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ORSON

I t made sense to return to where Alex had parked the truck and wait for her there. Unfortunately, Orson had gotten all turned around in the swirl of the festival and had no idea where it was.

He wandered the booths again, watching for familiar landmarks and thinking about Alex.

It wasn’t—he hoped!—that she was really mad at him, but that he’d caught her by surprise, not once, but twice that morning. Alex, he could already tell, did not like to be surprised.

And she might not be the girly-girl she’d been pretending to be, but she still deserved a little romance. He should be sweeping her off her feet and courting her, not springing marriage and carriages on her on their second full day together like it was an expectation.

A man with a ballcap low over his eyes hurtled carelessly through the crowd and ran right into Orson, bouncing off his chest.

“Woah!” Oson said, catching him on the rebound and holding him at arm’s length.

He looked up at Orson with a flash of unexpected terror, then jerked himself out of his grasp and fled in the opposite direction. Something metallic hit the ground and Orson bent to retrieve it. It was a small tool of some kind, with a pointy tip and a broad, dented back, like an awl or a punch.

It seemed like a strange thing to drop and a gross overreaction for running into someone in a press of people. Orson shrugged the weirdo off, put the thing in his pocket so it didn’t puncture a foot or a stroller tire, and continued his search for the company truck. The smell of the man’s fear reminded him that he had other senses he could use. Magical instinct was an uncertain compass at best, but Alex’s distinctive scent led him to where she had parked, little whiffs of her intoxicating essence guiding Orson to her over the strong smells of food and other people.

He found both the truck and Alex, who was unlocking the door with a scowl on her face that any of Orson’s brothers could be proud of.

“Alex!”

He bounded up beside her.

She thrust his suitcase at him without preamble. “Two rooms,” she reminded him, reaching for her own.

“About that…”

Her look suggested that he choose his words wisely.

“Two rooms,” Orson agreed. “But I was wondering if you’d let me buy you a drink before we went to our two very separate rooms. I’m sorry I sprang everything on you in public before, but I’d…like to get to know you more. Find out how you ended up running the security company. What it was like growing up in Alaska. Have you ever been charged by a moose? Do you have a dog sled?”

“Not everyone in Alaska has a dog sled,” Alex scoffed, but her look was softer than it had been.

“See, now that’s a thing I know!” Orson gave her his best I’m not trouble grin. “What else can you teach me?”

“Two rooms,” she reminded him.

“Two rooms,” he agreed.