Page 85 of The Orc Outcast's Mate

“Okay. Let’s move on to less heavy stuff. After taking care of me for so long, I think you deserve some pampering.”

“Pampering?”

“Don’t grumble at me. I felt your heart go all fluttery when I mentioned taking care of you.” His cheeks began to burn again, but she just shot him a smile and began to search the shelves. “I’m going to—wait, are these usually open?”

Frowning, Govek went to examine the window she’d indicated. In the summer, they were occasionally left cracked, but not during the winter when damp could easily get in. There was also a stack of blankets on top of a barrel beneath the window that seemed to have been knocked over.

“Do you think... Viravia went out that way? She’s awfully pregnant... she would have had to be desperate.” Miranda picked up some of the wool blankets and stacked them back up.

“I still do not...” He paused and took in another deep breath. Viravia’s scent was not present, but the scent of sage was a little stronger than usual and he knew the woman had an affinity for that herb. “I am not sure. We could find her and ask if you would like.”

“No, no. I’m going to cook for you.”

His heart began thundering again. “Cook for me?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You haven’t had anyone make you a meal before, have you?”

“Tavggol would occasionally bring me a plate of what was left after seasonal celebrations or larger meals at the hall.”

“Ooh, that’s not the same at all.” She grinned. “I’m excited. What do you like to eat?”

You. “Meat.”

“I should have guessed that.” She laughed and her delight soothed away a significant chunk of his tension. “Hmm... let’s see. I’m not a very good cook but I’m sure I can make something you’d really enjoy. Do you guys have cheese in here? And butter?”

Govek followed her deeper into the storeroom until she came across the vegetables.

“Oh, these aren’t in season, are they?” she asked, picking up a basket of strawberries.

“Anything can be grown with enough magic.”

“Ah, right.” She put it back down with a smile that tore at him. “Do you have a skillet in that kitchen of yours?”

“Yes.”

“Cool. How about the oven? How does it work? Can I control the temperature easily?”

“Yes. It’s controlled by magic and is quite precise.”

“Magic coming in for the win again,” she said, gathering up onions and peppers. “We need a basket. Is there bread around here?”

He fetched the basket, growing more excited by the moment. “What kind of bread?”

“Like, rolls? Oh, those would work.” She picked up some fist-sized rounds of sourdough. “How many do you think you could eat? Two, three?”

“Of those? Likely twenty.”

Miranda laughed again, and it lit his whole world. “We’ll take four. Cause I’m gonna put stuff on them.”

“On them?” But they were round, wouldn’t it fall off?

“Yup. I’ve got you all confused, don’t I? I’mma keep what I’m making a secret.” She shot him a smile that had him relaxing. Despite all the turmoil of this afternoon, Miranda’s babbling had soothed him.

After a few moments, she finally paused, tapping her chin. “You know, it is a shame to leave behind your kitchen. It’s really nice. And your house too. You clearly spent a lot of time on it.”

Only because he had nothing else to do. “Yes.”

“I wonder”—she fiddled with a head of lettuce—“Couldn’t we just...” She shrugged. “Live here?”

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