Chapter 10

Ella

To say I'm confused is an understatement.

What happened last night was…unexpected. If Rhokar thought that I could just get on with my life as if nothing had happened, after pulling a stunt like what nearly happened in front of his car, then he might have overestimated my ability for the first time in his life.

We'd ended up having such a good time over dinner, and I'd felt this hope, this bright, happy warmth blossoming within me at the turn of events. We were talking. We were laughing. We were flirting . It was everything I'd secretly wished for in that first split second I'd seen his face appear before me behind those elevator doors, despite my stubborn claims otherwise. The father of my children, the man I'd regretted running away from even before I'd realized I was pregnant, Rhokar… was having dinner with me. And we weren't fighting. We were having a good time.

Of course, he had to go and get grumpy again out of nowhere. But then he'd apologized for the way he had been acting with me, and I'd very nearly handed him my heart right then and there.

I've been avoiding telling him about the twins out of fear of his reaction. I know eventually I have to do it, since this is a small town and news of my half-orc babies would travel fast once they finally arrive. The chances of him putting two and two together are high, and anyway, I don't think it's fair to keep his children from him. That isn't my goal. I want

my babies to have their daddy in their lives if that's possible.

It's just that he'd been so snappy with me, so unpleasant and distant, that it was hard to imagine the right way of going about it.

But last night made me reconsider the idea that Rhokar hates me, that he might reject any children associated with me.

He'd been so sincere. So awkward and sweet.

He made me want to try again. Which was a shocking thought for me, considering I'd stopped trying since Peter divorced me eight years ago.

Feeling the desire

to try come to life inside me again, I realize now, that I'd given up. I wasn't being practical all this time, I wasn't being pragmatic or realistic by avoiding relationships. I was giving up.

And then he'd almost kissed me. That almost-kiss was hotter than most actual kisses I've experienced in my life.

I fan myself briefly at the flush the memory brings to my cheeks, flipping open my laptop and trying to look normal as I sit at a booth in The Golden Griffin and wait for my dinner.

The way his hand had slipped into my hair. The slow, predatory way he'd walked into me, controlling my body until I hit the cool metal of his car, trapped and, frankly, without a single thought of escape on my mind. He'd set me on fire last night in those brief seconds. My body craved to feel him again, my lady bits immediately recognizing his touch and flickering to life so fast it shocked me.

God, the gentle way his callused thumb caressed my bottom lip…I'd been about half a second away from leaning forward to capture his skin between my teeth and sucking on his thumb like some sort of woman in heat. Something had come over me so completely, almost as if an external force was tugging my heart towards him, and I wish with all my might it had tugged harder.

My body was coming to life before me with a strength I'd thought was long faded, and then…nothing. He'd stopped.

Why had he pulled away? Why did he suddenly jump from me like I'd tasered him?

And then today, he didn't even show up at work, apparently, he was at some sort of meeting. Was he avoiding me? Did he regret what he'd almost done, that much? And what would that mean for my children, if Rhokar was the type of man to jump in and out of people's lives like that? Would it be safe to bring him into their lives if he was just going to leave again?

I stifle a groan and drop my elbows onto the table before me, squishing my cheeks between my palms and pouting as Nib appears with a glass of sparkling water and a wedge of lemon.

"Oh, hun, are you sure

you don't want a glass of Pinot?" she says as she places the water down. "That's your ‘woe is me' pose. Your ‘my life is complicated and I'm sad about it' pose. Your—"

"Alright, alright." I wave my hand as if I'm trying to wave her words away, probably because she's hit the nail on the head. "You're right, maybe a glass would go down well right now."

"Of course it would," she says with pity in her voice and a smile forming on her lips. "You only ever come in here when your boss makes you sad and you need a drink and a shoulder to complain on, anyway. Why would today be any different, my woeful little buttercup?"

I mock-glare up at her as she sends me a wink and zips off through the air back to the bar.

My phone pings with a message from Grace, and after one last look through my emails to triple check that Gossamer Wings Daycare is the best choice for starting my babies at next week, I reply back to her message confirming that everything is set for her to bring them this Sunday, and pop my phone to the side.

I'm not even hungry, I could have easily gone straight home after work today and continued the last of the prep for my home. But Rhokar's voice kept ringing through my thoughts saying, " Eat properly, " and it was annoying and demanding and even worse, he was right. So I'd come here, because I'm still too mentally pooped to cook.

What's happening to me? Since when do I listen to a man when he tells me what to do? Even my ex-husband never had the ability. If Peter had ever told me to eat, I'd be more likely to go hungry even if I was starved that day, just to prove he couldn't boss me around.

I sigh and drop my head back against the booth seat.

Peter couldn't kiss like Rhokar, I think morosely. He certainly couldn't make me orgasm several times in one night, or grip me so tight it almost hurt, and made me feel safer than I've ever felt before…

An image of Rho's hard, naked green body kneeling over me flashes through my mind and I jerk forward to drop my cheeks into my palms again, trying to stop myself from those memories, since they only make me feel worse right now.

Peter never fed me before himself, either. Or apologized after a fight, or held doors open for me even when he was mad—he'd actually had a nasty habit of slamming them directly in my face if we were having an argument.

Rhokar did all of those things, and more. And all of this while we weren't even on friendly terms, let alone married for years.

But last night, after the car alarm, it's like he'd just changed his mind and fled.

Why hadn't he wanted to kiss me? Did I do something wrong?

When Nib flies back with my wine, she settles into the seat opposite me and hands me the glass, and I immediately take a long, soothing sip.

"So you kissed Rhokar, did you? Is that why you're moping?"

I somehow manage to keep myself from choking, settling the glass carefully on the table as I swallow.

"I don't see why that would make you sad, though," she continues in her chipper way. "That orc is a fine hunk of meat, even if he is a bit grumpy."

I settle into a half-hearted glare and don't respond, not sure that I want to talk about this and not sure that it's her nosy business, anyway. She's lucky she's so sweet and I know she doesn't have bad intentions, or else I might be inclined to bite back.

She bounces in her seat in impatience at my silence, her eyes widening in further interest. "Oh, come on, you have

to tell me! He's never interested in females, I need to know! Please?"

I purse my lips and raise my brows.

"Please, please, please? I'll buy your drink!"

My brows go up further.

"I'll buy your dinner?"

Okay, I crack at that point and sigh, although she's managed to squeeze a smile out of me, and I flip my laptop shut and shove it away. "Okay, fine. It's a deal."

"Yes!" She does a little fist of victory and leans closer. "So?"

"So, I didn't kiss Rhokar."

"Oh, what? No way! I happen to know that you were seen smooching in the car lot outside Andhrimnir's last night by — uh, an unknown, um, source that definitely does not come by here every day."

I throw my hands up. "Does nobody have any decency anymore?"

"Well, maybe you should keep your tongue activities to more private areas if you don't want the town grapevine buzzing." Nib smirks, looking completely unabashed.

"Your source was mistaken," I mutter grumpily, rubbing at my temple. "There was no kiss. Only confusion."

"What does that even mean?"

"I don't know," I sigh, reaching for my Emotional Support Wine. "I don't know…"

The playful look in Nibs lilac eyes fades as she watches me, and her enthusiasm for gossip seems to mute. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," she says slowly, concern now pulling at her brows. "Do you not want to talk about it?"

I snort at that, smiling even as I shake my head. "There's nothing to talk about."

She leans over and pats my forearm, and somehow it actually does feel comforting instead of condescending. "Don't worry, cutie. You'll get him in the end. You're clearly confident and smoking hot, I don't think you'd be afraid to make the first move if the situation ever came up." Then she leans back. "Unless you don't want him. Then, he'll come crawling to you, but you'll already have moved on to bigger, better and brawnier. The guys are always greener on the other side, am I right?"

I roll my eyes and chuckle, shooing her back and reaching for my laptop again. "Go on then, twinkle toes, don't you have a bar you need to be running?"

She zips into the air with a giggle, and despite the confusing muddle my brain is in, I find myself feeling a little better.

Make the first move, huh?

I play the idea through my thoughts as dinner arrives. I find myself wondering what really would happen if I just ripped my shirt off in front of him, as Grace suggested.

It'd be a way to get the conversation started, at least.