Page 7

Beth

S omeone was banging on my door.

“Beth. Beth!” Ruugar cried out. He flung the door open so fast it smacked against the wall, and rushed inside, skidding to a stop when he spied me snuggling beneath the covers on his bed.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, backing into the wall with a thud.

His pointy-tipped ears darkened to match his face. “I’ll, uh, go make breakfast?”

“Yes, thank you.” I’d slept amazingly well, but it was time for me to get up. Shower. Start figuring out what I’d do next. A good breakfast would definitely help.

He stumbled out into the hall and hauled the door closed. I slid off the super-high bed built for seven-foot orc legs, and, with fresh clothing in my hands, slunk through the hall to the bathroom while he banged pots and pans in the kitchen.

Not long later, I sat across from him at his kitchen table with a heaping plate of food in front of me. Enough for three of me. Or one orc. His portion was the same as mine.

He’d cooked eggs, though they were an odd green color, long strips of something that looked like bacon but probably wasn’t, and huge slabs of bread I planned to slather with butter.

He was squirting ketchup and mustard on his bread, an odd choice that maybe I should try.

Even if it looked different, I was hungry, and it was sweet of him to cook for me.

He plowed through his full plate, looking sheepishly at me after he’d finished, noting I’d only eaten maybe a quarter of mine. But he was a big guy; he must need lots of calories to maintain all those muscles.

Why did I have to notice the way his eyes lingered on me, even for a second, before snapping away? Well, his muscles, too. But his gorgeous eyes. That long look probably meant nothing. It definitely meant nothing. I was a complication in his life, not someone he’d ever want to keep around.

“You want me to do what?” I asked, not quite sure I’d heard what he’d blurted out the moment I lowered my fork beside my plate.

“It’s only for a week,” he said in such a tentative voice I wanted to reach across the table and stroke his arm, tell him it would be okay. “You wouldn’t have to do a thing except pretend to be someone you’re not.”

“No one’s going to think I’m a boy,” I said, pointing out the most impractical part of his suggestion.

I leaned back in my chair, biting my lip to keep from laughing.

He looked so serious, like this was a perfectly reasonable plan.

Like slapping a cowboy hat on my head would magically make me one of the guys.

“I don't have green skin. No one's going to think I'm an orc.”

“Oh, um, no. I told my brother, Dungar, that I'd hired a young human male. He seemed to believe me. The tourists going on the trail ride won’t care either way.”

In all honesty, it wasn't a bad plan. But me pretending to be a boy and helping on a trail ride? I didn't even know how to ride, let alone cook or do…actually anything.

And that was a depressing realization. It wasn't that I hadn't tried.

I'd gone to the kitchen numerous times and asked the chef to teach me how to cook.

But he was as afraid of my father's wrath as me, and he'd turned me down. The woman who cleaned my rooms had bellowed in horror when she found me vacuuming. I’d barely had the chance to discover how fun vacuuming could be.

I was useless. But this idea…

“So I'll tuck my hair under a cowboy hat, smear some dirt on my face, and suddenly—poof—I’m a boy?” I asked.

Ruugar shifted in his chair, his big shoulders tensing.

“Well, yes. Sort of. Mostly. But it’s not impossible.

” His ears twitched, the tips darkening to a deep green.

That alone almost made me lose my cool. Orcs didn’t blush exactly like humans, but it was close.

And on him, it was ridiculously attractive.

Those big, strong hands of his fidgeted on the table, and when his dark eyes darted between me and his plate, my stomach did a weird little swoop.

Probably nerves. Definitely not romance butterflies.

Or was it?

Ruugar exhaled. “You could wear baggier clothes?”

“That’ll really fool people,” I said, deadpan.

He nodded. “Maybe, uh, cut your hair?”

I gasped in mock horror and grabbed a handful of my long blonde tresses. “Absolutely not.” I tilted my head. “Do you really think I should cut it?”

“It’s beautiful.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’ll grow again, right?”

“I suppose. I don’t really want to cut it, though. I like it.” It was one of my good features and one of the few things I could control in my life.

His ears twitched. “Alright. No cutting.”

“If I agree to this, I suppose I could braid it and pin it on the top of my head. I’d have to keep the hat on at all times or the tourists would see right through my disguise.” I couldn’t believe I was actually contemplating doing this.

Although, it actually sounded fun.

“You could deepen your voice.” A sigh escaped him like even he knew how dumb this sounded.

That was it. I lost it. Chuckling, I sat up straight and forced my voice into something gravelly and absurdly low. “Howdy, partner, I’m, uh, who am I now?”

Ruugar’s eyes widened. First in panic, then with something that looked suspiciously like pride. “Ben. ”

Laughter bubbled up so fast I had to clutch my stomach. “Ben? You pulled that out of nowhere.”

He crossed his arms on his chest, scowling, though I could tell he'd caught on to the fact that I was teasing and was giving it right back. “It’s a strong name. Very human.” He scratched the back of his neck. “It's a good job. It pays well.”

And I did need money. “How well?”

He named a figure that made my eyes pop.

“I’m surprised everyone’s not lining up for this position.

It would be amazing. I’ve never been on a trail ride.

Or gone camping. Or…Well, done anything that involved trying to survive on my own.

” And how awesome it would be to do this.

I could learn. He wouldn’t send me away from the cook fire like the chef had.

He wouldn’t bark at me if I tidied my own bunk or whatever it was I’d sleep in.

Ruugar’s expression softened. “It wouldn't be for long,” he said. “Even if you didn't enjoy it.”

But I was beginning to think I would.

“The land is peaceful,” he rushed to say in almost a sales-pitch voice, as if he worried he wouldn't be able to sell me on something I'd only do for a week.

Even if it was horrible, it wouldn't last long.

“The trails wind through the hills, past streams and trees older than memory. The sky stretches so wide, you’d think you're the only person in the world.”

Something in his voice made my chest tighten. He wasn’t just trying to convince me, he was offering me something. A taste of the freedom I'd dreamed about. No walls, no expectations, no father telling me what to do or where to be.

And for seven whole days, I'd be with him .

I twirled a strand of hair around my finger, mulling over the whole thing out loud. “So…I just hide in plain sight. Pretend to be Ben, the small human ranch hand.”

“You’d be safe. And by the time we return, they might have given up and left the area. After that, you could work with my aunt at the general store. Or help Sel at the bakery. He’s looking to hire an assistant.” His face darkened. “Actually, no, I wouldn’t want you to work with Sel.”

“Why not?”

“He’s the most attractive of us brothers.”

Aw, was he suggesting he could be jealous? It couldn’t be. To be jealous, he’d have to like me, and I suspected to him, I would only be another hired hand. Ben. And didn’t that make my heart sink all the way to my toes?

I didn’t want him to like me that way. Did I?

Maybe a little.

He wasn’t promising anything other than a job for a week, a chance to escape the area and hide.

Realistically, my father never gave up on something once he’d decided he deserved it.

And he’d long ago decided I was his to control.

Punished for my crime of being born. We were only delaying the inevitable.

But the alternative was waiting here, hoping Ruugar’s door wouldn’t get kicked in. That my father and Bradley wouldn’t arrive with their version of a SWAT team to haul me away.

I snuck a glance at Ruugar. He sat rigid, watching me like a male afraid to get his hopes up. Maybe he really needed the help. His dark eyes were intense, his jaw clenched like he was holding something back. Being near him made my skin tingle, like I was standing too close to a fire.

But if anyone could keep me safe, it was Ruugar.

“Alright,” I said. “I’ll do it.”

Relief washed over his face. “Good.”

I squinted at him. “First things first, I’m going to need the right clothes.

I only have two outfits like this.” I gestured at my yoga pants and T-shirt.

“These won’t hide my—” Heat rose to my face as I gestured to my chest. “Let’s just say, no one’s going to mistake me for a guy in this outfit.

You don’t happen to have any old clothing you’ve outgrown, do you?

” I almost laughed at the thought. He’d have to have held onto clothing he’d worn when he was ten if they were going to fit me.

He frowned, his gaze flicking to my shirt before snapping away, his ears turning deep green again. “You’re a little—uh—little. But I can get some things for you in town. Tourist stuff, but it will work. Can you…” His ears darkened again. “Deflate those?”

I blinked for a moment. “Deflate what?”

“Your mam mounds.”

My snort rang out. “Mam mounds, huh?”

“Orc females don’t have them. When our younglings are born, tubes extend from their chests to feed our infants.”

“No tubes here.” I didn't think my face could get any hotter, but mam mounds? “They're called breasts.”

“Breasts,” he echoed, still frowning. “Can breasts be deflated?”