I thought I was done with romance, until a lonely orc in an apron offers me forever.
Holly: Starting over in a bakery in an orc Wild West tourist town wasn’t my plan, but for my twelve-year-old son, Max, I’d do just about anything.
He needs stability, and maybe even a father figure, though he probably won’t admit it.
Sel, the big, kind orc with arms like tree trunks and hands surprisingly gentle with a whisk, stirs something inside me I thought I’d buried.
We’re still healing, still learning how to breathe again.
Letting Sel in could break the fragile peace I’ve fought to build.
But...
I thought I was done with romance, until a lonely orc in an apron offers me forever.
Holly: Starting over in a bakery in an orc Wild West tourist town wasn’t my plan, but for my twelve-year-old son, Max, I’d do just about anything.
He needs stability, and maybe even a father figure, though he probably won’t admit it.
Sel, the big, kind orc with arms like tree trunks and hands surprisingly gentle with a whisk, stirs something inside me I thought I’d buried.
We’re still healing, still learning how to breathe again.
Letting Sel in could break the fragile peace I’ve fought to build.
But when he looks at Max like he already belongs to him and at me like I gave him the moon, how am I supposed to walk away? Maybe risking my heart is the only way to finally find home.
Sel: Running a bakery and training sorhoxes in Lonesome Creek keeps my hands busy and my wounded heart quiet.
But then Holly arrives with wary eyes, a laugh I’ve ached to hear all my life, and a son who looks up at me like I matter.
I didn’t plan to care.
I definitely didn’t plan to hope.
But now I’m looking at mornings full of laughter, shared breakfasts, and maybe even a future that isn’t just work and solitude.
Letting them in means rewriting everything I thought I’d accepted.
But maybe it’s time.
Maybe this lonely orc cowboy’s got one last ride toward something sweeter than pastries—love.
