With a sigh, I drop a kiss on my daughter’s head as she plays with Cavek’s long hair, twisting clumps of it into wild, sloppy braids. Beside her is a pile of rubber bands supplied by Lucy.
“You be good for Nana Lucy,” I remind her.
“Yes, Mommy,” my imp says.
Cavek turns his head and frowns at me.
“You are leaving?” There is a note of disapproval to the question that strikes me the wrong way.
“Yes, I can’t just sit around all day. I have to work so I can afford small luxuries like food, clothes, and shelter. Lucy watches her for me. I’ll be back for Boukie in a few hours,” I say as I pull my shoes back on.
A warm, textured hand wraps around my wrist, startling me, and I turn to stare into Cavek’s brilliant amethyst eyes. How did I not notice he had such vivid purple eyes? The remorse etched into his face surprises me even more.
“My apologies, Kate. I didn’t mean to imply that it is wrong of you. It just caught me by surprise. Among trolls, one parent usually stays with the children at all times. Sometimes they trade the chore if they own a business together. In cases where a mate is absent or has died, our kingdom provides for them. Since you are alone, I assumed that you were likewise taken care of in some way. Please don’t take it as criticism of you and your devotion to little Boukie.”
He’s so earnest that I can feel my heart melting, the resentment and anger long forgotten.
Gods, he is cute.
“No harm done,” I say, unable to keep the smile from my face as I rush out the door before I say or do something else that’s stupid.
Chapter 2
Kate
Large, rough hands caress my breasts and stroke down my belly as soft, full lips kiss my shoulder. With a shiver, I can feel the damp heat gathering between my legs. I’ve never been so turned on in my life. I arch my hips, begging those fingers to go just a little lower. When they finally make contact, my body sings with pleasure. There’s a strange graze of hard, curved nails every now and then which is peculiar, but I’m distracted by the wonderful things those talented fingers are doing to my body.
My lover flicks my clit, pinching it as a knuckle pushes into the wet folds. I groan and will myself to open my eyes despite the electric sensations shooting through me. I look and meet deep amethyst eyes and brilliant green skin.
Startled, I jerk away even as my body careens over the edge.
I snap forward with a yelp and sit up in bed. My heart hammers in my chest as I blink and look around me. I’m alone. There’s no seven-foot troll anywhere in my bedroom, much less sharing my bed. I flop back down onto my sweat-soaked sheets, my thighs slick with my orgasm.
It was only a dream. I don’t know if I’m disappointed or not.
I grab my phone to check the time. Five fifteen in the morning. I might as well get up, because I’m on the opening shift today.
I manage to tumble out of bed right-side up and walk across my bedroom without stubbing my toe on one of Boukie’s random toys lying on the floor or otherwise killing myself. Boukie has her own room but for some reason still insists on playing in my room as well. She’s pretty much taken over our entire apartment if I’m perfectly honest with myself.
After a fast shower and a twelve-ounce cup of coffee courtesy of my Keurig, the current love of my life, I feel somewhat human. Just in time to wake Boukie. With a second cup of coffee in my hand, I go into her room thoroughly decorated in princess pink and turn the light on. Pictures of unicorns, dragons, and all manner of creatures decorate her walls. She even has her own princess gown and tiara from Halloween. Truthfully, it looks like something vomited Barbie princess everywhere.
I reach down and give my baby’s shoulder a gentle shake.
“Wake up, Boukie-boo. Time to get ready for kindergarten.”
The little lump under the blanket scrunches up in a tight, stubborn ball.
“No,” the ball of blankets mumbles petulantly.
“Yes, come on. Mommy has to work today, so you need to get up. Let’s go. Nana Lucy will be picking you up from school, and you get to hang out with her until I get off work.”
Signs of life manifest as Boukie pulls the blanket down and squints up at me.
“I get to see Cavek?”
I frown down at my little monster’s hopeful face. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with how quickly she’s taken to the troll.
“Yes,” I say slowly. “You probably will.”
She scrambles out of bed with a squeal, pulling off her night gown as she goes. I’m mildly impressed. Okay, maybe her fascination with Cavek won’t be a bad thing after all if it gets her moving this quickly in the morning. It usually takes me twenty minutes of cajoling and damn near threatening to get her out of bed.
“Yay! Gonna see Cavek and Nana Lucy and Auntie Sammi, and all the ories,” she squeaks excitedly.
“Orcs,” I correct her as I wrangle her into a clean dress.
Fifteen minutes later, she has her hair neatly brushed and is waiting patiently for her cereal, her little feet pumping merrily under the table as she sings quietly to herself. I cut bananas on top of her cereal and raise a suspicious eyebrow at her as I set her bowl in front of her.
“Okay, who are you and what did you do with my Boukie?”
“Mommy, it’s me!”
“Can’t be,” I say playfully, making Boukie giggle harder.
“It is, it is,” she insists between giggles.
I sigh loudly. “Well, if you say so. I guess I’ll have to keep this well-behaved little girl.”
I lean down to give her a loud smacking kiss and blow a raspberry on her cheek, making her squeal.
“Eat, girl child,” I say in my dungeon master voice.
Leaving Boukie to shovel cereal in her mouth, I step back into the bathroom to finish getting ready for work. It takes little time to pull on my uniform and twist my hair into its customary braid. I finish by applying my favorite dusty rose lipstick and back away from the mirror to take a better look at myself. The pink-and-brown-striped coffee shop uniform is hideous, but I suppose I wear it well enough. I can’t help but think the entire ensemble screams ‘desperate single mom willing to work for scraps.’
I grimace. Normally I don’t care that I make just above minimum wage slinging coffees for strangers. I make enough to cover basic bills for our little apartment and if I hustle, I can make enough in tips to afford a few indulgences. No, the problem is that last week was my twenty-ninth birthday. I’m almost thirty and no closer to doing anything I’m passionate about.
It has been suggested more than once that I take out student loans and go back to school, but for what? To find a “practical career” so that I can be in debt up to my eyebrows and still feel unsatisfied? Not that I know what I want to do. Everything has revolved around raising my baby and struggling to get by as a single parent for so long that I’m not sure exactly what I feel passionate about anymore.
What do I want?
An unbidden image of Cavek rises in my mind’s eye. I shake my head. Yeah, that doesn’t exactly help my situation any. It’s hard enough finding a great guy who wants an instant family. Every time I get with a guy who has his shit together, he takes one look at Boukie and runs the other way. Somehow, I can’t imagine a troll is going to be any more interested in raising another’s child.
With ruthless determination, I push aside my fascination with Cavek. I can’t allow myself to dwell on a guy out of my reach, and one that I’m not entirely convinced would be good for Boukie in the long run. At best, he and I can probably have some fun and then say goodbye when he leaves with Orgath and Sammi.
Straightening the hem on my shirt, I emerge from the bathroom and am greeted by my smiling little imp already wearing her jacket and sneakers.
“Imma ready to go, Mommy,” she says with pride. “I got my shoes on by myself and everything.”
“Yes, I see, baby,” I reply with a smile.
She leans into me, hugging my arm as she
slips her hand into mine. My heart fills. Boukie is worth everything; I have no regrets.
“What shall we sing on our way to school today, monster?”
She thinks about it for a minute, but her choice is the same as always.
“I wanna sing ‘Got You Babe!’”
All it took was one time hearing Sonny and Cher belting out “I Got You Babe” on an oldies station when she was three and she was hooked.
“Sounds good to me,” I say as we step out the door. She beams up at me as I lock the door behind us.
“They say we’re young and we don’t know we won’t find out until we grow... Well, I don't know if all that's true, ‘cause you got me, and baby I got you...”
“Babe!” Boukie sings at the top of her lungs with me. “I got you babe!”
CAVEK
As I sit with Boukie, I am impatient to see Kate again. More than once, I find myself counting the hours until she arrives to fetch her daughter. I try not to show my interest too much around the others.
Sammi has been giving me strangely hostile looks since yesterday. I am not sure why, but I suspect it has to do with Kate. Does she disapprove of my interest in her friend? That would hardly seem fair, given that she herself is mated to an orc. I considered asking Orgath, but the moment I even say Kate’s name he gives me a foreboding look that effectively silences me. Considering that I’m not cowed by anyone, that’s an achievement. I’m not afraid of him, exactly, but I like breathing easy and so it seems to be in my best interest to not aggravate him.
Although I miss my female, Boukie is endless entertainment. She reminds me a little of a young troll with all her energy and bright personality. She’d arrived earlier that afternoon when Lucy picked her up from the educational place they call a school. She’d thrown a small bag on a chair and spent an hour showing me how well she has learned to write her human lettering in something called homework. The concept baffles me, but I enjoy watching her form the shaky, scrawled letters. She demonstrates each one and sternly has me follow suit.
We’re sitting side-by-side as she supervises my writing when Lucy places two plates on the table. A sweet and fishy smell wafts up from two paste-laden breads.
“What is this?” I ask, breathing in the delicious aroma. Trolls live in deep forests where rivers often run thick with fish. It’s a staple of our diet, but this type I have never experienced before.
Boukie takes a huge bite out of the food on her plate and speaks around the mass in her mouth, a thin, white, pasty substance smeared across her lips.
“It’s a tuna fish sammich!” she declares with a happy noise, her words running together in her sweet childish lisp. “Nana Lucy makes the bestest sammiches.”
“Tuna is a large ocean-dwelling fish,” Lucy says. “And the word is sandwich, Boukie.”
Boukie frowns up at her. “That’s what I said.”
She is all smiles again within seconds as she leans forward to whisper, “My mommy makes the bestest tuna. It’s not a sammich. It’s a cassie-ol. It’s got noodles, tato chips, and peas.” She grimaces. “I don’t like peas, but they’re okay in tuna cassie-ol. You’ll like it. I’ll tell Mommy to make it for you.”
“That’s a great idea, Boukie,” I say as I take a bite of my own sandwich. Taste bursts over my tongue. The thin, white food paste has a slightly sweet flavoring that congeals the fish, and a tartness added from some green pickled bits. It all offsets the mild, flaky fish in an appealing way, no less so than the two thin pieces of bread holding it together. This sandwich innovation I must share with my brethren. It is a truly clever and tasty way to concoct a small midday repast.
“Cavek, are you really gonna go back with Orgath and Auntie Sammi?” Boukie asks. I stare at her in surprise and my heart swells. I can’t stay, but I don’t want to leave without Boukie and Kate. It surely wouldn’t go unnoticed by Sammi if I attempted to take them with me.
“Yes, I am,” I say.
“Oh,” she huffs with disappointment. “Is your home very nice?”
I nod at her a few times. “It is very nice. You would like it. It’s in the middle of a great forest, with rivers and streams running through it, and there are all kind of wild animals. We build our homes in the roots of the giant trees where we won’t disturb them, or sometimes in houses high in the branches. At night, the whole village is lit up with lanterns and faery lights. All the trolls like to dance and sing at night, because we are the best-loved children of the moon.”
Boukie’s eyes widen. “Wow...” she breathes. “Can I be a troll and live in the troll village?”
I ruffle her dark hair affectionately.
“You would make a fine troll,” I say.
“She certainly has the attitude for it,” Sammi says as she comes in and sits across from me. She smiles at her niece before fixing a stern look on me. “What are you doing, Cavek?”
My eyes grow wide. “I’m merely enjoying Boukie’s company. We have been painting and making our letters.”
“Uh-huh. And this has nothing to do with Kate?”
I frown at her. That is not fair.
“I do not like what you are asking. Boukie is a part of Kate—there is no dispute on that—but I enjoy Boukie for herself. She reminds me much of the trollbies, the children in my village. Believe it or not, I enjoy children.”
Sammi lowers her eyes and blushes. “I don’t mean anything in particular by it. I just want to warn you that you can’t get to Kate through her daughter. Men have tried that before, and it didn’t go well.”
Anger rolls through me just imagining these other men. I do not want to think of my mate and the males she has lain with in the past. In any case, a male who would use a child to gain the favor of a female was loathsome. I could only feel sympathy for Kate for what she’s had to deal with coming from the males of her own species. Though I appreciate that Sammi is looking out for her friend, I find that I am equally irritated at her for the assumption that I would do something that vile.
“I assure you that anything between me and Kate will happen because we mutually want it, and no other reason,” I say stiffly.
“I’m sorry, Cavek. It’s nothing personal, not against you. I just want the best for my friend.”
Oh, I understand very well. I understand that I have to be careful and reveal nothing in front of Sammi. Trolls are hunters—predators, really—by nature. I can be patient as I lay the groundwork for my claim.
Folding my hands on the table, I put on a polite smile for Sammi.
Chapter 3
Cavek
When Kate arrives, Sammi’s father David strikes up a large metal brazier of sorts that he calls a grill. I’m so fascinated with this barbeque idea that it keeps me moderately entertained so that I am not hovering suspiciously over my female as she socializes with her adoptive family. I do not know what to make of this grill. No doubt it is a curious thing but seems inferior to methods we trolls make use of.
Among trolls, we have a grill, but it is only a metal lacing that we set over a low fire. Containing it in a brazier seems odd to me. Why not just dig a pit, line it with rocks and peat, and place the metal lacing over it? I’m certain if he did it that way, he would find the results far more satisfying. To my surprise, he looks at me with horror when I suggest it, but he offers to let me build a fire in his burn pit for something called marsh-a-mallows after our evening meal.
David is woefully lacking in peat, and I cannot imagine what uncivilized realm I have come to that doesn’t give every family a ration of it. My mother sees to the distribution of peat among the trolls herself. I pull the metal lacing out of an old, unused brazier with a rusted bottom and haul it over to the shamefully shallow indention that he calls a burn pit. Boukie trails behind me with a handful of bright ribbons, watching my every move with focused interest.
With great care, I scoop her up and set her on a nearby log.
“Sit here and observe,” I instruct her. “I will show you how trolls prepare to do this barb
equing thing. First, we must double the depth of the pit. You want it big enough to layer rocks in the bottom and to contain a second layer, either of tall rocks or metal poles, that holds lacing above the fire. This is far too shallow.”
Boukie nods. “Yes, too shallow,” she parrots sagely.
I grin at my little trollbie. I will make a fine troll out of her.
I make quick work of digging out the pit with my claws. Unlike humans with their flimsy nails, trolls are graced by the gods with thick claws that allow us to dig through most substances with ease. A determined troll with enough time on his hands can even burrow into stone without doing more than slightly dulling his claws.
Once I’m satisfied with the depth, I step out of the pit, brush off the dirt, and begin to scour the wooded area framing the yard for appropriate rocks for my mission. Boukie bounds through the brush and yells whenever she comes across a decently-sized stone. To my relief, I find six large rocks appropriate to position the lacing high enough above the fire.
We get a few odd looks as we haul our rocks out and throw them beside the pit, but for the most part, everyone seems to be interested in what I am doing. Luke and Kate both wander closer as I line the pit with our findings. Boukie hovers like a taskmaster, pointing at what stone I should place next. She’s so earnest I refrain from laughing and dutifully do as instructed.
That doesn’t stop Kate from chuckling, the sweet sound warming my heart and spurring my imagination. It doesn’t take much effort to think of Kate and I comfortably secure in my tree-burrow, sitting outside its thick roots enjoying this barbequing thing with our children.
It’s a nice fantasy.
To my surprise, just as I am about to scout for something I can use in place of peat, David hands me a bag of scented wood chips.
The Troll Bride Page 2
