Chapter 2

Ashlyn

My audiobook was just getting to the good part as the driver pulled up in front of a cute little square with a small fountain surrounded by quaint old houses. When I'd arrived at the ferry dock, I found most other passengers were climbing into golfcarts, but Cinders, Inc. had arranged for a driver for me, at least to the bed-and-breakfast.

This place was tiny; I didn't need any more help.

I didn't bother pausing my gargoyle sex—according to the author I was listening to, being able to turn parts of their body to stone had distinct advantages—as I sent the driver a little smile and climbed out. I grabbed my briefcase with the files on the real estate deal, and the other hefted my hard-sided carry-on bag.

I was halfway across the square when I paused to glance around. Okay, that building had bistro tables on the wraparound porch, so it was probably a restaurant, and that one had a bunch of pictures of scissors and fingernails, so it was probably a salon.

I can read, I just don't like to.

The last building, the largest, had a big hand-painted sign out front and a gorgeous climbing rose vine, although the flowers weren't blooming. That had to be The Rose Inn.

I'd just put my foot on the bottom step when the door opened, and someone backed out of the building. He was tall— really tall—and talking to someone inside.

"Alright, hon, just keep me posted, okay?" He made cheesy finger guns, which managed not to be too cheesy from this angle. "I'll owe you big time."

I hefted my bag and began to climb the steps slowly, moving to one side so I wasn't directly behind him. Whoever was in the bed-and-breakfast must've said something because the man laughed in response.

It was a genuine laugh. As in, he tossed his head back and really allowed his joy to show.

And I stopped still, one foot on the porch, one on the top step.

I knew that laugh.

That laugh, coupled with the fact that, from this angle, I could see the side of his face, clicked .

Thebes. Oh my gosh, that's Thebes !

I didn't know his last name—I didn't know if he had a last name! But his was one of the only non-recipe or non-crafty channels I followed on social media, because…well, look at him!

I had never thought of myself as being attracted to orcs, or any of the other monsters who'd stepped into the human world in the last decade. But the first time I'd seen one of his videos—I think he'd been modeling jeans?—I'd been floored .

The guy was gorgeous.

And although I know most of these influencer celebrities were all fake, the videos he made where he wasn't shilling some clothing line, the videos where he just sat and talked to the camera about his day…those felt so genuine. That's how I recognized his laugh.

After six months of obsessing over him, I'd made a very special purchase from a particular online store that claimed to have anatomically accurate toys for sale, and that big green baby was now my favorite.

Slowly, I lifted my hand to my ear, pulling my earbuds out one after the other and jamming them into my pocket, because I sure as heck wasn't listening to my audiobook anymore.

What is Thebes doing in Eastshore ?

I'd done some Googling on my flight from Chicago, and I'd read a few articles about how orcs—and others—were gathering here on Eastshore, as a sort of oasis, or place to belong. Had he been here this whole time, or was he one of the new immigrants?

All this flashed through my mind in the moments between his laughter and his last wave.

"Thanks again, Megan," he called with a wave. "You have my number—use it, hon!"

Still intent on the person at the counter—what information did he need from Megan?—he clearly wasn't paying attention when he turned toward me.

And me, still being frozen in shock, didn't think to move.

Thus, Thebes—international celebrity and model—was in very real danger of running smack into me.

My still-conscious brain grabbed control of my legs at the last moment and jerked them backwards, trying to save the male from crashing into me. Unfortunately, this only worked halfway, and I stumbled.

As I swung my arms up to catch my balance, he registered what was happening and darted forward, reaching for me.

Luckily, he grabbed my briefcase-holding wrist and yanked me toward him.

Unluckily, the suitcase from my other hand spun over my head to crash open on the sidewalk behind me.

Luckily—again—I was now smooshed up against the most delicious chest I could imagine. In my months of fantasizing about him, I would've never imagined the cedar-and-cinnamon scent of his Henley shirt, and the comforting warmth I felt when his fingers spread across my back.

"Whoa, I'm sorry," he was saying, helping me regain my balance and stepping back. "Are you okay? I should've been more careful, I'm so sorry."

To say I was dazed would be an understatement. "No, I'm…" I lifted my hand to pat my cheek, realized I looked like a nincompoop, and turned the move into tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "It was my fault."

"Not in any way." He smiled, and oh Lord when Thebes smiled, he smiled . His dark eyes twinkled, and his tusks should not have been sexy, but somehow, they were. "You're sure you're alright? I didn't bang you too hard?"

Aaaaand now I was blushing at the thought of him banging me.

Or maybe it was because I was already missing his touch. "I'm okay," I insisted, more for myself than him.

But then he looked over my shoulder and winced. "Crap, another reason to apologize."

Before I could ask him what he meant, he was hustling down the steps, and I turned to see my luggage had exploded.

And I do mean exploded.

My panties were everywhere.

And as I watched, this gorgeous orc that I'd secretly been crushing on squatted down and began to gather them up.

"I got it! Don't worry about it!" I yelled, too shrilly, as I threw myself down on the sidewalk beside him, scooping up my strewn clothing. "No biggie!"

But he was smiling when he handed me a pair of my black silk undies. "No biggie indeed. We can be adults about this. Oh, here's another one."

Oh God, he'd seen my panties. He'd touched my panties.

Surely, I'm not the only one who packs for a trip as if I'm planning on wearing three pairs of undies a day? I mean, just in case I have uncontrolled diarrhea or discharge or something? A six-day trip: Two pairs of black pants—with pockets—five nice blouses, a pair of jeans, two T-shirts, jammies, two-piece swimsuit, my flip-flops, a sundress, and cozy shrug. And forty-five pairs of underpants, just in case.

Anyhow, they were currently spread across the sidewalk in front of The Rose Inn like a colorful rainbow, and this hot guy was helping me pick them all up.

That should have been the most embarrassing part of the day, right?

Wrong.

Because Thebes scooped up a pile of clothing, revealing that my toiletries bag had also taken a tumble. And there, right on top of the jumble of shaving lotion and toothpaste, was my Big Green Friend.

The dildo I'd purchased because it was supposed to be shaped like an orc's you-know-what .

And on more than one occasion, I'd pictured this particular orc's you-know-what while using it.

What could I say? I'm a sucker for laugh lines.

Was it my imagination, or did his nostrils flare as he reached for it? Oh my gosh , how embarrassing! I went to snatch it up, but he was quicker. He turned the thing over in his hands, staring down at it, while my cheeks heated to the point of nuclear fusion.

"Thanks!" I blurted, trying for nonchalance and failing entirely as I snatched it out of his hand. "I always bring my own rolling pin on vacation, don't you? I never can trust the baking implements in strange places!" I was blathering overly loud as I shoved everything back into the suitcase, then slammed it shut. "And a gal is partial to her own rolling pin, you know?" I snapped the suitcase closed, then rocked back on my heels. "Well, thank you for your help, I'd better go check in!"

He slid his hand around my elbow, helping me stand, and a part of me wanted to wrench free, run inside, and bury my head under my pillow…while a bigger part of me wanted to lean into his touch and inhale .

Oh God oh God oh God you called your orc dildo a rolling pin . He's not going to fall for that, is he?

Maybe? "You're checking in here?" he was saying. "This is one of the best places in town, I know you'll enjoy it."

"It's one of the only places in town," I corrected with an awkward smile. Once I finalized my stepfather's sale, a hotel would stand here, and that would mean more options to stay. "Well…thanks again."

He seemed to shake himself. "And I'm sorry, once again." He offered his hand. "I'm Thebes."

Swallowing, I shook his hand, unable to resist the temptation of his touch. A warmth, a zing , moved up my arm. Must've been from touching a celebrity. "I'm Ashlyn. "

His mouth dropped open as his eyes widened in shock. For the first time, I saw his charming expression fade as he gaped at me. "Ashlyn Anderson? Holy crap, what are the odds?"

Odds? I wondered if I should tug my hand away and make a run for it. Was he far less charming than he'd appeared on social media?

But he was still explaining. "I just mean, I've been waiting for you!"

"For me ?"

"Yeah, that's why I was here!" He hadn't released my hand. In fact, he stepped closer , so I had to tip my head back to hold his gaze. "I'm Thebes."

I licked my lips. "I know."

"Yeah. Yeah, of course you do. I said that." His gaze had dropped to my mouth. "I'm making a mess of this. Um…I was sort of assigned to you. By the town."

"The town? Eastshore Isle sent you?"

He hadn't lifted his gaze, and I resisted the urge to check to see if I had spinach stuck in my teeth. I hadn't eaten spinach in weeks. "Eastshore is a small town. Nice and cozy. Its…um, its citizens are worried you wouldn't get the chance to fully appreciate it. So I was volunteered—I mean, I offered to show you around."

Ooookay. Gorgeous male or not, this was getting a little weird. I tugged my hand out of his. "Thank you, but that's not necessary. I didn't come to Eastshore to look around, I'm here for business."

To my surprise, Thebes looked even more awkward now. He ran his palms down the outside of his jeans—I was not going to take a moment to admire how nicely they fit his butt, not right now—and offered a smile and a shrug. "I know. I mean, that's cool. But if you're here for six days, you might as well look around, right? "

How'd he know I was here for six days?

"Look, Ashlyn," he blurted, "let me make this whole thing up to you. Can I take you out to dinner tonight? Just so you can really experience the best parts of Eastshore?"

I was already shaking my head. "Make up for what whole thing? There's nothing to make up for." My hand tightened around the briefcase's handle, as if trying to remind me why I was here.

"Sure there is!" He was looking more confident now. "I almost ran you over, then I grabbed you without permission. Then the whole sexy black panties thing."

He nodded at my now-closed suitcase by my knee, but I was busy gaping at him.

He thought my panties were sexy?

At least he didn't mention the dildo. If he did, you would've died on the spot, which would be awkward to explain to Dad.

This was true.

Dear sir, we regret to inform you that your rather useless stepdaughter has perished in the course of her duties in a dildo-related incident.

I would die all over again.

"Please Ashlyn?" His voice had turned all soft. He used this tone when he was talking to the camera about his day, or his latest photography project, and he always sounded as if he was talking right to me . "You have to eat dinner anyhow, right? Let me take you to Pastabilities." He jerked his chin sideways without looking away from me. "It's right across the street, and their bolognaise is to die for."

Oh.

Oh, he wasn't playing fair.

He was bringing pasta into this?

My stomach rumbled at the thought, and his expression lit up once more.

"I'm not going to make you feel like you have to, Ashlyn, but Eastshore is a wonderful town, and I would love to show you around—"

"Six-thirty," I blurted, and until the words were out of my mouth, I hadn't even realized I was going to say them.

His grin bloomed, and I was struck by the thought that this male could likely get anything he wanted with that smile.

"That's great, Ashlyn! Thank you!" He was already backing away, bouncing a little in those designer shoes of his. "I'll pick you up at six-thirty."

Pick me up. As if it was a real date.

It wasn't until I'd scooped up the suitcase and turned that it struck me: It was a date. I had a date.

A date with Thebes .