“Of course. You were two seconds away from jamming that stiletto up his ass.”
My little snort of a laugh hiccups out of me.
I blush and bite my lower lip; Thor looks at me like he just realized that I’m exactly his type.
God, I hope I’m his type.
Just once, I’d love to meet a guy at one of these fairs who can show me a good time for the weekend. It doesn’t have to be love or fate or any of that crap. Is it too much to ask for some great sex and a nice place to spend the night so I don’t have to listen to three clowns snoring in our trailer? I don’t even care that he looks a little older than me… all right, maybea lotolder, but so what?
I’m in need of the touch of a good man, and Mr. Buzz-cut in Blue Jeans is proving to be plenty good.
“You must be heading to the cook-off,” Thor says, hands in his pockets. “May I walk you?”
There he goes, being a perfect gentleman again. Great sex seems more likely every time he opens his mouth…
“How’d you know?”
“I heard the Valkyrie is a guest judge this year.”
“Were you going to the cook-off to get a glimpse of me, then?”
I’m not teasing; I’m testing.
Thor smiles and lets his eyebrows bounce once. “Something like that.” He holds out his arm. “Shall we?”
I gladly take the excuse to dig my fingers into his beefy bicep. It’s like holding onto a warm boulder. He guides me through the fair, past dingy carnival games, vendors selling homemade soaps, lotions, and candles, and artists attempting to pay their rent for the month through a few sales.
Thor tells me that he’s a retired construction foreman (much older, I guess) and that he built most of the new houses in town. His jolly laugh is not shy to come out, and his smile makes me feel like this dress is too tight, too boiling. The summer sun seems thirty degrees stronger with his arm in mine.
When we come to the edge of the fairgrounds—near one of those spinny rides that makes everyone puke—the smell of warm spices fills the air. A wide horseshoe of multicolored pop-up tents surrounds a small wooden stage with a white table and three chairs. At least the stage is shaded. I can already make out the stupid paper placard Charles must have made for me sitting on the judges’ table.
Next to my last-minute placard is a more official-looking wooden block with the nameThor Larsenetched in gold lettering.
I glance at my massive escort, and he smiles.
“Looks like you’ll be sitting next to me for the competition, Valkyrie.”
Yes, please…
CHAPTER 2
THOR
I'm a simple man. All my life, I've pursued what fulfills me: hard work, cooking, lifting weights, good books, making things—these things fulfill me. Love has never been on that list.
My friends tease me, they say that Thor is too big for love. A man my size has no room for a partner. I always figured they were right. The few women I’ve dated always felt too small. Small lives, small passions. I was too much for them.
When I saw Sam, I knew I’d found my perfect fit. A woman who could fill all the empty spaces in my life. She stood her ground against that creep and didn’t hesitate to douse him and his advances. I’m sure she could have handled it had I not stepped in, but that wasn’t an option. I recognized her as a fighter, and I realized that I would fight for the chance just to hear her name, her voice, her heart beating against my ear just once…
Maybe that's my cock talking (my friends say I’m too casually vulgar for love, too) because I've never seen anyone so intoxicating. The tightness of her athletic body tearing that red dress at the seams makes me wish she’d dump a lemonade on me to cool my boiling thoughts. My hands itch, only to be scratched against the smoothness of her delicate skin.
Those silly posters of the Valkyrie are an injustice to her beauty. She's Elven, mystical, and frightening. Flowing hair asdark and seamless as a night sky absent of the moon and stars. Pearl white skin that shines in the midday light. Eyes so deep a green that they seem to sprout with every blink, spreading like vines and consuming me.
And I've only known her for five minutes.
"So, what did you do to become a judge?" Sam asks as we take the stairs up the small stage. "Because I got harangued into this gig after some old lady croaked. Sure hope it wasn't food poisoning..."
She looks surprised when I laugh heartily.
