Page 15 of The Orc Chief’s Baker (Orc Mates Of Faeda #4)

And his palm was so deliciously warm. It was a lighter color than the rest of his dark skin, more of a bright green. There were white calluses and scars all over it.

She traced a particularly awful scar that ran from the top of his index finger to the bottom of his thumb. He was so lucky he hadn’t lost it.

The hand under her shivered, and she was reminded that he was a person as she jerked away. “Sorry! Very sorry. I don’t know why I keep forgetting myself around you.”

She could barely look him in the eye as she took the parchment back. “Let me change the numbers on this so you can use your own hand to measure.”

“Trinia.”

His voice felt like fire in her veins, and she helplessly looked up into his dark green eyes. “Yes?”

His light smile made her stomach flip-flop. “I like it when you forget yourself.”

She forced herself to focus all her attention back on the diagram even as her heart was hammering and her mind was quailing and her eyes kept flitting to where he stood, tall and strong and focused directly on her.

Her breath caught. This male was a warrior . He couldn’t possibly be flirting with her.

Could he?

“I’ll just fix these up over... uh...” She pointed to a nearby boulder with a semi flat top and settled down with her charcoal pencil.

She busied herself with the calculations, determined to take a moment to catch her breath and let her mind stop reeling. She moved from one diagram to the next, steadily working through the stack until she was on the final one.

“This one would be almost five of your hand widths long.” Trinia tapped her charcoal pencil on the boulder. Was that going to be too big? He didn’t seem worried about the amount of metal, but?—

A broken hiss of pain yanked her right out of her thoughts, and she straightened up to find that Brovdir was holding willow spike of all things!

“Fades! Uh—” She fished into the pocket of her skirt to find her handkerchief as the orc’s face screwed up with pain. He dropped the deceptively lovely red flowers as his hand swelled up. His dark green skin was mottled with pock marks where the dozens of barbs had dug into his flesh.

He sucked more air between his clenched teeth and went to wipe his hand on his pants.

“Don’t!” She rushed over and grabbed his forearm above the wrist which had started to swell. “Those barbs are so sticky! You’ll get them all over your pants and they’ll be harder to get out than a raspberry jam stain.”

Biscuits, what possessed him to touch a willow spike root?

She looked down at the plant in confusion.

It was rather pretty. The bright red petals cascaded into yellow at the stem.

It carried this gradient pattern all the way down to its barbs, which began at the roots.

She used her foot to cover them up with dirt.

This plant was totally harmless unless you pulled it up. Why had he pulled it up?

The orc let out a loud huff, and she looked up to find that he appeared a little less pained than before. She stroked his warm arm gently. She knew how bad those barbs stung. “Do you have any healing tinctures on you? The stinging can last for more than a day without treatment.”

Brovdir shifted his weight. “Goes away on its own?”

Her brows pinched. “Well, yes, eventually. If you get the barbs out.”

He shrugged then, and she blinked in shock. “No need to waste a tincture.”

“But it must hurt terribly! And you won’t be able to use your hand at all until it’s healed.”

“How do we remove them?” Brovdir used his free hand to point to one of the black spiked barbs that were stuck deep into his palm.

“Don’t pull them, they have hooks on the end. You should probably go back to the clan and get Hovget.” The orc healer would have a better idea of what to do.

Brovdir shook his head so hard it made his shaggy hair flop. “No need. Don’t mind pulling.”

“No wait! That really will only make it worse.” She continued to stroke his arm gently, hoping the touch would distract him from the pain. She was rewarded with a little huff from him as he released some tension. “Just let me think...”

She glanced around the forest, trying to come up with something to help... and then it dawned on her.

“Oh! The spring! Come to the Fade spring. It will heal you.”

Brovdir’s face lit with relief. “One is near?”

“Yes, I think right through there, actually.” She pointed toward some thick underbrush. “We’ll have to find a way around...”

Brovdir placed a hand to the small of her back and her skin instantly warmed beneath her dress. “What is it?”

Seeing her surprise, he let her go. “Follow.”

“Follow,” she repeated dumbly as he moved toward the thicket. “Follow you into the brambles? I don’t understand.”

But she should have, because a moment later, Brovdir was bashing right through the middle of the bushes, making a path so wide she could walk through without her skirts getting snagged.

Trinia could do nothing but hurry after him and marvel at the brute efficiency of the male. “I suppose this is one way to get there.”

He shot her a wide grin over his shoulder and her heart jumped in her chest.

When they finally broke through the brush, Trinia let out a sigh of relief. The spring before them looked crisp and clear and a little higher than usual. Which was odd because, although it was near winter, they hadn’t had much rain. It was bubbling up from beneath more too.

Despite those few oddities, it was beautiful.

The gold and red trees swayed in the breeze above them and reflected on the blue pool below.

The surface was dappled with sunlight making the water seem to glitter.

The rocky shore was made inviting by the thick layers of green moss that covered the hard surfaces.

Brovdir let out a hum of approval and moved up toward the left side where there was a flat boulder to perch on. Trinia quickly followed and had only just gotten up onto the rock when Brovdir dipped his hand in.

He let out a long sigh of relief as the water engulfed his hand. The swelling had already gone down and a few of the barbs popped free on their own.

The magic of the spring worked wonders for orcs. She wished it healed humans too.

She crouched back slightly, adjusting on the slippery rocks. “Why did you pull up that willow root?”

The poor orc’s cheeks instantly darkened with embarrassment, and he darted his eyes away from her.

Adorable.

She cleared her throat and pushed down the odd thought even as her fingers itched to brush his shaggy hair away from his forehead. “It’s such a common plant. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize it before you picked it.”

“Never seen it.”

Shock struck her. “Really? Never ?”

He shook his head. “None outside Rove. Things don’t grow well.”

Oh. She’d forgotten.

She shifted her weight slightly to try to get better traction on the moss and wondered just how bad things really were outside of these woods. Was it true the ground was ashen, and people were starving? Was it true most of the villages had moved behind huge stone walls as the wars raged on?

Brovdir’s hand was looking better by the moment, but the crisp water accentuated the many white, puckered scars on his hands. He’d led such an incredibly hard life, and this forest was like a whole new world.

“Perhaps I should teach you about the plants, so something like this doesn’t happen again,” she said softly, looking around at what was growing here at the water’s edge.

“Then you would know what was poisonous or barbed. You’d know what was and wasn’t good to eat too.

Take that, for example.” She pointed to the cattail hovering right near his face.

Brovdir’s gaze shifted from her to the brown, sausage-shaped plant and before she could utter one more word, he’d plucked it and taken a bite.

“Wait!”

The plant’s fuzz exploded in his mouth.

Brovdir coughed and sputtered as a massive plume of fuzzy hairs stuck to his lips and tongue. He spat them out, but the spittle only made them stick more. He scrubbed at his mouth with his free hand.

And Trinia couldn’t help it. She burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry!” She barely managed between fits. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think—I didn’t know you would—” She should have guessed , though! The plant did look like a sausage on a stick. Of course he’d try to eat it.

The mental picture of him biting down on the fluff, his eyes shooting wide, his brows rising, and his body going rigid with regret—she couldn’t stop laughing. She gripped her stomach as tears streamed down her cheeks.

And then her foot slipped on the moss. Her body tipped toward the icy water as she scrambled to get a good hold.

She was scooped up, right out of the air, and cradled to a hard wall of muscle so warm it felt like jumping into a fire pit.

She could barely catch her breath as Brovdir carried her away from the spring. He held her under her back and knees and didn’t look even the least bit troubled by her weight. His arms were thick with muscle and she had to clench her hands tight to keep from reaching out to see how firm they were.

“Y-you’re really strong, aren’t you?” The words slipped out before she could stop them.

Brovdir blinked wide, and biscuits bake her, he was so cute . Why was a warrior orc with all this rippling muscle and massive frame so cute ?

Her cheeks went so hot she was shocked they didn’t catch fire. “You can put me down. I’m not some dainty flower, you know?”

Brovdir’s fingers brushed against her side, right under the swell of her breasts. Her skin went hot and tingly, and she had to stop herself from squirming.

“I like it.”

She suddenly couldn’t get enough air as she searched his face. Was he mocking her?

“You’re sturdy.” He followed with a nod of determination. “And... soft.”

Sturdy and soft.

Her stomach fluttered and her mind reeled, and her thighs clenched together as if trying to fight her own reaction to such a delightful compliment.

Brovdir set her down on her feet and she continued to stare at him. She couldn’t help herself. His eyes were soft, and his brows were unfurrowed and he wore a light smile that made her giddy.

There was a bit of fluff still sticking out of the corner right next to his tusk.

“You, uh... you’ve got a little...” She tapped her own mouth, and he quickly brushed his mouth on the wrong side. “Oh, no, not there. Here, let me...”

She reached up and brushed the fluff away. His skin was so much softer than she expected. And he was so blasted tall. She had to stretch all the way up to reach.

There was a little more fluff in his hair too. “Lean down a little.”

In less than a flash of light, Brovdir had gone down onto his knees.

“Oh! No, you don’t have to—you’re going to get soaked!”

But he was already staring up at her with such an amused smile on his face that she couldn’t help stuttering to a halt. He really did look like a puppy when he was looking up at her like this. Huge eyes and shaggy hair.

She reached down to brush the fluff out of his hair. It was so soft, and his scalp was so warm, and he leaned into her touch slightly. Her heart skipped right over itself.

“I’m sorry for laughing,” she said, combing her fingers through his hair somewhat absently. He leaned into her touch further and his eyes softly shut.

He wasn’t bad looking by any stretch. The scars gave him a rugged charm and accentuated the dark green of his skin. His lashes were long and his jaw was square and... and...

What was she doing? She needed to stop ogling at him.

She released him and stepped back. His eyes opened somewhat lazily, and his smile widened when he looked at her.

“Thank you,” he rumbled and her whole stomach burst with happy flutters.

“O-of course!” she said. “Sorry again for um...”

“I like your laughter.”

Her cheeks went hot again.

“I’ll make your pans as a gift.”

As a... “What? Brovdir, no, you don’t have to do that!”

“I want to.”

“It’s too much!” Trinia wrung her hands. Fades, this male was far too generous. He was going to get taken advantage of. “Trades need to be fair, Brovdir. Promise me you won’t just give your skills away to anyone who asks.”

“Not anyone,” he said smoothly. “Just you.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

“Only for you, Trinia.” His voice was so warm and low and . . . and . . .

“I could just kiss you.”

Biscuits bake her! She had not meant to say that out loud! She may as well just go jump into the spring and drown herself.

But then a broad grin spread across the warrior orc’s face. All his teeth flashed and Trinia should not have been so thrilled at the sight of them. She should not have zinging anticipation coursing down her back and pooling between her legs.

“Yes.” His voice rumbled so low she actually felt it in her gut. “You may, Trinia of Oakwall.”

He sounded far too excited about it, and she couldn’t bring herself to deny him.

It was just one little kiss. Just a quick thank you for everything he’d promised to do. That he’d already done. He’d saved her life.

Her thighs clenched tight together and her mind reeled with delighted excitement.