Page 10 of Buck Wild Orc Cowboy (Brides of the Lonesome Creek Orcs #3)

“Remain loose and let Brelar set his own pace,” he told Max, who nodded, his hand tightening on the saddle horn.

Sel nudged Zist with his heels, and the beast moved forward with a slow, plodding gait with Brelar right behind.

We passed the barn where I'd read they held weddings and community functions and entered the back alley behind Main Street. Two tourists sat on the hotel's back steps eating ice cream cones. They waved as we passed, and I was grateful they didn't take pictures.

A breeze picked up dirt and sent it swirling in a mini dust devil in front of us.

As we exited the alley, the Main Street sounds faded.

No buzz of conversation. No clustered groups dressed in cowboy hats and prairie dresses.

Only the rustle of the wind through grass that stretched far in every direction, broken only by fences and wild brush.

Hills rolled beyond the open plain, then a vast forest marched up the bigger hills leading to the white-capped mountains.

Lonesome Creek was the perfect place to disappear.

Max’s laugh cut through the quiet. “Forward, mighty steed. To the edge of the kingdom.”

My heart cracked wide open. When had he last laughed about anything? Also too long ago. My boy was settling in here already. He liked it.

Lonesome Creek appeared to be the perfect place to raise a son.

As he rode at Zist's side, Max pretended to lasso something and spoke to Brelar in fake Orcish. Brelar didn’t seem to mind.

I shifted with Zist’s movement, and that nudged me back against Sel’s chest. He was incredibly warm. Comforting to rest against.

When was the last time I'd laughed or felt at ease with a guy?

Too long ago.

I didn’t imagine the faint twitch behind my butt.

He wasn't getting a hard-on, was he? I dismissed the idea as soon as it sprang up in my mind.

Of course he wasn't. I was his employee.

He didn't see me as dating material. My senses were lying. Traitors, all of them. Firing alarms because I hadn’t been this close to someone in years.

Sel pointed things out as we rode along the dirt road without passing a single car or other sorhox.

“See that fence post with a painted white tip?

That marks the start of our ranch lands.

Part of the welcome introduction to Lonesome Creek indicates this part is private property, that no one's supposed to ride or walk in this direction unless they’re specifically on a guided tour.

So far, everyone's respected that, which we appreciate. When we leave work for the day, we want to truly leave it, not have it follow.”

“Everything’s beautiful,” I said, though the word wasn’t enough.

He sounded proud, though his answer was gruff. “We love it here.”

Wind picked up, sifting through the tall scrub and whipping strands of hair across my face. My eyes watered, but I smiled anyway.

After three more bends in the path later, a white house came into view. Black shutters. A small porch on the right side. A red barn with a curved roof stood behind it, and a pasture extended beyond where sorhoxes grazed or lay in the grass, their tails flicking at flies.

“Is that where we'll live?” Max asked.

“It is,” Sel said.

Max let out a whoop of pure joy. “This is cool.”

Sel urged the sorhoxes past the house, and I crooked my neck to take it all in. We'd only ever lived in apartments in the city, never in a house. Of course I'd been inside houses, but they were too expensive to rent.

He slowed the beasts when we reached the fence extending away from the barn.

Sel dismounted first, landing lightly on the ground. Reaching up, he slid me off Zist and placed my feet on the packed dirt.

“My legs feel funny,” I said with a laugh. “I feel like I'm walking bowlegged.”

“You’re a true cowboy then.” He held onto my arm even though I wasn't unsteady. I didn't shrug him off because it felt nice to be near him, to have him touching me. Something I'd never expected to find with anyone after my ex.

“All I need is my own hat,” I said with a grin.

He adjusted his own, creating a shadow across his face that made him look incredibly sexy. “Let's get you one tomorrow.”

“I can't spend money on something like that.”

“We'll see,” was all he said.

Maybe he didn’t mean to say it at all, but my brain unboxed the words anyway and stared at them too long.

Max leapt from his beast with complete confidence, landing solidly on the ground. “That was so much fun. When can I go riding again?”

Sel's gaze met mine. “We'll talk about it soon, alright?”

Max scuffed the dirt with the toe of his sneaker. “Okay.”

Sel meant after he'd spoken with me, and I appreciated that he wasn't making decisions related to my son without my input, plus that he wasn't seeking that input in front of Max.

“We need to put Zist and Brelar in the pasture with the others,” Sel said, going over to Brelar and loosening the strap holding the saddle. He slid it off and handed it to Max, whose eyes bugged.

Max peered around, wrangling to hold it. “Where do I put it?”

“In the barn. Follow me, and I'll show you what you need to do before you put it away for your next use.”

“We have to do something to it?” Max followed Sel to the barn, where Sel opened the big door on the front.

“Leather needs proper care if it's going to remain supple.” Sel stepped into the barn, his voice echoing, and Max followed. “Over here.”

I poked my head inside, taking in the gated stalls along the right side, a wall with only one door on the left. Sel urged Max to a room at the end, and I could hear him explaining what Max would need to do to take care of the saddle. While Max worked, Sel joined me at the entrance.

“It won't take him long. I hope you don't mind that I put him to work,” he said.

“Not at all. I appreciate you being patient with him, showing him what to do.”

“He's a good youngling. I can see that already.”

“Thank you. I’ve done my best with him.” Despite the damage his father had done before he and I were finished.

“I’ll be happy to teach him about cowboy life, but we’ll talk about that later.”

I nodded.

“Where are you going to sleep?” I noted a ladder mounted on the left wall leading to an open hatch above. The smell of fresh wood and hay filled the air, and sunlight poked in from the solitary window at the end. This barn had been built similarly to the one in town, only smaller.

He pointed to the ladder. “Up there.”

I strode over to it and started climbing.

“Oh.” He followed. “You don't need to see.”

Which told me I did. It wasn’t snooping. It was about surviving. And I wanted to understand this man whose presence had made me start feeling again.

At the top, I stepped onto a plank floor. Bales of hay had been stacked in long rows, and they covered at least three quarters of the area.

“I don't see how anyone can sleep here,” I called down, turning and bumping into Sel. “Sorry.” I stabilized myself with my hands on his arms. I hated how much I wanted to keep my hands there, how much my skin noticed his. I pulled back like I’d touched something hot, but not before the wanting part of me registered how amazing he felt.

He really was tall, at least a foot or more taller than me, and broad. Muscular. Sweet smelling. That made me back up fast. My foot caught on something, and I tumbled backward.

Sel reached for me and somehow got caught in the fall himself.

We hit the hay-covered floor.

He landed on top of me, somehow bracing his body to avoid crushing me.

His weight wasn’t heavy, but it was everywhere, from his arms to the press of his palms near my shoulders to the warmth on my chest. My body didn’t know what to do with any of it.

Some part of me wanted to shove him away fast. That was instinct talking.

But another part stayed still. My feelings weren't anything I had a name for.

Just something old and hungry rubbing its eyes awake after a very long snooze.

He blinked down at me, frowning, his gaze oddly focused on my mouth.

Tingles spread through me as I gaped up at him.

I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Maybe I thought he could kiss the years off me, the way his kindness had already softened things I’d kept locked down.

I wasn’t sure I liked how much I wanted him to try.