Page 11 of How To Woo A Warrior Orc

I miss her so much.

I press a hand to my heart as Velvet leans against me, sensing the change in my emotions.

It’s a funny thing, grief. Some days you hardly think of the ones you’ve loved and lost, smiling at a memory as it passes you by. Other days, it’s like this, a choking vise of misery that makes it hard to breathe.

“She’s not wholly gone,” I tell Velvet, rubbing the soft white star on her forehead as my familiar looks at me with her chocolate brown eyes. “No one ever really is.”

It’s true. Even without the aid of Violet’s visit, I know the ones I love live within me still. In memories, in the way I see my mother when I look in the mirror, in the way I can’t help but try and assist everyone that stops by the store.

I inhale, and begin walking along the fairly empty cobblestone streets.

The wind whips along the corridor made by the buildings, the few passersby braving the rainy conditions hustling along with their cloaks drawn up tight against their faces.

Velvet clops along next to me, her little white tail twitching every so often. Lost in my thoughts, it isn’t until I’m met with thesight of The Pixie’s Perch bustling with end-of-day customers that I’m hit full in the face by the reminder that a certain handsome orc is going to be sharing my home with me tonight. And for the next few nights, at least, until Violet finds a place of her own.

My palms cover my face and my cheeks are ridiculously hot because all I can think about is how much I’d like to tell him to share my bed instead of the room next to it.

I’m a kitchen witch, and I certainly recognize a recipe for disaster when I write one.

Unfortunately, I’m not always bright enough to avoid putting quill to parchment.

My brain feelsfull with thoughts and plans for the autumn festival as Velvet and I amble along our street. The magic-lit street lamps come on earlier than usual.

I should bedeck them with some kind of decoration, I decide.

A smile brightens my face, because I know Willow is just the witch to decide on some sort of pretty fall florals to adorn each street lamp. Maybe Nerissa can enchant them to glow a different color for the festival, too.

That would really be something.

By the time I reach The Pixie’s Perch, I’m in a much, much better mood, thoughts of all I have to accomplish racing through my head so fast it takes me a moment to realize how packed the café is.

My first instinct is one of delight, swallowed quickly by the panic of knowing that Ga’Rek must be swamped with orders.

I walk in, greeting the familiar faces and prepared to dive into work as soon as I’ve washed my hands, only to be taken aback.

Ga’Rek’s head’s thrown back in laughter, and Hank, a shaggy minotaur so tall his horns nearly scrape the ceiling, is laughing too, a box of pastries tucked under one arm.

The whole line’s lit up with amusement, and I soak it in for a long second: the happy faces of customers who don’t mind the wait, Ga’Rek a total natural behind the counter, and the smell of a bakery that’s my home.

I’m nearly knocked off my feet by the sheer feeling of rightness.

When Ga’Rek locks eyes with me, that sparkling laugh of his still hanging in the air, it feels as magical as anything I’ve ever experienced.

A smile kicks up the corners of my mouth in automatic response, and his gaze heats as he continues to watch me from over the minotaur’s shoulder.

I lift my chin, one eyebrow raised, a silent challenge he responds to by winking at me.

Winking! At me!

Well, how about that?

I purse my lips, making a beeline for the back of the store and the kitchen, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions that threaten to overwhelm me.

Ga’Rek is staying the night with me.

I need to decide what, exactly, that means.

I need to decide what, exactly, I want to do about my no-longer-inconsequential feelings for him.

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