Dad Bod Ogre: A Monster Romance by Lynnea Lee

Author:Lynnea Lee [Lee, Lynnea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Wren

I set down my crochet project and hurried over to Soft Serve. Argh, too late! A generously sized poop plopped down onto the floor, right next to the recently created puddle.

“Not again,” I huffed, heading over the cabinet for yet another cleaning wipe.

Carack had been very understanding and claimed he didn’t mind, but I did. It was fine for Soft Serve to go on the floor of the cave—he was a wild animal, after all—but this shiny wood floor had different colors arranged in an intricate geometric pattern and looked very expensive.

The only saving grace was that cheeka poop didn’t smell bad; it was reminiscent of wet leaves. But still, we were guests at Carack’s home. I’d put the tarp I’d used previously as a mattress under the spot where he usually liked to hang out, but somehow, Soft Serve missed the whole thing every damned time. It was like he was deliberately aiming for the wood.

As I cleaned, the spoiled cheeka tossed a few limp cheekamoya leaves down at me, as if complaining about his less-than-fresh fare. I wasn’t intentionally feeding him subpar leaves—in fact, we’d tried to get him to go up the tree on his own just yesterday evening to pick the best ones. He’d sat stubbornly on Carack’s shoulder, refusing to do the work himself. The lazy bum!

I picked the limp, admittedly unappetizing leaf out of my hair and glared up at the tiny, spoiled prince. He chattered and tossed another rejected leaf down at me.

“Why, you little—” I stood and reached up for him, wipe still in hand, but Soft Serve bounded across the ceiling beams, having clearly claimed the entire top part of Carack’s home as his domain. We’d tied a box with a hole cut out of it onto one of the rafters for him to use as a nest box and everything.

A warm chuckle had me turning to Carack. “I did not know cheekas were so playful.”

Cheekas were social animals and needed lots of interaction with their own kind. Since there were no other cheekas here, Soft Serve had adopted us and insisted we pay attention to him all day long. He’d found out that throwing leaves and other items down from the beams always got my attention, so he kept doing it. We’d only been here a handful of days; how was the poor little guy going to last the whole winter?

I had briefly considered sneaking him back to the farm, but it was too dangerous. Carack’s sensors had spotted another drone right at the edge of the territory just yesterday, but it had stayed on the human side of the border, so he couldn’t shoot it down.

“Maybe he needs a walk outside,” I suggested.

“We can go do our perimeter check,” Carack said, returning the axe in his hands to its place on the wall.

He’d been training a little every day since I got here with all the different weapons on the wall. I was surprised at how slowly and

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