Chapter 1 #2
“Chessie!” Marigold squealed loudly, freezing in her tracks before sprinting toward Chester who was already halfway across the lawn. He dropped his bag, opening his arms for her right in time for her to catapult her tiny body into his chest.
Tiny though she was, a vampire her age most likely hadn’t figured out her strength or speed yet, so it was a testament to Chester’s own enhanced abilities that he’d caught her with ease.
The smile on his face is one of the few genuine joyous reactions I’d seen from him lately.
“Are you giving Aunt Stevie a hard time, Goldie girl?”
Chester ignored his baseball bag, hoisting his sister over his shoulder, carrying her up the steps of the wraparound porch toward the wide, double-door entrance currently decorated with pumpkins, gourds, and fall leaves.
“Thanks, Chess,” his aunt called in a frantic tone, rushing toward his fallen bag. The kid gave her a nod but not much else. Normally I’d say it was rude, but the adult charged with caring for him couldn’t even pick him up from practice?
Maybe my abandonment issues were showing despite the years of therapy I’d had, but I was upset.
The female walked toward me after slinging Chester’s bag over her shoulder.
Her bright orange curls, some frizzy and others glued to her face by sweat, were falling out of the big bun on the top of her head.
I took in her full curves and the way she carried herself, so sure and confident, like she dared anyone to question her, despite the fact she was covered in the remnants of papier-maché, looking overall a mess.
The papier-maché was sign enough she’d agreed to host the Carew Haunt, even though she was only in town to watch Chester and Marigold.
She could have asked for help from the town or could have just said “no.” Dolly’s sister clearly had her hands full without committing to hosting the biggest event in Maplewicket during our busiest season.
She was still catching her breath as she met me, stretching out a hand that was covered in sticky newspaper strips in greeting.
“Thanks so much for bringing Chester home. I haven’t had a chance to meet you yet with everything going on, but I’m assuming you’re his coach.
My sister didn’t leave much in way of scheduling for the emergency since she was supposed to be back before now, but that’s really just an excuse because I did know about the practice and when to pick him up, and I’d planned to come early so we could discuss—”
“I get Marigold is a handful,” I couldn’t stop myself despite seeing her exhaustion and knowing she’d clearly bitten off more than she could chew.
My priority was Chester’s well-being, and she’d already demonstrated her lack of care for it by forgetting him tonight.
“And you’re just an out-of-towner with no experience watching halfling-vampire children, clearly.
” I ignored her subtle flinching at my description of her.
“But you signed up for this. You need to make both kids a priority. Chester’s older, but he’s been going through enough with those teenage hormones running rampant, let alone his parents calling up some rando to watch him and his sister, gallivanting off to who knows where.
Have you even taken the time to check in with him lately?
The kid looks like a ghost of himself. He needs a reliable and stable guardian who can show up for him, not an irresponsible little girl who can’t even manage her time effectively to pick him up from practice. ”
I heard the words coming out of my mouth, especially the overly harsh language, yet like the stubborn bastard I was, still let them fly.
Why was it any of my business what this woman did with her niece and nephew?
I was protective of my players and kept tabs on their general well-being, and Chester wasn’t even doing that poorly overall. Every kid had off days.
Stevie was close enough that I noticed her eyes first. Big, round, grass-green irises were slowly lining with unshed tears before her pupils narrowed at a target—me.
If I’d kept my mouth shut, I might have noticed the gaunt look on her own face that went much further than only some bags under her eyes.
She looked fair-skinned already, but there was a pallor to her complexion that hinted at her exhaustion and stress.
I let my gaze wander away from her piercing gaze and took in her full figure, all delicious curves stacked perfectly on a tall frame.
She had to be at least five foot eleven.
Her pale skin was quickly flushing an angry red the longer she stared at me.
Her expression, only moments ago, curious and inviting as she’d stuck her hand out to introduce herself, was now bubbling over with barely concealed rage.
She stepped up to me and stabbed her silver and black painted fingertip into my chest. The crinkle of the newspaper almost made me laugh but the sad and angry female had my full attention as her scent enveloped me, blasting a hole into my fabric of reality, unraveling life as I knew it in a few short moments.
Peaches.
Cinnamon.
Candied almonds.
Fuck. Me.
Mate.
“Listen here, you big butthole,” the copper-haired, stunning goddess before me started, jabbing her tiny finger into my chest again, harder with closer aim.
“First. I’m not a little girl. Learn to speak to adult women in their thirties with some class and respect instead of infantilizing us.
Second. You don’t know shit about what we’re going through.
So maybe get off your know-it-all high horse before lecturing me on fuck-all.
Third. You can fuck off right back to whatever hole you crawled out of to pass judgment on someone who was the cool aunt visiting for a weekend of junk food and movie marathons thrust into a weeks, or fuck maybe months—who knows?
—long guardianship situation who hasn’t heard from her sister in over five days because of course something happened with their cell phones in the Alaskan wilderness horror movie she didn’t sign up for.
And fourth, you conceited prick, if baseball wasn’t the only thing Chester seemed to smile about since I’ve been here and I love him too much to take it away, I’d yank his little emo ass so far away from you and your team so he wouldn’t be around such a… such a—”
“Giant asshole?” I supplied, barely able to get the words out as her scent continued to swirl around me, praying to every god and goddess I’d heard of that this angry, perfect-smelling human wouldn’t notice my inappropriately rock-hard cock growing stiffer by the second.
“Yes! Exactly! Giant. Asshole.” She bent over to pick up the bag she’d thrown on the ground to get in my face. Normally I’d be impressed with anyone getting in a seven-foot-tall orc’s face, but I learned to never underestimate a female’s wrath long ago. Plus, in this case, I deserved it.
I’d been projecting my own issues onto her. So naturally I’d insulted her instead of asking if she was okay or needed any help in a new town with probably little support around.
I tried to ignore the delicious view of her generous cleavage as she stood back up, straightening her spine as she pinned that beautifully lethal glare that promised pain on me again.
“Now, coach,” she said my title with an obscene amount of venom.
“You’ll have to excuse me as I need to make sure my niblings are eating their dinner.
And yes, it’s from a box, and probably shit for them nutritionally speaking, so no need to light my ass up for that too. ”
She turned, giving me another sinful view of her perfectly round ass in the tight black leggings she wore. Even covered in paste, she looked like everything I’d dreamed of in a mate.
Mate.
I’d been a giant, raging jerk to my mate before I even knew she was my mate, and now she (rightfully so) hated me.
I sighed in defeat.
Lyle was going to eat this shit up when I told him.
I’d probably need his help in wooing the aunt since he seemed well-versed in the subject.
Despite what I was taught about orc courtship being a somewhat volatile and rough engagement, something told me pissing your mate off enough that she cursed you out on her front lawn wasn’t the best start to a fated mate courting.
I took another deep inhale, attempting to catch any remnants of my mate’s peachy spiced candied almond goodness left in the air, as I watched her walk further away.
I tried not to laugh at the middle finger she threw at me before slamming the big oak doors to Carew House, causing one of the drying papier-maché pumpkins hanging on the front porch to fall and droop inward.