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much.
    And then, after a liberal slathering of mayo, I sank my teeth into the burger…
    The man was a short order god , I tell you.  
    “Oh my god,” I said, still chewing, “this burger is fucking amazing. I’m sorry I called you an orc.”  
    He finished a bite of his own and grinned at me. “Hey, I’ve been called worse. Glad you like it.”  
    I’m not sure I even paused to breathe, after that. The burger was the most incredible thing I’d ever tasted, which may have partially been due to extreme hunger on top of being hung over and on my way toward getting re-buzzed. But it was also just a damn good cheeseburger. I knew I’d have to find a gym at some point to work off the calories, but right then I didn’t even remotely give a shit. Not even half a shit.  
    If I can’t indulge without guilt on what was supposed to be my wedding night, which had turned into the worst night of my life, then when can I?  
    When I finished the burger, I got busy on the fries and the beer, finally willing myself to slow down and take a breath. Embarrassingly, I noticed the gorgeous tatted-up bear-dude wasn’t even halfway through his burger, yet.
    I stared at him, silently daring him to say something about my table manners.  
    He just popped a fry into his mouth and washed it down with beer. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. A chick who can dig into a cheeseburger like that is all right in my book. Plus, if you don’t mind me saying so, you look like you’re sporting a wicked hangover, and nothing cures that like good, greasy bar food.”  
    “I’m not sure if I’m still drunk, or drunk again,” I admitted. “Both, probably. And yeah, the food is doing wonders for my mother of all bitch hangover headaches.”  
    “Finish the beer and I’ll pour you another. No sense wavering between hung over or drunk, right?”  
    “As long as you know somewhere I can crash when I need to pass out, then keep pouring them.”  
    “Gotcha covered, angel,” he said, a sly look on his face.
    I shot him a glare. “Angel?” Then the smirk on his lips registered, and I shot to my feet, knocking the stool over, and got in his handsome, rugged face. “Listen here, motherfucker, if you think you’re getting me out of this dress just ’cause you make a decent cheeseburger, you’d better think again. You do not want any of this, and it’s not on offer, so back the fuck off.”
    He raised his hands and eyebrows. “Whoa, lady, chill. Not what I meant.” He tipped his head to one side, that smirk on his face again. “I mean, yeah, I ain’t gonna lie, I’d love to see you out of that dress. But it’s obvious that you’re drinking to forget, and I may be an asshole, but I’m not that asshole. There are a couple of hotels not too far from here. I can drop you off, if you want. ’Course, it’s tourist season, and even in this shitty weather, I’m guessing they’ll be mostly booked by this point. And I’ve been drinking, so driving may not be the best option.”
    I sat down, knowing I’d blown up a little prematurely, but I was not about to apologize for it. “So what are my options then?”
    He stuck a finger up at the ceiling. “Three bedrooms up there, and I’m only using one. They’ve all got sturdy locks and their own bathrooms. If you need to crash and sleep your hangover off, you’re welcome to one.”
    “Alone?”
    He nodded. “Like I said, I’m not that big of an asshole. But you only get one free night.”
    “Then you start charging?”
    “Then I start hitting on you.” He grinned widely. “You’re welcome to stay free as long as you want.”
    “But I’ll have to deal with your slimy advances?”
    He toyed with a fry, and his deep chocolate brown eyes fixed on mine, and good fucking grief, those eyes were deep, vivid, full of life and promise and heat. “Angel, there won’t be nothin’ slimy about it. Trust me on that.” And damn me, but I believed him. Which was a problem. “’Course,