Chapter 12

12

THORAK

M y taproom buzzes with electricity as I survey the staff preparing for a big night. We usually do decent business on Wednesday nights, but I'm hoping that tonight's crowd mimics a weekend. We need that kind of energy if I'm going to impress Robert.

Beside me, Gruna zips between the tables, issuing rapid-fire instructions. "Double check those glasses, Blonk! And Asha, we need more ale on tap, stat!" She wants this deal to go through as badly as I do.

Gruna could've easily taken over our parents' business instead of me when I ventured out on my own. They would've handed it to her. But instead, she showed up at Orc Anvil's door one day, a bag of specialty hops slung over her shoulders.

"Where you go, I go, brother," she told me, assertively pushing past me into the brewery. That was the end of the discussion for her. We've always been the closest of the siblings. We're only a year apart in age and our parents practically treated us like twins. Now, the business is as much her baby as it is mine.

And I feel awful about the anxiety I know I'm causing her.

As the teams scramble to complete final preparations, Gruna tugs me aside, brow furrowed with concern.

"Are you sure about this, brother?" Her voice is low and urgent. "This ruse you and Mariah are attempting with the distributor...it's really risky."

My chest tightens and I run a hand through my short hair. Gruna's right, of course—she usually is. But what choice do I have?

Especially now that things have gotten this far. We're so close to having the deal done, I think. And, honestly, I like having an excuse to be near Mariah for as long as possible…

"I know, Gruna," I rumble, hoping my voice doesn't betray the heat pulsing through my veins at just the thought of Mariah. "But Robert's nearly there. We can't back out now."

Gruna sighs. "Okay. I'll trust that you know what you're doing. How else can I help tonight, now that we're almost ready?"

I clasp Gruna's shoulder. "I need you to keep Ma and Da away tonight, Gruna. Can you do that for me? Please?" Even though they're disappointed that I'm not working for them, my parents like to pop by the taproom every so often. We've never discussed it, but I think it's their roundabout way of being supportive without actually saying that they support my decision.

Gruna hesitates, conflicting loyalties warring in her expression. Even though she works with me, she's closer to our parents than I am. And she knows Ma and Da would be upset by the Mariah relationship.

A familiar knot of frustration twists in my gut. For all my parents' many strengths, their distrust of humans is deep and unshakeable. It's why my father has never once considered expanding his own brewing conglomerate into the human lands, despite the potential.

After a long beat, Gruna nods, her features softening with a sigh. "I'll do my best, Thorak. But please, be careful. I don't want to lose this deal. And…I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I will." The words rasp in my throat. "I promise."

Gruna darts off to head out to our parents' place, and the evening quickly unfolds in a blur of activity. The taproom fills up with a boisterous mix of orcs, elves, dwarves, witches, fae folk and more, all eager to sample my latest brews.

I work the bar with quick, efficient movements, pouring pints and trading friendly barbs with the regulars.

"Quite a crowd tonight, eh?" Finnian sidles up to me as I finish pulling a pint of my newest IPA. He flashes his trademark grin at a cluster of giggling pixies, their iridescent wings casting shimmering reflections in their glasses. "I spread the word far and wide—figured we should show this Robert fellow just how beloved Orc's Anvil is among the locals."

Warmth floods my chest, and I clap Finn on the shoulder. "I owe you one, man. Seriously. Thank you."

"Psh, think nothing of it." He winks at one of the pixies and she practically swoons. "What are friends for, if not to engage in a bit of light subterfuge now and again?"

I chuckle, shaking my head. As I turn to greet the next customer, my gaze can't help but stray to the front entrance every few moments, my heartrate kicking up a notch.

Waiting. Anticipating.

Aching for the moment a certain alluring human innkeeper walks through that door.

Finn's words replay in my mind. Light subterfuge, that's all this is. But when Mariah is near—her presence like a live current arcing between us, every accidental brush of our hands sending heat licking through my veins—it seems like so much more.

It feels real. Powerful. Inevitable.

The door swings open and Mariah glides in, a vision in emerald green, with Robert at her side.

Holy hell, she's a knockout. I've never seen her wearing something so obviously sexy. The dress clings to every dip and curve of her body like it was painted on. The deep V neckline plunges dangerously low, revealing the swell of her perfect breasts.

I swallow hard, my pants suddenly way too tight.

Her chestnut hair tumbles past her shoulders in glossy waves I'm dying to run my fingers through. She's done something different with her makeup tonight—her cat-like eyes are smoky and seductive, her lips a glistening, kissable pink.

What I wouldn't give to grab her, crush my mouth to hers, trail my tongue along that graceful neck, slip my hands under that sinful dress and...

I wrench my gaze away, clenching my fists. Gods. I've got it so bad.

"Hey, babe," Mariah says cheerily as she and Robert approach the bar. She leans over the bar and gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek.

Lust ignites in my gut. It takes all my willpower to not grab her by the waist, pull her over the wood countertop, and show her exactly what she does to me.

I swallow hard. It's not great to be hiding a boner behind the bar like a horny teenager, especially with my potential distributor a foot away.

"Thorak," Robert says, shaking my hand.

Think about Robert, think about Robert, I tell myself. Robert doing belly flops into the fountain in town square. Robert going to a magical salon and having his hair turned a rainbow color.

I loosen a breath. That helps.

"I must say, Thorak, you've got quite the crowd here tonight," Robert continues. "And the energy is fantastic."

Pride swells in my chest as I follow his gaze. He's right—the place is absolutely buzzing. Laughter and animated chatter fill the air, punctuated by the clink of glasses and appreciative murmurs as folks sample my latest creations.

"Thanks, Robert. We've worked hard to make Orc's Anvil a welcoming spot for everyone in Elderberry Falls. Guess it's paying off." I flash him a grin, hoping it comes across as confident and not betraying the nerves jangling beneath my skin.

Mariah sits down at a seat at the bar, pulling the chair out next to her for Robert. The light, floral scent of her perfume wafts over me, making my head spin yet again.

"Pour us some samples, love?" she says, her tone light and playful.

Fuck, back to being stiffer than actual wood.

As the night wears on, Mariah stays close, her gentle touches and adoring glances never straying far from Robert's view. She laughs at all my jokes, even the ones that earn me groans from Finn. Her hand keeps finding its way to my arm, my shoulder, the small of my back.

Each casual caress sets my skin on fire.

I know we're just playing a part, but damn if Mariah isn't a fantastic actress. The way she gazes up at me through lowered lashes. The husky timbre of her voice when she leans in close to whisper in my ear. The enticing sway of her hips, barely concealed by that unholy dress.

If we were really together, I'd shut the bar down for the night and fuck her on every surface, giving her orgasm after orgasm until she couldn't see straight.

I'm so lost in the fantasy that I don't even notice the door swinging open.

Not until I hear my mother's tentative voice saying, "Thorak?"

My head jerks up and my heart free-falls straight to the floor.

Standing in the entrance, wearing near-identical expressions of stony disapproval, are my parents.