Page 33 of My Orc in Uniform

“Hey, stop,dkaar.” MyKteerwas growling with frustration at the helplessness I was feeling. “This ismyfault for distracting you. I’m sorry.” There. I said it. “I shouldn’t have kissed you—”

“I shouldn’t haveletyou kiss me!” she all but shrieked, turning back to me, rolling the sleeves of my shirt up past her hands. “I can’t believe I—”

When she bit off her words, I stared, a pit of dread opening in my stomach.

“You…didn’t want me to kiss you?” I whispered.

She groaned again and turned away, pulling on her hair again. “I like you, Simbel. Alot. But this is what happens when I let myself have fun! When I act all immature and irresponsible, something goes wrong! I’m amother, for God’s sake! I can’t be running around after dark, kissing a guy! Oh,fuck! Patrick!”

MyKteerdidn’t like the sound of her kissinganyonebesides me, but I stepped up to her and caught her hand. “What is it? What are you afraid of?”

I’d left my headlamp on the boat, turned to lantern mode, and that allowed me to see the anguish on her face when she turned to me.

“Patrick is alone at Ethan’s! It’s a Saturday night, and I’m not going to be home until at least one in the morning!” With another groan of anguish, she dropped her forehead to my chest. “Whoknowswhat kind of mischief they’re going to get up to?”

Although my heart was breaking for her panic, a part of me appreciated that she’d turned to me, relied on me, in her distress. “Oh,dkaar,” I murmured, rubbing my hand up her spine. “Trick is a good kid. I mean it. He’s smart and will make good decisions. I know it.”

“How?” she wailed against my chest. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Because.” I dropped a kiss to her head. “You raised him, didn’t you? You taught him how to be a good person. He’s trying to influence his group of friends, yeah? Even if you’re not at home with him on a Saturday night, he’ll remember what you taught him.”

She didn’t answer for a long time, but I felt her shoulders slowly relax. She sniffed once or twice but didn’t lift her head. I hoped this was a good sign, and the panic was abating.

Luckily, the night was relatively warm for spring, especially stuck out in the Atlantic Ocean, and I knew how to keep us warmer. “Come on,” I murmured, tugging herback toward the boat. “Let’s get cozy. We have a few hours until I can push us back into the water.”

She went along uncomplainingly, and I arranged one of the blankets along the hull, in the lee of the wind. After making sure she was settled on it and rooting through the cooler, I loped up toward the high-water mark, where the tides had deposited bleached driftwood.

The lighthouse—long ago automated and abandoned—collected detritus and dunes, and I was quickly able to gather an armful of dried driftwood and dried grasses. Once back by the boat, I arranged them in a pattern I hadn’t thought of in ten years.

“Heh,” I snorted, as I struck the match and laid it against the tinder. “I can’t believe I used to do this all the time. I think this is the first campfire I’ve made since I’ve come to your world. I would’ve killed for matches back then.”

Rissa made a little noise, but when I glanced at her, she was staring down at the unopened bottle of water she was holding between her palms, her knees all drawn up as she huddled against the boat’s hull.

“Oh,dkaar,” I murmured, my heart squeezing for her. I hurried to get a blaze going and then, when it was roaring merrily—the salt-soaked wood caused the flames to jump and sizzle—I crawled over to her side.

My chest ached with the need to comfort her, but I also didn’t want to presume. “Rissa?” When she finally glanced up, her expression gaunt, I opened my arms. “Can I help?”

Without a word, she crawled into my lap.

I sighed in relief and wrapped my arms around her, resting my chin on her head. “I’m sorry,” I said again. “I was having a really nice time.”

“Me too,” she sniffed. “I wish…”

When she trailed off, myKteerbegan to whine in fear. “What?” I prompted, praying to the old gods that she wasn’t going to blurtI wish I’d never come.

Instead, she sighed. “I wish I could still be having a nice time.” She tipped her head back and offered me a small smile. “A beautiful night, a campfire, and a hot guy? I should be enjoying myself. Instead, I’m worried sick about Patrick.”

“He’ll be fine, Rissa, I promise.” I began to rub her arm, and she let out a little noise—was it agreement?—and sort of tipped sideways to press her cheek against my shoulder.

“He’s a good kid,” she whispered.

My lips curled ruefully as I lifted my hand to her shoulder and began to rub it. “He is. And you’re an amazing mother who has done a great job of raising him.”

“He likes you.” She paused. “I think…you could be good for him.”

“I want nothing more than that,dkaar.”

I froze as soon as the words had left my mouth, unsure how much I had confessed. Unsure what she’d noticed.

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