Page 6 of Buck Wild Orc Cowboy (Brides of the Lonesome Creek Orcs #3)

We moved through the next hour in short, wordless bursts.

Customers came and went, and one of us served them.

Max finished half his book. Sel left briefly and returned, handing me a covered plate loaded with something dark red and green and savory smelling from the saloon, stating he’d given Max his already.

Our lunch. We added thick slices of bread, fresh from the oven, loaded with butter.

We didn’t sit to eat, but stood, leaning against the counter near each other, taking bites from our plates like it was normal.

Max ate sitting in one of the cute metal chairs in front of the bakery, people watching.

All of this was too normal, and that scared me in a way I couldn’t quite handle.

Late afternoon, we prepped more dough. The ones that needed double rises, the ones that demanded time and quiet. We’d bake them tomorrow morning. Sel worked without a recipe, crafting from memory. I followed his cues, trying not to lean toward him whenever he stepped close.

By three forty-five, the town had slowed. No one came inside to make a purchase. Even Max had set aside his book and was staring out the big picture window, watching people pass by on the street.

We’d cleaned the prep counters. Muffin tins had been stacked and were drying. Every inch of me ached in that good way that meant I’d done something with my hands, something meaningful.

“We’re finished four minutes early,” Sel said softly, glancing at the clock hanging on the back wall.

He strode out to the front, his boots scuffing the tile, and flipped the sign to CLOSED, locking the door.

“You know your stuff,” he said, returning to lean a hip against the counter nearby.

I rinsed out a cloth and placed it in the bin for washing. “Thanks.” I was embarrassed by how much his simple words mattered.

As if he understood all the feelings and thoughts jumbling around inside me, he nodded. “Holly.” The way my name curled in his voice made something twist low in my belly.

I wasn’t ready to hear my name said like that, not spoken with this much gentleness. “Yeah?”

“I'd like you to move out of the hotel. You can stay at my house.”

My fingers twitched at my sides. “What?”

He straightened, his jaw flexing like he was steeling himself. “If you want. You don’t have to. But it’s quiet, and the room at the hotel wasn’t meant for long-term. The spare bedroom at my place is small, but clean. It has a real bed that's big enough for Max.”

“And where would I sleep?”

“My bedroom.” He coughed. “ Not with me.”

My brain hadn't even gone there yet. I stared at him, my heart thudding in my chest.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“When we'd finished building everything on Main Street, we worked on homes for me and my five brothers.

We built mine first, and it's the only one that has two bedrooms. To save time and get everyone settled, we built one-bedroom homes after that.

Two of my brothers now have human mates, and I'm sure they'll add to their homes, especially if they have young on the way.”

“Do they?”

He shook his head. “I don't know about that, but it happens, right?”

With sex, yeah. Which was why I had Max.

I hadn't married Melvin. We'd lived together until he turned mean.

Hit me. Made credible threats. When he broke my arm, I had to go to the ER.

They spoke to me alone, and I told them what was happening.

When we got home, he was angry, and he threatened Max and I with a gun.

Fed up and terrified, I went to the police.

Things went fast after that, and Melvin was charged, tried, and sentenced to seven years in jail.

But mates… I wasn’t ready to picture other people growing roots, not when I still hadn’t fully unpacked my bag. Mates and adding on rooms and expecting something from the future belonged to a quieter life I hadn’t figured out how to obtain yet.

“The thing is,” Sel said, “there's more room there. You wouldn't have to share a bed with your son. You'd both have privacy.”

My mouth stayed useless. I'd forgotten what privacy felt like, the kind where no one watches your shoulders for signs of flinching.

I internally tangled between stay and run.

Moving into a house felt like settling in one place.

But wasn't that what I'd dreamed of for far too long?

I'd known Boston was only temporary. I'd taken a good job there that allowed me to save for the time we had to run.

They didn't incarcerate anyone for life for beating up his girlfriend, not even when he broke her arm and pointed a gun at her head.

“Where will you sleep?” I asked as if figuring out where his body would go in the dark was suddenly the most important piece of this situation.

Sel cleared his throat. “In the barn with the sorhoxes. I can set up a bed in the hay loft.”

“I see.” I stepped past him, out into the front room.

Max lifted his head, and the way he shot his gaze from me to Sel and back again made it clear he was listening. “You have sorhoxes?” he asked Sel.

Sel’s whole face softened, and he grinned Max's way. “Ten of them. Three are untrained younglings . I’ll be working with them as soon as I find the time.”

“I could help.” Max sat straighter, and the eagerness, the hope on his face crushed me. My boy ached for stability as much as me. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Sel said. “But we haven't settled whether you two are going to stay at my place, and I'm not going to push your mom about that.”

Max nodded fast, his pleading gaze meeting mine.

I didn’t speak. Couldn’t. My voice was buried somewhere under a stack of thoughts too sharp to touch. This offer. His kindness. It didn’t come with pressure, but that made it worse. Or better. I couldn’t tell.

My gut tugged me in two directions. One part screamed that too much trust given too fast might land me in a worse situation. But the louder part wanted to cry from how nice it felt to have somewhere to call home, if only for a short time.

Sel must’ve misread my silence. He stepped over to the front window and looked through. “You don’t have to, of course. Just thought I’d offer. It’s a decent house. You’d be safe there.”

Safe. The word hit like a stone in deep water, sinking straight through me, too fast to stop. He had no way of knowing what landmine he'd stepped on. He said it without an agenda, without even a touch of pity. He was naming the thing I hadn't had in years like it was normal.

I met Max's hopeful gaze. Even if I was leaning toward yes, a no from my son was a no from me. He gave me one small nod.

My breath wobbled in my chest. “Okay.”

Sel turned. Blinked. “You’re sure?”

“We won't get in the way,” I rushed to say. “I’ll work here more hours to make up for the space and time and?—”

“Holly.” His gaze held mine. “You don’t owe me anything.” He said it like it was a fact, not a kindness. And I wasn’t sure I dared believe him.

For this, I did owe him. Not in coin or trade. I owed him for seeing something steady in me. For not asking what we'd been through before deciding we belonged.

My throat burned. I forced a blink to clear the sting in my eyes and rubbed my hand down my face before I spouted thank you too many times to count.

I sniffed, aiming to lighten the mood before it dragged me down to the floor. “Well, if your sorhoxes wake me up at night, I’m naming one of those younglings Stanley.”

Sel released a slow, tusky smile. “Stanley?”

“Seems like the troublemaker type.”

His low laugh rang out. “I’ve got one like that already, so Stanley he is.” The sound of his laugh hit low and sweet. I'd forgotten how good it felt to make someone happy, just by being me.

Max chuckled along with him.

And for the first time in a long while, I felt like I'd finally come home.