20. Lurielle

Lurielle

Everyone in her life had been put there for a reason, right down to the strangers in the coffee shop.

Everyone, that was of course, except for her ex.

Tev and her mother occupied the same corner in her journal exercise of why were they sent to me. In a fucked up way, it helped to look at her relationship with her mother as something that had been by design, cosmically aligned, intentionally set to challenge her, to help her form firm personal boundaries and escape the emotional abuse with what was left of her self-esteem, which wasn't much. Lurielle put her ex in the same column. Tev had not merely been a symptom of her inability to distinguish healthy relationships from bad ones, but had been placed in her path, she had decided, to teach her what a good man could look like — which was the opposite of everything he was.

He had challenged her to leave, and she had risen to the occasion.

It was a notion she'd clung to. That everything she had endured in her life wasn't her fault, something she'd deserved. Merely that she had reacted to those obstacles placed before her, and was finally learning healthier coping mechanisms and thought strategies. Despina and her friends had been put in her life to help her on that journey, and Khash had put on her path to love, unreservedly. This is what we call personal growth.

She'd clung so hard to the idea that Tev had merely been an obstacle in her road to happiness, that the sight of him now nearly upended her.

It was the end of winter. Cambric Creek was a frozen wasteland, dry, bitterly cold, and unyielding. It was too cold to snow, something she appreciated when she was in Bridgeton, for the grey slush of winter normally made the city roads a nightmare to traverse on foot. It was the last big freeze before the weather broke, claimed the meteorologists, the warmth of spring right around the corner, putting the big day so close, she could almost smell the cool water of that little lake.

Lurielle couldn't help but feel as if she and Khash were ensconced in their own little cocoon of relative harmony. Hunkered down for winter, content with each other, with what they were planning, the future before them. She could pretend that she didn't still have nights when her crying pillow was put to good use, but Despina was right – her analytical and problem solving mind had needed something to focus on, and her journaling project took up every minute of her time that wasn't spent snuggled up on the sofa with him, watching old movies and bad reality TV.

Ris didn't talk much about whatever relationship issues she and Ainsley were having, but Lurielle could see it in her friends eyes, when they sat in the break room at work. Dynah would chatter obliviously, and Tula would pull up a chair, taking the empty space that Silva had vacated. Dynah and Tula would laugh and gossip, Lurielle would eat her lunch as she listened, and watched as Ris fought a battle in her head, visible only through her troubled eyes.

Lurielle would pretend that she hadn't feel slightly left out of Silva and Ris's increased friendship over the previous summer. Logically, she understood. Tate and Ainsley were friends, whereas Khash and Tate could barely tolerate each other's presence, and Khash and Ainsley weren't much better. She understood the why behind it, but that hadn't changed the fact that she'd felt a bit left out.

She had been feeling a bit poorly for herself over it . . . until the events of that October.

Silva had gone through a bad breakup. That was the story that was being stuck to, although Lurielle didn't know if it was better or worse to add an additional layer of deceit on top of what was already a carnival of lies. She was the only one who knew anything who'd not been present that day at Tate's little bistro in the resort hamlet, and she was certain that what she did know was only half the story, but half the story had been enough.

She no longer felt left out of the friendship between her two co-workers, and wouldn't have minded being left out a bit further, left to lunch with Dynah.

Tate was gone, was not coming back, and his friends and coworkers were treating his absence as if he were dead, evidently at his own behest.

Her grandfather had frightened her with stories of fairies when she'd been just a young girl. Lurielle remembered very clearly, fishing with him and her brother. They would be sitting on the dock, their grandfather regaling them with stories of strangers who turned up at the pub off the pier, who made strange wagers and had too many fingers, the regulars with whom they spoke, who agreed to play their strange games, never heard from again.

There was one particular story of the fae her grandfather told, and it had frightened her so badly that she had wet the bed for an entire week after hearing it, too frightened to get up in the middle of the night.

He told them of a girl who'd lived nearby when he was growing up, years and years earlier. The Elvish children of their enclave would play in a clearing, he'd said, and they all knew to stay away from one particular tree. It was an easy thing to do, for the tree was both thorny and surrounded by a strange outcroppings of rocks, but that had not stopped one particular girl. She was an outsider, her grandfather had told them — preferred books to games, and would rather be alone than with the other children.

Lurielle would heat from her perch on the dock, feeling a terrible kinship with the girl in the story.

The girl would climb over the rocks, find a spot beneath the branches and read her book, hidden beneath the dense foliage and white flowers, hidden from the taunts of her Elvish schoolmates. And then one day, she simply didn't emerge.

We all watched her climb under those branches, each and every one of us. And then we went back to our game. No one bothered with her, not once. Unlike the rest of her grandfather's stories, his voice had been solemn and far-off as he recounted that particular tale. Her brother had scoffed that it wasn't a good story because there was no ending, but Lurielle understood. The girl was gone and that was the ending. Away with the fairies.

She didn't want to believe that the strange barkeep her friend had brought into all of their lives had vanished like the girl in the story. It was far easier to explain that he'd simply gone home, back across the sea, leaving his business and his girlfriend behind, easier to believe that by far . . . but Tate had always given off a strange, chaotic energy to her. Lurielle would certainly never say it aloud to Silva, but the thought of Tate being there at her wedding, knowing what she knew now, positively terrified her.

Silva had been practically catatonic. Lurielle had gone with Ris to visit her, on two different occasions after Tate had vanished, and she seemed no different the second time than the first. Listless and broken.

Lurielle wanted to understand. She had never had her own heartbroken in such a way, but the mere thought of losing Khash had sent her into a tailspin these last few months. She couldn't imagine what Silva was going through, couldn't imagine how she must feel, but finding out now was the best thing for their young friend. She would see it that way eventually, Lurielle was certain.

She never wanted to keep anything from Khash, but when she arrived home from Silva's apartment after that first visit, she found herself repeating the bad breakup line. Silva and Tate had parted ways and he was returning to Ireland. She knew without question the orcs in Greenbridge Glen would be overjoyed, but she did not want to give Khash the opportunity to disappoint her. They had bickered before over his attitude regarding Silva's boyfriend, and Lurielle's skin prickled to think that Khash's prejudicial feelings toward the Plundered Pixie's proprietor had more to do with his unorcish heritage and less to do with his strange, spiky personality.

Silva had returned to work, but she was little more than a drifting shadow of her former bubbly self, and she took pains to stay away from them. There was little more they could do.

As the winter wore on, Lurielle felt slightly removed from her friends, but she was happy in her little cocoon. She and Grace had scheduled a single touch base meeting in three months; it was all that had been necessary. They emailed back and forth weekly with updates, small adjustments to the guest list, a few additions to the menu. Her fitting room partner all those months ago had been correct. Once she actually knew what it was she wanted, and once she had removed Khash and his stonewalling from the equation, washing her hands of the dirty work had Lurielle looking forward to her own wedding for the first time in her entire life.

Her dress had been a revelation.

When the day of her first fitting had arrived, Lurielle's followed her GPS, her eyes narrowing in concern when it had her turning into the Applethorpe Wood. The road only went so far, she knew. Eventually it cut off, gravel walkways and path cutting through the thick trees taking its place. Hopefully this isn't going to require a hike.

Fortunately, it had not.

You have reached your destination.

She squinted at the dashboard, realizing that the address she had tapped in was, in fact, apparently right there. Right where? She was in the woods. There was no drive, no parking lots, no ranger station. There was, she realized after a few moments peering out her window, a pathway. A pathway off the road, cutting through the dark trees. Didn't you just relearn that you're afraid of fairies? Are you seriously going skipping off through the dark forest to find a dress?

She would take ten steps into the trees, Lurielle bargaining with herself. Not far enough away to leave sight of her car, there before the gravel pathway. And if you hear so much as a twig snap, you haul ass back to the car. But it was there.

A cottage in a little clearing, and half a dozen giant, dinner plate sized toads. She didn't know whether to be enchanted or horrified.

The toads let out a chorus as she approached, volleying their calls back to the house, and when the door swung open, Lurielle was positive she had found herself in the midst of one of those terrifying fairytales she'd heard as a girl and should have known better than to not listen to now.

"That's enough for now, quiet down. Bartholomew, if you don't stop that racket right this moment . . ." The old spider woman was somewhat hunched and withered-looking, and she gave Lurielle what was a mostly toothless smile as she beckoned her into the house. "I am so delighted that you reached out, dearie. It's been a while since I've had a chance to make something so lovely. And such a beautiful color! Let's get you up on this stool here."

She'd moved too quickly for Lurielle to be nervous, the wayward Bartholomew having hopped into the house before the spider woman swung the door shut. She made beady eye contact with the massive toad as the spider woman worked, too confused to be frightened.

The dress was going to be beautiful.

Simple in its construction, cutting off mid-calf in the front with a slight train fanning out behind her in the back, it was structured through the bodice with a gentle V neckline, and a kimono cut sleeve that stopped above her elbow. The spider woman had loomed over her with a mouth full of pins, her numerous arms working quickly — draping fabric, pinning it out, measuring the hemline. When Lurielle left a short while later, she had that feeling in her chest again, as if her heart was a balloon, slowly rising to the ceiling, taking her along with it.

She was excited. She couldn't deny it.

She was getting married and she was excited.

The invitations had been printed on baby blue vellum over a pearlescent card stock. Khash's immediate family had been invited, some of their closer friends there in Cambric Creek, a small handful of their coworkers, her great-grandmother, grandmother, and parents. Lurielle had made the call to her grandmother herself.

"Nana, I know we don't have the closest relationship. I wish we did, I hope we can change that, I don't think it's too late to do so. But I have a favor to ask. It's the only thing I want for my wedding."

Her grandmother had accepted the task with a zeal that surprised her. She was in charge of babysitting Lurielle's mother, and would swiftly silence her if she said a single negative thing.

She had also alerted Grace to the situation with her mother, and like everything else, the bubbly human had a fast solution. That's why we have staff on hand. I would have one of the guys kind of nearby anyway, just making sure that there are no technical difficulties or that nothing needs to be moved or shifted. If your mom wants to make a scene, they will pick her up and carry her away. You have my word.

And now here she was, bopping along on the sidewalk without a care in the world, feeling invincible for the first time in her life, Ordo plodding obediently beside her . . . and there was Tev, just ahead. With another fucking challenge you didn't ask for.

He was a full block away yet, hadn't even crossed the street, but it was undoubtedly him. It's not too late to move. She and Ordo had enough time to cross the road. Granted, they weren't at an intersection and would be stepping out into traffic, but she wondered if it was worth the risk. You can put your sunglasses on, duck your head, pretend you don't see him. Put your hair over your face, disguise yourself, do something! The little voice in her head rose in panic, but Lurielle shushed it.

"No," she said. "You're not going to do that." She blushed, realizing she'd spoken aloud, quickly glancing around to see if any passersby noticed that she was talking to herself.

He was immediately familiar, unmistakable in his arrogance, and overwhelmingly unattractive to her. That was the part that was most surprising, she thought. Were you ever actually attracted to him? Did you actually ever love him? Or were you just attracted to the idea of being with someone your mother approved of? He was a Summerland elf, like her. Honey gold hair, peaches-and-cream skin, his lips were thin and his chin was sharp, and his slight underbite always made it look as if he were chewing something.

His slight physical imperfections were hardly a moral failing, but, Lurielle reminded herself, that was the point.

She'd never cared about any of those things, while Tev had cared so much about her appearance, her weight, her size. How she dressed, how she did her make-up, how she acted when they were out. Everything about her was something he was able to find fault with, and she accepted it for years.

And none of that matters now. It was true, she echoed the louder voice inside her, her voice. It didn't matter at all. Not because of Khash, not because she was coupled, about to be married. Because for the first time in her life and in spite of the elf walking in her direction, she didn't hate the person she saw in the mirror each day. The elf staring back at her every morning was smart and brave and pretty fucking cute, if she did say so herself, and completely deserving of the happily ever after. After all, she reminded herself. Thick thighs save lives.

"C'mon, boy," she whispered to Ordo. "We can do this."

If he'd not noticed, she intended to walk on by, not saying a thing. She never needed to say a thing to him ever again. Unfortunately, she was not going to be that lucky.

"Lurielle?"

She paused upon her approach, making a show of cocking her head, looking surprised.

"Oh . . . wow. Hi. What are you doing in Bridgeton?"

No sense in beating around the bush, she told herself. Just get it over with. Set the fucking bush on fire and trip him as you walk past.

"Work. Just a few months. My company is opening an office here and I'm on the team doing the setup. They've got us set up over in the Bridgeman, very nice accommodations. How about you? You're doing dog walking now?"

She had never been that girl, but Lurielle was fast learning that she could be.

It was incredibly typical for him to take a swing within the first few minutes of the conversation, and she looked back at the shrinking mouse she had been for years, taking it. She would never be that girl again, but Lurielle wanted to protect her, to hit back for her. Everyone placed in her path was put there for a reason, and Tev was there to remind her of how far she had come. To challenge her to rise to the occasion. Challenge fucking accepted. She smiled broadly.

"I'm an engineer, Tev. But I'm pretty sure you know that. The Bridgman, that's what, business class? Like, long-term corporate, right? We're in the Templeton. Over on the water."

She smiled angelically, showing off the at-home whitening treatments she had been doing religiously every week for the past several months. She didn't care about snooty addresses, but she knew Tev and his ilk certainly did. And there's not a building in the city more swanky. And if he's been here for five minutes, he knows it.

"Nothing but the best for Ordo. Isn't that right, baby boy," she asked the big mastiff, giving him a scratch behind the ears. Ordo, the most relaxed, chilled-out canine she had ever encountered, growled, low in his throat. That's my good boy.

Lurielle could see his mind parsing through her words. A slow blink. "We?"

"Mhm. Me. And my fiancé."

She could see the confusion in his eyes, trying to work out who this confident stranger was before him, smiling as if she didn't have a care in the world. And she doesn't. Because you're just an asshole with bad opinions, and you don't matter at all. She knew Tev well enough, and saw his recovery, his pivot. He wasn't as good at this as she'd always thought, Lurielle realized.

"You know, I saw your parents not too long ago. I was at a club fundraiser they attended. Your mom didn't say anything about you getting married."

Lurielle paused. Of course he brought up her mother, always knowing where her weaknesses were. Do not stutter and stammer and come up with something snappy to say in four days. You can do this!

Fortunately, she didn't have to.

"Darlin', now I know you didn't go hoofin' off in front of BelCastro's without even slowing down enough for me to think about take-out intentionally, right?"

Khash and Junie had caught up to her last. Her stomach lurched, wondering how to make this introduction.

"Khash, this is —"

"Oh, bless your heart with those short pants in this weather, boy. Look at what you like!"

His rich, syrupy voice was cranked up to eleven. Lurielle didn't know it was her imagination or if he had somehow made himself sound even more resonant, deep rich baritone like a pool of dark chocolate with his thick accent a river of honey cutting through it, sticky sweet and slow.

Tev stiffened. He was dressed for work, she could tell, but he'd always favored whatever the most current fad of the day was. His suit pants were of a skinny cut with a hemline that stopped at his ankle, showing an inch of sock before they disappeared into his oxfords.

Khash, by contrast, looked like his typical peacock self. An immaculately cut bespoke suit, tailored to his exact measurements, fitting his broad back and long, heavily muscled arms perfectly. He wasn't wearing a tie, but his contrasting pocket square made him look like a modern dandy, and he was looking her ex-boyfriend up and down as if he were a rodeo clown.

Tev had been obliged to tip his head back at a comical angle just to see the orc making fun of his clothes. She'd not fully appreciated just how big the love of her life was compared to the piece of trash who had broken her down for years. Tev's eyes were nearly popping out of the socket, his mouth dropping open a bit, and she knew exactly what it was he was seeing.

The thick tusks, ringed in silver and copper, the heavy jaw and strong chin, that glorious hair, twisted and braided back away from his face, swinging behind his back like a glossy black waterfall. The breadth of his shoulders like a mountain, to say nothing about his towering height. Oh yes, she knew exactly what her ex was seeing. The 7'2" of glorious Orcish prime beef she was going to spend half of her life with, who could use him as a toothpick if he were so inclined.

"Lurielle, I apologize, darlin'. I didn't mean to cut you off. I was just tickled pink as a pixie, seein' bare ankle in workwear. Son, that is a choice. Good for you being brave. Now, what were you sayin', darlin'?"

She didn't know how he knew, but he knew. He knew, and he was letting her know that he fucking knew. Her face hurt, she was smiling so hard.

"Khash, this is Tev. We went to school together."

He was nothing if not perfect gentlemen and, all southern hospitality and manners, all the time. "Well, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Anyone who is a friend of my Lurielle is a friend to me, your brave sartorial choices notwithstanding."

"Oh, I wasn't just her friend," Tev put in quickly, his lips curling back. "I was —"

"Darling, what was the name of that li'l pencilneck boyfriend of yours in school? Maybe Kev here can tell me some tales."

She loved him. She loved him more than it was possible to love a person. And she was going to fuck him stupid the second they got home.

Junie took that moment to let off a volley of furious barking, straining at her collar, lunging at Tev with her little fangs bared, her lip curling up to show her teeth.

"I was just saying we need to get going. Take care," she directed at Tev, turning away resolutely, refusing to look back. She didn't know if the two men exchanged any other words, and she was halfway down the block before Khash caught up to her again.

"Bluebell, you're off faster than green grass through a goose. You're tryin' to have me huffin'."

She spun around, her eyes sparkling. "I know you don't know what you just did, but just know that I love you for it. Like so, so much."

Khash rolled his eyes, scoffing. "Like I don't know what I just did. Lurielle, I don't know what you think you're talking about. Now, I don't know who that skinny little broom handle was, but let me tell you what we know how to do in the south, darlin'. We know how to play a mean fiddle. We can cook you the finest Sunday lunch you'll ever have. And last, but most certainly not the least, we can insult you with a smile. I don't know who he was and I don't need to know. All I need to know is that man had you riled like a moth in a mitten. I am a gentleman, Lurielle. Now, if someone ever hurts you or dishonors you, I'll kick their ass into next week looking both ways for Sunday. But insults and gossip are my culture, Bluebell. Let's get on the same page, shall we? We need to get home so my good girl Lilypiddles can get her snack. She might be a yankee by blood, but she's southern in her soul, because that timing was immaculate."

By the time they arrived home, her sides were sore from laughing, which she did for the following three blocks, but it didn't matter.

"We're getting married," she announced to her reflection of the bronzed door, waiting for the elevator in the Templeton, bouncing on her toes. "We're getting married!"

"Yes we are, darlin'. Twice."

"Fuck that asshole," she added emphatically, ignoring the concerned look from the barber, standing near his door in the lobby, a short distance away. "Fuck you, Tev."

She felt as if she could fly away, as if she could climb the mountain, at the she could fuck the giant orc behind her with nothing more than her enthusiasm. The elevator doors slid open. "And fuck Grayson Hemming!"

"Oh, fuck that guy," the woman in the elevator agreed. "Fuck him all the way off."

It was her fitting room friend, Vanessa, the shifter who lived somewhere in the building with her fiancé.

"We're getting married!" Lurielle exclaimed, positively giddy. "And you are too!"

Vanessa was still laughing as she stepped through the door. "Did you plan the wedding of your dreams?"

Lurielle thought she was going to combust as Khash passed her, stepping into the car, his big hand swinging back to hold the door. "We did. Did you?"

"Oh, it's going to be quite a party. I'm so happy for both of us."

"Me too!"

The doors had barely closed behind them when her hand dropped to the bulge at the front of his perfectly tailored pants.

"Bluebell," Khash said warningly. "You remember what I told you about writing checks, don't you?"

Lurielle rolled her eyes. She dragged her nails over the shape of him, squeezing down his shaft, rubbing her palm against the meat of him. "I don't know why you have such a hardon for checks all of a sudden. I'm trying to get you hard for things other than sensible banking."

"Oh, and it's working. You made me practically run a marathon, defend your honor, and now you're trying to get me all pumped up in public. I hope you're ready to get on your knees, soon as we cross that threshold."

He grunted when she squeezed a bit harder. He was hard now, a rod of Orcish steel, tenting the front of his bespoke suit pants. "Do you feel like coming in the middle of the day again? Because I don't really want to get on my knees. I'd much rather you get on your back and let me butter this big old biscuit."

Khash laughed, a deep scrape of a sound, groaning again when she turned around, pressing against him. Their height difference meant his erection was grinding into her back, but she felt she was making a point all the same.

"Bluebell, I don't know what's gotten into you. If seeing your old school chums is going to light a fire under you like this, I think it's time we find a reunion. I hope you're ready to take care of all this jelly, because you've already got me ready to gush like a geyser."

She took care of the dogs while he stripped out of his clothes, insisting on hanging up his suit properly. She heard the water running in the master bathroom, the shower come on briefly, heard music starting from the bedroom, low and bluesy. She was already halfway undressed by the time she crossed the living room.

"You'd better not be starting without me," she called, stopping short in the bedroom doorway, almost collapsing in laughter once more. He was flat on his back, heels pressed against the end of the bed with his legs open wide, already oiled up and ready for her. Beside him, the goblin model was loaded into her wearable strap. He was stroking his cock, flush to his belly, tapping the tip so that she could see the pre-cum he was already oozing.

"Bluebell, I hope that peach can cash this check."

"Oh, those biscuits are getting butter and jelly," she laughed, crossing the room quickly, hopping from foot to foot as she shimmied into the strap-on.

Lurielle wasted no time. The head of the goblin model sunk into him as she pressed her palms against his thighs. He was holding his own legs up, hands under his knees, making it easy for her. His cock was already leaking, already set to explode.

"Hold on, Bluebell. You forgot the most important part, darlin'."

The bullet vibrator sat in a pouch inside the panty, nestled directly against her clit. On every thrust into him, it pushed against her, pulling back on her downstroke. It was a delicious torture, and an incentive to get moving.

She would never tire of this, either. Seeing him this way, splayed out for her, blood making his face hot. Khash grunted as she sunk in fully, and her eyes rolled back at that perfect vibration.

"Lurielle, I don't think either of us are going to last long."

He was right. She leaned forward, finding her rhythm. She was better at this than she used to be. Now, she knew how deep she needed to press to batter his prostate, knew how fast she needed to move to get his motor humming fully. She liked to tease him by withdrawing all the way out and then plunging back in fully, but she knew that wasn't the way to make him come. Hard, deep thrusts in rapid succession. That was the trick. The vibrator buzzed against her clit and her eyes fluttered.

"Darlin', you know how to take care of me better than anyone else in this world. If I didn't already love you so much, I would marry you just for the fuckin'."

Her rhythm faltered as she almost fell forward laughing, stabilizing herself on his thick thighs. He had begun to stroke his cock, and with her free hands, she cupped his big balls, squeezing and pulling, massaging each one as she hammered against his prostate.

"Are you going to come for me, Khash? Are you going to squeeze me tight?"

"Darling, you keep it up in —"

He never finished his empty threat. She surged forward, sliding against him, and his hips lifted, his thighs trembling. His cock spit up the first white rope of his release against his belly, thick and creamy, the second and third hitting his shoulder.

We're getting married, and everything is perfect. Lurielle closed her eyes, letting the vibrator work against her as Khash twitched and shook beneath her, not sagging to the mattress until his cock had emptied, spitting up its last bit of release the pool at the base. Lurielle wasted no time.

She had never been that girl. She almost stumbled again, kicking off the panties, hearing the dildo thump somewhere across the room. She had never been this brave, never been this forward. Because you'd never felt this sexy. She'd never been that girl, she thought, climbing onto the bed and throwing a sigh over him, settling over his face and lowering herself until his outstretched top met her pussy. But maybe now she was.

Her hips gyrated as she worked herself against his mouth, crying out when his lips closed over the plump little bundle of nerves. Her head dropped back as he licked and sucked her, idly wondering what on earth had happened to her. Just a few years ago, she would have rather crawled into a cave and expired than even contemplate sitting on a man's face. Her thighs were too big, her ass too voluminous! Her lower belly alone was enough to suffocate him.

She cried out when her thighs tightened, grinding down as she came against his mouth, hearing him gurgle. Khash never stopped licking. This is what being in love is about, Lurielle reminded herself as she gasped, feeling tremors rock through her body. Being in love and being loved. Loving him so hard that it made the reality of losing him worth all the memories they would make in the meantime. Khash groaned again as she dropped down, spent.

And if he dies, he dies.