staying over at your house?”
Wine about shot out of my nose. After a brief coughing fit, I managed to croak out a vehement “No.” Eng waited patiently for me to elaborate.
“I live in a tiny studio apartment. Which means I don’t even have a separate bedroom.
It’s one small room, a kitchen sectioned off by a counter that serves as my dining table, and one additional room with a shower, a sink, and a toilet.
It’s barely big enough for me. We’ll be at my parents’ house, which isn’t what I’d call large, but somehow managed to fit ten of us back in the day.
Charlene and Alice will probably get a hotel rather than drive from DC Christmas day.
The three that aren’t local will stay at my parents’ house, though.
It would be insulting to my parents if they didn’t.
Charlene and Alice getting a hotel for the night is always a huge secret, because if my mom knew, she’d insist on pulling out the sofa bed or putting inflatable mattresses in the family room or something. ”
“My mother would also be upset if my siblings and their families chose to stay elsewhere.” Eng took a sip of his wine. “My sister Cskila still lives in the castle, as do I.”
There was a sudden stiffness in his shoulders. I hesitated, but since he’d asked about my family, I felt I should do the same.
“It’s just you and your sister?” I smiled. “I can’t quite imagine that, growing up with seven brothers and sisters like I did.”
He toyed with his wine glass for a moment, never looking up at me. “Cskila and I were the only ones to survive the plague. I lost two sisters and my youngest brother.”