Page 7 of How To Woo A Warrior Orc

“Do you see her?” the woman asks in a hushed tone. “Tell me you can see her.”

Ahhhh. I nod to myself, the woman’s appearance suddenly making perfect sense. She’s frightened, and Violet nudges her with her nose, the woman automatically petting the deer again.

“What do you see?” I ask her in an even, calm tone.

Outside, thunder rumbles, close enough to shake the glass, and the woman in the corner jumps at the noise.

“Nothing,” she says quickly, dropping her gaze to the pink polka dots on the table. “I should go.”

“Nonsense,” I tell her sternly. “It’s about to pour.”

No sooner have I said the words than the comforting pitter patter of rain begins to ping on the glass.

I sigh, the woman staring up at me with huge, terrified eyes.

No wonder the store is still near-empty—anyone with any sense has stayed home as the storm brewed above Wild Oak Woods.

“The storm has nothing to do with what you’re seeing, and neither do I,” I tell her gently, bringing her a heavy plate ladenwith a sandwich and pickle, as well as some deep-fried potato slices that Ga’Rek loves to make, and my customers love to eat.

“How… how do you know what I’m seeing?” Her face turns so pale that the remnants of summer freckles stand out. “I’m not seeing anything.”

She says the last part so fast and looks down at Velvet in a way that tells me very clearly that she is lying, and that she is not a good liar.

I set the plate down in front of her.

“Ga’Rek,” I call out. “No need to make more sandwiches. Come have lunch with us.”

“I was working on something else,” he yells from the kitchen. “I made it for you.”

My heart squeezes, and I stare at the arched opening to the kitchen. “You made me something? What?”

“You’ll see,” he grumbles. “Might be an abomination.”

He emerges holding a plate piled high with the deep-fried potatoes—except they’re smothered in melted cheese, and…

“Is that… bacon pieces? And green onions?” I ask, confused. It smells amazing. It’s a far cry from the usual hunk of bread and jam I scarf down, and my stomach grumbles.

I think I forgot to eat today.

“You need food,” he tells me, setting it down on the pink polka-dotted table. “I’ll bring the drinks.”

The woman’s staring up at Ga’Rek, her mouth wide open.

“This is Ga’Rek,” I tell her. “He’s an orc, and he’s my friend, and I’m a witch, and you are too. I assume that’s why you’re here, hmm? Your abilities just began manifesting?” I make the questions as gentle as possible, because she’s as skittish as can be.

Rain pelts the windows, and Ga’Rek ambles back over as she stares at us, and then the plate of food in front of her.

He sets a plate piled high with ham sandwiches at the neighboring table, giving us space and the illusion of privacy while also being an arm’s length away.

It’s incredible how he does that, makes himself seem harmless and comfortable, despite his intimidating size and bulk. A little sigh comes out of me, and I tear my eyes away from him to focus back on the newcomer.

“Let’s start with the easy part,” I say, taking one of the fried potatoes laden in cheddar and popping it in my mouth. My eyes widen, and when I glance over at Ga’Rek, he’s grinning widely at me.

It’s delicious. Salty with the sharp bite of green onion and the rich, sweet flavor of bacon.

It’s nothing like what I normally serve here, but I can’t deny the fact this would be an instant winner.

“I knew you’d like it,” he says in a low voice.

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