Page 10 of My Orc (Secret) Boss

I was staring at the rack of seeds behind the counter, not really seeing it, thinking about the way I was going to feel with that ridged monster inside me, when the bell over the door tinkled.

Blushing? You’d better believe it. I spun around and lunged for the counter, grabbing up a barcode scanner and pretending like I was hard at work and not fantasizing about anyone in particular…when I realized who’d just walked intoThe Garden Shop.

Memnon.

And to say “walked in” would overlook the opportunity to use “stomped in” or “stalked in” or merely “scowled his way into my shop.”

Because the seven-foot-tall green hunk of male stomping-stalking-scowling his way toward me didnotlook happy to be there. MyHelp Wantedflyer was clenched in his fist.

“Hi,” I blurted as he rocked to a stop on the other side of the counter. “I’m wearing my contacts today.”

His dark gaze dragged down my body, taking in my serviceable work pants—the ones with all the pockets!—and the possibly-too-tight-t-shirt with the shop’s logo over my breast. I’d screwed up the ordering but wore this one anyhow.

I saw his nostrils flare just slightly, but then he met my eyes. “You’re hiring.”

It wasn’t a question.

Before I could respond, he plopped the scrunched-up flyer on the counter. “You’re hiring me.”

“You?” My brows rose in surprise. And then, realizing how rude that sounded, I hurried to blurt, “I mean, yeah. Sure. Are you…” I hesitated. “You need a job?”

“Nope.” He settled back on his heels and glanced around the store. “But I can dig holes.”

Ah.

My heart was hammering in my chest, and I was certain my cheeks were warm. Howwild, to have him stomp in here moments after I was thinking of him—No!Nothim!I wasn’t thinking ofhimper se, justanyorc, really. Or rather, my orc dildo! Yeah, not Memnon,necessarily.

You’re blathering.

It was impossible toblatherin one’s internal monologue, wasn’t it?

It’s totally possible, and you’re doing it.

Ah.

Well.

I mean, who could blame me? Justlookat him! Tall, strong, with forearms I practically salivated to feel. And his hair was thick and dark, just like mine. The first time I saw it down, I wanted to braid it. Is that silly?

Memnon moved with a certainty that I’d never seen a male of my own species match. Sure, he was pretty dang anti-social, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t admire him from afar, right?

He’d spent years putting his life on the line to make the world a better place, and ifthatwasn’t sexy, I don’t know what was.

That thought led to another, and I realized I had to ask the question. He was standing there at my counter, arms crossed, studying the rows of seedlings and tools.

“Um…your injury…” I began. I knew he’d been hurt at the Christmas parade—it had happened right outside my shop, actually, but I didn’t know the details. “Will you?—”

And that was all I got out before he swung that fierce scowl on me, and I shut my mouth.

He looked as if he wanted to curse at me or stomp out again. Instead, though, he took a deep breath and schooled his expression. “It’s healing. I do exercises.” Was that what he’d been doing late last night on the stairs? “The doctor says it’ll heal better if I…get out and do some work.”

Ah. Sothatwas why he was applying for the job. Wait,applying? He’d just marched in here andannouncedhe would be working for me. I mean, I like confidence as much as the next gal, but how did I know he was right for the job?

I sighed and cocked my hip against the counter. “Look, Memnon, I’m sorry, but I have to ask: Have you ever worked in a garden or floral shop before?”

“Nope.” He didn’t look away. “But you’re not hiring me to work in a floral shop. You’re hiring me to help with the landscaping.”

That was true.

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