The grumpiest orc in Harvest Hollow just became my husband… and it’s entirely my fault.
I’m a baker with a ticking clock, an orchard to save, and a best friend who thinks marrying the town’s scowliest lumberjack is “practically fate.”
It’s supposed to be pretend — just long enough to keep the land out of my slimy cousin’s hands.
But Thornak Ironjaw keeps showing up early to fix my porch railing.
Keeps carrying cider barrels like they’re featherlight.
Keeps looking at me like I’m more than a convenience… like I’m his.
Now autumn is slipping toward winter, the orchard smells like cinnamon and woodsmoke, and my...
The grumpiest orc in Harvest Hollow just became my husband… and it’s entirely my fault.
I’m a baker with a ticking clock, an orchard to save, and a best friend who thinks marrying the town’s scowliest lumberjack is “practically fate.”
It’s supposed to be pretend — just long enough to keep the land out of my slimy cousin’s hands.
But Thornak Ironjaw keeps showing up early to fix my porch railing.
Keeps carrying cider barrels like they’re featherlight.
Keeps looking at me like I’m more than a convenience… like I’m his.
Now autumn is slipping toward winter, the orchard smells like cinnamon and woodsmoke, and my fake husband is in my bed, his big hands cupping my waist like I’m something worth keeping.
The problem? I don’t want to stop pretending.
Read on for fake marriage deadlines, grumpy-orc obsession, autumn spice steam, and a sunshine baker who’s tired of playing make-believe. HEA Guaranteed!
