Page 12 of Buck Wild Orc Cowboy (Brides of the Lonesome Creek Orcs #3)

Holly

W e ate a simple dinner of meat, a starchy root that tasted like potatoes only with a hint of a spice I hadn't tasted before in my life, plus a vegetable.

Everything came from the orc kingdom. Sel mentioned something about going to the closest town tomorrow to buy human food, plus a few other purchases, and he urged us to come with him.

We'd go after the bakery closed for the day, among other things.

Since Max and I had only brought a few things, I agreed.

I'd have to be careful with the money I'd brought to make it last at least until I got paid, but a boy needed clothing and books even if his mother didn't need more than air to breathe and a meal every now and then.

After we’d cleaned up after our meal, Max went outside to watch the sorhoxes while I did my best to give him the freedom to do this alone without me chasing after him.

The odds of Melvin tracking us down here, let alone so soon, was practically nil, so I told myself to chill and let the poor boy live—for now.

Sel and I settled in the living room.

I chose the armchair nearest the window, mostly because it gave me distance from Sel.

And from my thoughts. But mostly from Sel.

I wasn’t sure what I thought of our kiss, other than I’d liked it.

Very much. And that could be a problem. He was my boss.

I’d just met him. I had a son to raise. There was no time in all this for me.

He took the couch across from me, his large frame sinking into it like it had been built around him.

One arm stretched along the backrest while the other lazily rested on his knee.

He looked so relaxed. Big. Comfortable in his own skin.

And every time I glanced across the space between us, something in my chest fluttered.

The wind from the slightly open windows stirred the curtains.

Every few seconds, they’d ripple outward and let in the scent of grass and pine and something earthy I hadn’t learned to name yet.

Before sitting, I'd checked, noting Max leaning on the pasture fencing, watching the sorhoxes. He hadn’t looked that peaceful in years.

I wrapped both hands around the mug of tea Sel had given me before we left the kitchen. The warmth gave me something to focus on, but not for long.

Our kiss wouldn’t leave my head, not when we sat here like normal people doing normal after-dinner things. Not when I couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d looked at me in the hayloft with the dust motes floating around us, the smell of wood and straw and vanilla between us.

When he'd kissed me, it had felt real, like it wasn’t a mistake or a spontaneous thing. Like he’d wanted it as much as me.

The heat creeping up my neck wasn’t from the tea. I was too aware of him now. The spread of his shoulders. The way he tapped a finger absently on his knee. The sheer amount of space he took up without making me feel crowded. He gave me room to breathe, something I’d never had with a man.

But he was just a friend. He was giving me and my son a roof over our heads. I had to keep my feelings to myself.

My jaw tight, I squeezed the mug. What if he thought I was the kind of woman who flirted her way into getting favors? He might believe that after one kiss I'd suddenly expect all kinds of things from him. Or worse, offer something more.

That wasn’t me. Not even close.

He hadn’t said a word about it since. Maybe he already regretted it. Maybe he thought I made a habit of it with all my bosses. I never had and never thought I would. I'd always kept things professional.

I'd hidden, that is. Kept to myself and didn't let anyone in. Doing something like that could hurt me even more than Melvin had.

My gut twisted. That kiss meant a lot to me. It left me warm in a way I hadn’t felt in years. My skin still remembered the shape of his hand on the back of my neck. The flicker of his breath against my cheek when he leaned in close. The way our mouths met, slowly, like we were exploring each other.

It had felt right, and it had made me feel alive. This was a reminder that I could still feel things, that maybe I wasn’t as broken as I’d believed.

We had only arrived here yesterday. I wasn't supposed to be feeling much of anything for someone new, especially not this fast. That was what happened with Melvin. He’d lured me in quickly, full of charm and promises.

By the time I saw the man behind the smiles, I was already pregnant and stuck.

And when he couldn’t control me with charm anymore, he used his hands.

As far as I could tell, that wasn't Sel, but how could I trust my judgment about any guy?

He was different. He had to be.

Still. What if he thought I owed him something now?

The words popped out. “If you’re thinking I’m the kind of woman who sleeps with someone just because they offered me a place to stay, you need to know that I’m not.”

Sel’s head lifted, his brows drawing together in a puzzled line. “What?”

My eyes dropped to my tea still clenched in both hands. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Instead, I laughed but it didn’t sound like joy. “Just clearing the air.”

He leaned forward, bracing his arms on his knees. His voice came out gentle. “That thought never crossed my mind.”

I pressed my lips together.

“I mean it,” he said. “You’re here because you needed a fresh start. I want to give you one. That’s all.”

Relief hit me like a wave, fast, strong, and a little disorienting. But it didn’t erase what happened.

“Then the kiss?—”

“That was…” He sat back again, exhaling. “That wasn’t about a place to stay.”

I truly looked at him then.

His gaze held mine. “That was something else.”

Something else?

My heart thumped a little faster.

Sel didn’t blink. Didn’t look put off. His head shook once. “I’d never suggest anything like that. If I'm with someone again, it'll be because we both want it, not because someone owes me.”

His gaze slid from mine, but I sensed he did it for a reason other than the old, if you're not looking at someone you must be lying thing.

He’d had a mate already. She’d died with their youngling. A true tragedy. He may have loved her deeply. The loss must still haunt him.

“I enjoyed our kiss,” he said, holding my gaze. “I’d like to kiss you again. But only if it’s something you want.”

Oh. Well. My face heated. Not spontaneous after all?

I tightened my fingers around the mug, though not from nerves anymore. This male was so sincere, so earnest and sweet. He was stating what he wanted but not putting any pressure on me, which I appreciated.

“When did your first mate die?” A touchy subject to bring up, but I wanted to know everything about him.

“Three years ago.”

He wasn't over it. Who ever got over something like that? But maybe he was ready to try again.

I wasn't sure I was, however. I might never be ready to let someone new into my life.

“You don’t owe me,” he said. “You’re working for your place here. Freely. That’s enough.”

The back of my neck prickled, a leftover habit of checking for things behind me that weren’t there anymore, but I let myself breathe again.

His eyes settled on mine. His hands remained still, folded loosely in his lap. It was only then that I noticed the circular, golden tattoo etched on the inside of his left wrist. I didn’t remember seeing it before. I must’ve missed it.

“So…” I cleared my throat and carefully placed the mug on the coffee table between us. “About Max. You said he could stay here during the day, while I’m at the bakery.”

“He’s welcome here. Any time. I understand why you're careful with him. I'd be the same way. If it makes it easier for you, you can come back for lunch if you want. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

“That’s kind of you.” But mother-mode had already kicked in again. “One worry is the sorhoxes. Max is fearless.” Protective, too, which was the final straw with Melvin. My son tried to stand between us and Melvin… Well, I didn't want to think about that.

“I've seen that in him already.”

That made me grin. “I don't want to mute his bravery, but we should set some ground rules so he knows what’s okay and what’s not.”

He shifted on the couch, leaning back. “He can walk along the edge of the pasture if he stays on the path. He’s free to watch the sorhoxes at any time.

I could show him how to open the gate, and he could call to Brelar, bring him out for a solid brushing.

As you saw, Brelar’s gentle. But no riding.

Not for a long time yet. Not until he has one of us with him. ”

I nodded. Absolutely no problem there.

“With your permission, I could work with him during the evenings.

Teach him safety around beasts of that size.

How they move. What not to do, especially around the younglings.

Once he shows he understands and not just by listening, but really getting it, we can talk about supervised riding.

I could also show him what I'm doing with the young ones.

For now, I'm getting them used to my touch and to walking on a harness.”

“How big are the young ones?”

“Well.” His tusky smile bloomed, and even something as simple as that made butterflies flit through my belly.

“They're big. Not quite as tall as him, but sorhoxes are gentle in general.

Sure, they can be protective, especially around their young, but they've been domesticated for many generations, and we've bred the meanness out of them.”

“I appreciate that you’re thinking that far ahead,” I said. “Teaching him the right way.”

He gave a small shrug like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was. To me, it was everything.

I trusted him. That thought settled deep in my belly. Trust wasn’t something I gave away easily. A big part of me wanted to get up and walk the length of the house to shake it off. Instead, I remained in the chair and let it sink deeper.

“Any time Max puts real work into the animals,” Sel said, “like grooming, feeding, helping with harness practice, I’ll pay him for his time.”

I lifted my brows. “That’s generous, but maybe it doesn’t need to go that far yet. He’s just a kid.”

“He’d be helping.” A quiet smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Work is work. You want him to grow? Earning something teaches a youngling not only how to handle money, but the financial value of work. He’s young, but not too young to start learning.”

There was no arguing with that. I’d tried to teach Max about effort, follow-through, not expecting anything for free. But there were whole months when I’d been too tired or full of worry to do more than get us through the day. Hearing him name it like that hurt a little. But it helped even more.

I nodded. “He’d probably love that, honestly. Having his own money.”

Sel smiled, satisfied.

We sat quietly, but it felt nice. Soothing. I leaned back, letting my muscles loosen. The rest of my tea sat forgotten on the table. My fingers didn’t need the mug-in-hand anymore.

Sel sat the same as before, relaxed, with his arms resting on the back of the couch and his knee. His hands were big, callused from working hard all his life. His eyes weren’t guarded, just open.

I felt bad for him, for what he'd lost, for what both he and Max had lost. As for me? Melvin was an asshole, but at least I had my son.

How strange that I didn’t feel nervous around someone so big.

There’d been times when the sound of a boot heel too close behind me would make my whole body tense up.

That kind of shrinking never really left a person.

But here I was, watching Sel take up space in such an easy way, and all it did was make me feel like I didn’t have to shrink at all.

If anything, I felt safer with him than I had with anyone else.

For the first time in what felt like forever, silence wasn’t heavy. It existed, and I was okay with that.

The back door creaked open, and Max called out. He came down the hall, stopping in the living room doorway. His smile could’ve lit the whole house.

My chest tightened at the sight of it. He was happy, as if he didn’t have the weight of one single thing in the world pressing down on him. That was all I’d ever wanted for my boy. And seeing it after everything we’d come from made me feel like I was being split open and stitched up all at once.

“I’m going to brush my teeth and read for a while,” he said, nudging up his glasses with his thumb.

“Okay, sweetie. Need anything?”

“Nope.” He shrugged. “This is the best day ever.” He said it like it was the most obvious truth in the world. Like good days were normal. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard that kind of certainty in his voice.

My breath got tangled in my throat. I barely managed to smile as I blinked fast. “Glad to hear it.”

Max disappeared down the hall, and a second later, his door closed with a click.

We could explain our plan to him in the morning. I was sure he'd be thrilled to be given some independence. Plus a task—grooming Brelar. Money to spend on whatever he pleased.

I turned back toward Sel, the warmth from Max’s words still curling around me. “I still don’t like you sleeping in the loft.”

“I’ll bring out some blankets, make a nice bed in the hay.”

My eyebrows rose. “Seriously? That’s not a bed.”

“It’s not, but it’s fine. It’s enough for me.” He meant it. I didn't hear one trace of complaint in his voice.

Something in me pulled a little tighter and looser at the same time.

“Alright then.” I stood, lingering a heartbeat too long, unsure what else to say.

Part of me wanted to ask if he wanted to go outside, maybe walk around the pasture, maybe talk a little more about anything and everything.

The other part of me, the cautious part, told me to give this some space to grow.

“Goodnight, Sel,” I finally said. “Thanks again. For everything.”

I didn’t know if we were safe yet, but for the first time in years, I wasn’t looking over my shoulder.

I was looking forward.