Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

BILLIE

M y head was heavy with exhaustion—I hadn't slept well. I lay awake until the sky started to lighten with the sun's rays. I spent my second day in the kitchen, much like the first, thinking about Steve from every angle and not coming up with a solution. I shook my head and grabbed a second cup of tea that didn't remotely resemble coffee but did seem to have caffeine—or the alien equivalent of it. I was chopping different fruits and macerating others in preparation for my second cocktail lesson.

Yesterday, I successfully created two cocktails that Runa assured me orkin would like but were distinctively me. If I got another two down pat today, I would have a solid menu for when we opened—if we opened. I hadn't let my mind wander to the progress on the bar, and I wasn't about to start now. Runa would be here any moment, expecting me to have prepared all the ingredients for our cocktail lesson.

I went back to cutting fruit. Unfortunately, I was halving the same berries Steve and I had picked together, incredibly unsuccessfully. I wondered what he was doing. Was he working on the bar like he said? Or was he just as distraught as I was? I felt like my heart was in my throat as I thought about the pain I was putting him through, and either the knife slipped, or I wasn't paying attention, but I slit right through the tip of my index finger, where I'd been holding the berry.

I looked at my finger briefly as if it wasn't my own. Blood was rapidly starting to flow, but I didn't feel any pain. It all felt surreal. Without much thought, I raised my hand over my head, dropping the bloody knife on the cutting board. I walked to Runa's office in a daze, barely aware of the blood starting to trickle down my arm. I stood in Runa's doorway and quietly waited for her attention. I didn't want to interrupt. By the time she looked up from her paperwork, I had blood dripping into my armpit.

Runa jumped up with more speed than I thought she was capable of and rushed to me. "What the hell happened, girl?" She pulled my finger down and quickly wrapped it in one of the cloth napkins stacked by her office.

Oh, that made sense. Wrap it and then raise it above your head. I forgot about that part.

"Go fetch Emla and tell her to meet us in Billie's room," she snapped at a kitchen worker walking by. "Tell her to bring supplies for stitching."

The orc looked startled but took off immediately. Runa applied pressure to my finger with the cloth napkin and steered me out of the kitchen toward my room.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes. "But what about the cocktails and the bar?"

"Honey, I think it is time for you to admit that you are in no place to open a bar while you are still deciding your future." Runa wrapped one arm around my waist, keeping the hand on my finger and marched me to my bedroom at an alarming pace.

When we arrived, Emla stood at my door. She wordlessly opened it and ushered us both inside. Runa sat me in my armchair while Emla pulled up a footstool and placed her bag of supplies on the floor. She quickly laid everything out on my bedside table. I recognized everything you would need to stitch someone up, with the exception of a vial of amber-colored liquid. She pulled the stopper out with her teeth and poured about a shot's worth into the glass I kept at my bedside.

She handed it to me, and I took it with my uninjured hand. "Drink it down quick. It tastes awful."

I examined it skeptically. "What is it?"

"It will help with the pain. Do you want to feel me stitch up your finger?" she asked gruffly.

I swallowed it down immediately, feeling it burn my throat. "Emla, have you ever tried this on humans?" I sputtered.

"You are the first human to be silly enough to require stitches." She didn't even look up from my hand she was now unwrapping. "Oh, this isn't terrible. I say three to four stitches at most."

As she cleaned my finger, I realized I couldn't feel it at all. There was a part of my mind that found that terrifying, but it seemed to be smothered by whatever drug she'd given me. I watched, detached, as she sewed three neat stitches into my finger before covering it with salve and a bandage. She collected all of her supplies and placed them back in her bag.

She assessed me, now slumped in the chair, barely able to keep my eyes open. "It makes orkin a bit groggy. It looks like you may need to lie down for a while." She turned and left with a detachment that only came from years of working in medicine.

Runa helped me remove my shoes and tucked me into bed. As I drifted into a dreamless sleep, my last thought was how worried Steve would be.

I opened my eyes to find myself in the predawn quiet, much like I had the day before. It took me a minute to figure out why I'd slept in my clothes. As I strung together the previous day's events, I jumped out of bed. I told Steve I would meet him at the bar before anyone else arrived. I brushed my teeth but left my mane wild. I looked like an anxious lion, but I didn't care. I didn't want Steve to think I didn't care about our meeting today. That was the last thing I wanted. My stomach churned at the idea of him not knowing what he meant to me. As the bar came into my vision, I saw an orc—my orc— standing on a ladder, carefully hanging colorful pendants across the front of the bar.

From the outside, my bar was a vision. Everything was done. Someone had even added beautiful window boxes with flowers spilling out of them. Above the double doors hung an engraved sign, which had to have been made by Osif, that said Billie's Bar in a beautiful scrawl. I wondered if Joey helped him with the spelling. I took in the entire scene, my beautiful bar with Steve, in the early morning light, adding the final touches. I watched Steve continue to hang the pendants and realized I was holding my breath. I wanted him off the ladder.

I didn't want to startle him, so I called quietly, "Steve?"

He swung around on the ladder too quickly for my liking but didn't fall. "Oh, it's you!" He broke into a smile that nearly took up his entire face. Fuck, he was so… swoon-worthy. He quickly descended the ladder and then turned to me, still smiling. But his smile faltered as I stood there, twisting my fingers in front of me. Right. I already had his answer, and he was waiting for mine.

While I fucked around in the kitchen, Steve must have worked day and night to get my bar going. All of it. For me. Even down to the little pendants he was hanging before the day was warm. I wondered what he'd done with the inside. He wasn't just telling me he was here to stay, he was showing me. He finished our bar and our home. I was wavering back and forth about the future and he was showing me he was here, ready for right now.

Something inside me snapped. I sprinted to him, throwing myself into his open arms and wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. I buried my face in his shoulder.

"Steve," I whispered, "I've been so focused on the future I forgot to consider right now. I don't want a life without you in it, whatever future may come." My voice was choked with emotion as tears started to fill my eyes.

Steve attempted to run his fingers through my hair, instead getting them tangled in my wild curls. I leaned back, tears sliding down my cheeks, to be able to look Steve in the eye.

I expected concern or frustration, but he was still smiling. "Billie," he said, his deep voice gentle, "I know the idea of forever scares you, but we have the rest of our lives to figure it out. You are all that I want."

I nodded, still crying, and pulled myself in for a sloppy, wet kiss. We clung to each other for a moment. I kissed from his lips down his neck, savoring his scent. I was home.

STEVE

I loosened my grip on Billie, allowing her to slide down me and plant her feet on the ground. "Are you sure?" I was sure, but I wanted to check in one more time.

Billie nodded vigorously, shaking her beautiful wild curls as she did. "Very, very sure."

I took her hand and pulled her toward the double doors of her bar—or maybe now it was our bar? "Do you want to see inside?" I asked, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice.

"You finished the inside, too?" she squeaked as I pulled her along.

"Of course, I finished the inside, too! What would be the point of working on this for all hours of the night if the inside wasn't ready?" I yanked the doors open and ushered Billie inside.

The inside of the bar was pristine. The brand-new windows let in an abundance of sunshine, and all of the wooden surfaces gleamed in the early morning light. Piper had handled all of the soft furnishings, ensuring that each window had curtains and a padded bench in front of it. I'd arranged all the glassware and alcohol behind the bar. Joey and Osif had written the menu above it—one in English and one in Orkin—since our mysterious ability to understand each other didn't seem to extend to the written word. After taking it all in, I wanted Billie's response. This would be our last time alone here for a while.

She stood there, still clinging to my hand, smiling, with tears streaming down her face. "Steve, how did you finish it all?" she asked in wonder, still gazing around the bar.

"Hard work. And help from the tribe. We owe a huge thanks to Osif, Joey, Piper, and Reykr. And Berit and Tyr, actually. But I think they were mostly trying to make up for kidnapping you." I grinned ruefully. "But it was worth it. Worth it for my mate. Worth it for you."

Billie's already watering eyes got even wider. "Mate, my mate," she whispered.

"Upstairs is all done too, if you want to—" I cleared my voice meaningfully—" see it before everyone arrives?"

Billie wordlessly raced to the stairs, pulling her tunic off as she went. I didn't hesitate to follow, quickly removing my own tunic. I marveled at the curve of her ass as I chased her up the stairs. This was our life.