5. Angie
5
ANGIE
I was crushing on a gargoyle and there didn't seem to be anything I could do about it. Actually, I didn't want to do anything about it.
Did gargoyles date humans? Orcs did, as evidenced by Bailey and Katar. An ogre was living with a human woman a few doors down from my house, and they were planning to get married. Yetis were regularly hooking up with minotaurs since they both enjoyed running in the woods.
But I hadn't heard anything about a gargoyle choosing to be with a human.
My smile faded.
Seeing my humor chilling off as fast as me inside this room, Tuvid lifted the keg and started banging on the door again.
I perched my butt on the edge of a metal table nearby, the chill of it sinking into my bones much too fast. I wasn't dressed for winter. This would teach me to leave coats, hats, and mittens inside the room, a problem I'd rectify once we got out. I'd also add a keypad to unlock the door from the inside, something my uncle mentioned before he died. Between stepping up to run the business while he was sick, plus bringing him to his treatments and make sure he had plenty of easy meals in his fridge, I'd let things like that slide.
When I wrapped my arms around my body and a shiver tracked through me, Tuvid dropped the keg onto the floor again.
"You're cold."
"Yeah, we need to turn up the heat." My wry laugh burst out. "Unfortunately, the thermostat is outside the room, beside the touchpad controlling the lock."
"You'd ruin all this beer if you do something like that."
"It beats freezing to death inside the chiller."
He came over to stand in front of me. Man, was he tall. I had to crook my head back to look up at him.
"I'm five-nine," I said.
"I noticed you were petite."
My laugh jumped out of me again, though it sounded a bit too jittery. "Five-nine is considered tall for a woman."
"Not for a gargoyle."
"How tall are female gargoyles?"
He shrugged. "About my height."
"You don't have short gargoyles? Humans come in all sizes."
"I noticed that. I like your size. Your shape." His gaze slid down my front. "Gargoyle females don't have breasts. "
"Ours are for nursing our young."
"Gargoyle females nurse their young through tubes that project from their chest after they deliver a youngling gargoyle."
"I'll have to look that up online."
"I doubt you'll find any pictures."
"You're probably right," I said. "I've never felt petite before, so I appreciate you mentioning that. I was tall for my age from the time I was a toddler. In elementary school, they used to line us up for gym class, and I was always placed at the end. When I got to high school, they stopped lining us up, but I was already scrunching my shoulders, trying to look smaller."
"You? You're a tiny thing."
"I'm curvy." A tad too curvy but there was no need to point that out. Most of the time, I liked my shape. I worked hard in my gardens and here at the brewery, and my body did whatever I needed it to do. There were lots of guys who enjoyed a woman with something to grab onto.
I just hadn't met many of them yet.
" Very curvy," he said. "And very cold."
"I'm sure we'll get out of here soon. I'll turn the heat up in my car while I'm driving home."
"Until then . . ." He took my hands and urged me away from the table. Stepping backward, he led me to the empty space of wall beside the door, where he sat, tugging me down onto his lap. "You can sit with me."
Wow, he was toasty warm from his vigorous exercise.
"We're giving up on the door," I said .
"I'll bang periodically, but it's well after six. I assume your staff have all left for the day."
"I'm sure you're right."
He tucked me here and there until my thighs straddled his hips. His wings wrapped around me, and heat poured off them as well. I wouldn't think a membrane could be warm, but it was.
I placed my palms on his chest. "Your heat's radiating through your t-shirt."
His smile grew. "Can you feel my heart beating as well? It's racing around in my chest."
"Why?" My tingling skin gave me all sorts of suggestions for why, but I wanted him to name it.
"Because I'm holding you, Angie. You."
I gulped and struggled not to cry. Flapping my hand at my face didn't help.
He tipped sideways to peer around me. "You lost your tissues."
I fumbled through my skirt pockets. "I've got some here somewhere."
Leaning forward, he reached around to his back and a sharp ripping sound rang out.
"What are you doing?" I asked, sniffing back my tears. Truly, I wished I could control my body's response to emotions, but if I hadn't figured that out by now and with me being twenty-eight, the odds were good I'd be sobbing whenever I saw a cute dog at the park when I was ninety.
He grabbed the fabric at his shoulders and tugged it up and over his head.
I gaped at his amazingly bare, muscular chest and snapped my hands up into the air. "I won't touch. "
"What if I want you to touch?"
"Do you?"
"Since I met you?" He watched my face, a lazy grin tilting his lips up in a very attractive way. "All the time."
While I guppy breathed and tried to think of a witty response to such an adorable statement, he handed me his shirt. "Use this to wipe your tears."
It was hard not to admire a guy who'd remove his clothing for you to use when you ran out of tissues.
Curiosity about his shirt provided a wonderful distraction and my tears dried up. No need to blot them with his t-shirt yet. I turned it this way and that, noting the Velcro running along the back hem.
"It's custom made so I can easily remove it." He poked the long slices running down the back, sewn on each side to keep the material from unraveling. "I can't wear human shirts with my wings. Fortunately, everyone's jumping on the monster trend and is offering clothing that works well with our various bodies."
"I wonder what centaurs wear." I hadn't met any yet, though I'd heard a family had recently moved to town.
He leaned close to whisper by my ear. "It's a secret."
"They must want to cover certain . . . body parts when they're trotting down Main Street."
"I'm sure they do. But when they're not in town, they dress much like gargoyles."
"In clothing with quick release Velcro seams?"
His smile widened, becoming rather devilish. "We usually don't wear much more than a loincloth."
Because I was overheating, I fanned my face again .
"Are you hot?" he asked, loosening his wings still wrapped around me.
"Nope, still chilly."
His arms tightened around me again. "I'll keep you warm."
"What if we're stuck here all night?"
"Then you'll have to mate with me to protect my reputation."
My laugh burst out. "Good one."
He nodded, his smile coming easy. "Would it horrify you to mate with a gargoyle?"
"Are you offering?"
"What if I was?"
"I'd tell you that I barely know you, that I'd need more time before I decided about something like that."
"You're not turned off by my blue skin."
Turned on was more like it. "Not at all."
"My wings. My tail. My fangs?"
I frowned at his mouth. "What do you bite with them?"
"Apples. Sandwiches. The same things as humans."
I tapped his chest then spread my palms across his bare skin to suck in his heat. Who needed handwarmers when they could snuggle against Tuvid? "You know what I mean."
"Long ago, gargoyles used their fangs to mark their mates."
"What about now?" Why couldn't I drag my gaze away from his mouth?
"It's rare for gargoyles to find their fated mate so marking is equally rare. "
"That's not really an answer."
"If a gargoyle found their fated one, then yes, it's common for each to bite and mark the other."
"Wouldn't the prick holes heal and negate the effect?" I asked.
"When it's done during mating, the marks remain after they heal, and they have a faint silvery glow."
"That must look amazing against your dark blue skin." I tried to imagine what it would be like for a male to bite me during sex. Would it hurt, or would I find it sexy? "Do gargoyles bite their fated mates on the neck like vampires?"
"Sometimes. Or in a more intimate area."
Heat tightened in my belly before loosening to slide downward. I fidgeted on his lap, my arousal making me restless.
He tilted my chin, making me look up at him. "Have you ever kissed a gargoyle?"
"That's an interesting question." And why ask it now?
"And that's not an answer."
"You're the only gargoyle I know well enough to kiss, and we have not—as of yet—locked lips."
"Is that an invitation, sweet one?"
The endearment sunk into my bones and made them melt. "If I said yes, what would you do?"
"This."
His mouth claimed mine in a kiss that seared through me.