Page 37 of Buck Wild Orc Cowboy (Brides of the Lonesome Creek Orcs #3)

Sel

I t would be odd if things weren’t different between us the next day. Some parts of our life remained the same. We were making breakfast together while Max sat at the table, reading. After, we’d get Zist to carry us to the bakery.

It felt normal. Wonderful. Like family.

Awareness pulsed between us. We weren’t necessarily behaving differently with each other, it was better. And I couldn’t ask for anything more.

We mixed pancake batter because it was amazing. Our hands touched as she passed me one ingredient or another, and the memory of being with her shot through me. She smiled, and I could tell she was thinking the same thing by the light in her eyes.

We were happy.

The scent of vanilla and butter soon filled the kitchen. Holly stood barefoot by the stove, her hair still sleep-mussed, stirring batter in the bowl. I sliced strawberries and set them into a bowl to macerate, watching the way the morning light played across her face.

“You didn’t measure the sugar,” she said, peering into my bowl.

I shrugged. “I don’t need to. Orc instincts told me how much to use.”

“Orc instincts better know how to balance acid and sweetness.”

I gave her a mock-serious look. “Surely you trust me.”

She snorted. “Like I was supposed to trust your attempt at omelets last week?”

So I’d added some odd ingredients that turned the green chumble eggs pink. The omelets had still tasted good, and she’d agreed.

Before I could speak, someone knocked on the back kitchen door.

Hail opened the panel and poked his head in.

I wiped my hands on a towel. “Come on in.”

My brother widened the door and stepped through the threshold, dressed in his usual chaps, vest with no shirt, boots with spurs because he adored the way they clinked, and a dusty, orc-sized cowboy hat.

He’d pulled his hair back in a short tail.

He grunted once in greeting and closed the door behind him.

“Morning, Hail,” Holly said brightly. “Are you hungry?”

Another grunt.

I gestured toward the table. “Sit. You’re eating pancakes with us, then.”

Hail shucked his boots and hung his hat on the peg by the door. He moved toward the chair next to Max, whose glasses kept slipping down his nose as he put his book aside and grinned up at my brother.

“Hi, Hail,” Max said.

That got the faintest smile out of my brother as he settled at the table, his gaze tracking every move Holly made at the stove.

“He’s never had pancakes,” I said under my breath as I brought over a plate stacked high and steaming.

I grabbed the syrup, butter, and perfectly macerated strawberries, adding them to the table, while she dished pancakes onto the rest of the plates. We joined them, eager to taste.

Hail stared at his stack like it might require disarming.

“You put butter on first,” Max said, already slathering his. “Then you pour on syrup, though not too much, or it soaks in too fast. I like to make a puddle beside mine for dipping.”

Hail looked to me for confirmation, and I nodded. He picked up the butter knife and poked the stick of butter.

Holly and I also prepared our meal, her taking some of my macerated strawberries, skipping the syrup. See? It was perfect. I didn’t chide her about it, though I would later when we were alone, and I could claim a kiss as penance for doubting my exceptional cooking skills.

We ate. It was quiet for a moment, broken only by the clink of our forks on the plates and the occasional satisfied sound from Max.

Hail’s brow furrowed as he chewed his first bite, like the pancake was a puzzle he was determined to solve.

After swallowing, he made a surprised grunt and stabbed another bite.

Holly grinned across the table. “Grunting is the universal orc sign for approval, right?”

“From Hail?” I said. “For sure.”

Max grinned.

Hail grunted. “Good.”

“Next time I’ll add cinnamon,” Holly said. “There’s a version with brown butter, too.”

Hail paused mid-bite and nodded.

We kept eating. Max asked Hail whether they’d finish painting the north side of the barn today.

“Should,” Hail said. “You… you’ll help with the trim.”

Max beamed like he’d been promoted to supervisor. “Yessss.”

Hail glanced at me. “Mishka…takes the saddle now. Very well.”

“Glad to hear that,” I said. “You’re working her with the harness still?”

“Each day. She’s calmer with Max near.” He glanced at the youngling male. “You’re trustworthy. She can tell.”

Max ducked his head but couldn’t hide his smile. “She let me trim her hooves yesterday.”

“That’s wonderful,” I told him. “This shows she not only trusts but cares about you.”

Hail nodded. “He’ll ride soon. Short distances. Not far.”

She was too young for more, but before we knew it, she’d be grown enough to incorporate into the trail rides.

“Tomorrow?” Max asked.

“Maybe.” Hail’s pointed ears twitched. “If you… if you take it slow. Remain patient.”

“I will. You can count on me.”

I caught the way Hail looked at Max. The boy mattered to him, and I was glad. My brother needed more friends, and so did Max.

Holly’s glanced my way. She was watching them, too, her expression unreadable. Her eyes softened, and she reached for my hand beneath the table and gave it a squeeze.

We finished the meal. Holly and I cleared the plates while Max and Hail stepped outside to start working on the barn. Through the window, I could see Mishka standing in the pasture highlighted by the morning sun, her ears perked forward as the two of them approached.

“Let me go brush my teeth, and I’ll be ready to go,” Holly said as she set the last plate in the drying rack.

She untied her apron and hung it on the peg by the door, returning to look out the window again. “He’s so happy. I’ve never seen him like this.” Turning to me, she gave me a hug. “Thank you.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

She looked up at me. “You have and you know it. The paint on that barn hadn’t even started chipping. But I appreciate having Hail here as much as Max loves having your brother spend time with him.”

“It’s good for Hail too.”

“Then everyone wins.” Stepping away, she started down the hall.

When she was ready, we left the house and walked over to the gate, where Zist was already waiting. It didn’t take long to reach town, and we were soon hard at work in the bakery’s kitchen.

We worked in sync like always, but now there were extra touches.

A brush of her hip against mine. Her hand sliding along my back before she reached past me for flour.

Humming together as we kneaded dough. We moved around each other like a pair who’d been sharing space forever, and maybe in some strange way, we had.

Many believed the fates nudged together those who’d been waiting to find each other.

The scent of baking croissants and bread filled the air, and I watched her brush egg wash over pastries, creating our version of art.

She’d pulled her hair up, but stray wisps curled around her face.

Every time she licked sugar off her finger, my cock twitched, and I nearly dropped what I was holding.

At one point, I couldn’t take it anymore.

I wrapped my arms around her from behind, pulling her against me. “You’re making this very difficult.”

She laughed and tilted her head to kiss my chest. “What is it this time? The way I sashay my butt when I use the rolling pin or the way I lick my fingers?” She did it again, this time in an exaggerated way that reminded me of when she’d run her tongue up the base of my cock.

My damn coorails started humming.

“Everything.” I turned her in my arms and curled forward to kiss her, savoring the taste of sugar on her lips.

“Good grief,” someone called out from nearby.

We broke apart, though I kept an arm around Holly’s waist as we turned. Grannie Lil stood in the doorway with her cane pointed our way like a sword, and her gray hair oddly in a braid swinging down her back. From what I remembered, Grannie Lil’s hair only came to her shoulders.

She must’ve noticed me staring. “Extensions. Like them?”

I nodded, having no idea what she was talking about but knowing better than to say I didn’t like anything if she brought it up.

“I swear, you two are going to draw a crowd with all that kissing,” she grumbled, though her eyes sparkled.

“Morning, Grannie.” Holly’s blush made her whole face glow.

Grannie Lil stepped further into the kitchen, her cane tapping across the floor. “When did this happen?”

“Oh, you mean the pastries?” Holly asked.

Grannie pretended to scowl. She flicked her cane through the air again, and I ducked to avoid being hit, backing away fast, taking Holly with me. “You two kissing. I assume you’re a pair now?”

Her eyes wide, Holly nodded, and my heart burst right there. We were a pair now, weren’t we?

“It’s okay to kiss a little here and there,” Holly said.

“I won’t deny that.” Her grin rose. “But now I’ll have to delete both of you from the matchmaking app Inla and I have been working on.”

Holly arched her brows. “You’re still making that?”

“With all these lonely orcs around? My work will never end.”

“I thought it was for older people? Widows and widowers.”

“Not any longer. We’re expanding it to include your brothers.”

There weren’t many lonely orcs in Lonesome Creek any longer.

Six of us came to the surface from the orc kingdom and only two hadn’t found their fated mates.

At the rate we were going, they’d have to shut down the app if they hoped to match us.

Perhaps I should send word to my cousins, see if any were eager to work at Lonesome Creek, where they might have the chance to meet their fated one.

Lil took a seat on one of the tall stools on the opposite side of the counter. I hurried out front to pour her a cup of tea the way she liked it, with two sugars and a splash of almond milk, and brought it to her. In no time, I’d added some freshly baked pastries on a plate.

“You’re a dear,” she said, tapping her spoon against the rim of her cup. “If I were fifty years younger, Sel, I’d snatch you up for myself.”

“Too late,” I said, reaching for Holly’s hand.

“Hmmph. Rub it in, why don’t you.” She gave a dramatic sigh and sipped her tea. “At least you’ve got good taste, sweetheart. Holly’s a keeper.”

“I know,” I said.

Holly’s cheeks pinked again, but she smiled and wiped flour or cinnamon off my jaw.

While Grannie ate and drank her tea, Holly and I got back to work.

Grannie watched Holly with the sharp-eyed fondness only someone old and wise could get away with.

“You’re glowing,” Lil said softly when I passed nearby.

I came to a stop. “It’s the oven heat.”

She snorted. “It’s love, and it suits you. Don’t screw it up.”

“I don’t plan to.”

Lil gave a crooked smile and stood. “Then I’m off to go knit something ugly and useful. Probably for a cat.”

We walked with her out front, where I swept open the door for her to step outside. The happy chatter of tourists walking past on the boardwalk echoed around us. She waved her cane our way, nearly impaling my right eye, and left, her cane clicking on the wooden sidewalk in a jaunty way.

Sharing rueful smiles, Holly and I returned to the kitchen.

My chest ached in the best way. I never thought I'd find someone like her or have moments like this.

A morning with sunshine streaming in through back windows and a woman I adored humming as she worked beside me.

A mate who smiled when I touched her and a youngling who hugged me like I was family.

Holly took more bakery goods out to the front.

I slid the last tray of bustabill root pastries into the oven, washed the bowl and wandered out front, drawn to her like always. She was stacking honey-twist biscuits into a bakery box while a tourist waited on the other side of the counter, thumbing through her phone.

“Three honey-twists, two cinnamon buns, and a zephyl hand pastie,” Holly said, securing the top of the box. “Can I get you anything else?”

The woman snorted. “If this isn’t enough, I’ll come back. Everything looks amazing.”

“Thank you.” Holly rang her up and the woman left.

More tourists trickled in, two women and a youngling female wearing bonnets and floor-length dresses they must’ve bought at my aunt’s general store.

When one of the women started asking Holly about orc baking traditions, Holly answered warmly.

She was enjoying herself, and that meant everything to me.

As the three left, I kissed the top of Holly’s head. She leaned back into me, and I couldn’t be happier.

We were still smiling when the bell over the door jingled again. A man walked in with a woman, though they wore regular human clothing. Maybe new arrivals in town. The woman leaned close to the display case, exclaiming about multiple items while Holly politely waited for her to decide.

The man watched Holly. There was nothing odd about that, but it still made hackles lift along my spine.

I stiffened behind her, resting my hand lightly on her back, doing my best to keep a pleasant expression on my face.

Holly grabbed a box from the back counter and started filling it with the woman’s requests, but she kept darting looks at the man. She’d noticed his intense stare too.

The woman finished her selection, and while Holly rang her up, the woman complimented the décor, asking about the pottery on the shelves.

“My brother, Hail’s work,” I said. We’d offered to display them yesterday, and he’d brought some into the bakery, carefully placing them on the shelf. “You can find more in the general store.”

“Oh, thank you.” The woman was a stark contrast to the brooding man. “I’ll go there next.”

They left.

Throughout, the man had said nothing.

I shouldn’t feel this unsettled.

Yet I did.