Page 34 of Wrangling the Orc Cowboy

“I wasn’t sure what he ate,” Gracie said. “But he enjoyed the muffin this morning, so I left some food in the pan for him. Let me go grab it.”

It didn’t take her long to scoop up a generous portion for Sharga, who watched her intently, his head cocking this way and that. She placed the plate in front of him on the counter and he eyed it before he started pecking.

She was so pretty when she smiled. “He likes it.” After lightly stroking Sharga’s feathers, she rejoined me at the table. As she lifted her fork, he kept pecking, releasing a low rumble from his throat.

She watched him eat. “I’ve never been this close to a bird before. He’s amazing. I’m so glad you rescued him.”

“He’s my friend.” One of my few friends if I didn’t count my brothers. They were family. We loved each other, but it wasn’t quite the same thing.

“Sometimes, pets make the best friend,” she said almost sadly. “They rarely judge you.”

“Who has judged you?” I wasn't a violent orc, but the thought of anyone making Gracie feel sad made me want to go on a rampage with swords flashing. Orcs hadn't done that for many generations.

“Everyone.” She sucked in a breath and new words burst out. “I mean no one.”

“Who?” The word came out softer, but my need to rampage still churned through me.

“I like it here. I feel…accepted.”

“Was it your parents?” It wouldn't be good to kill them. She might protest. “The people you worked with making the streaming images?” Them, I could kill.

“Both. But I've put all that behind me.” She straightened in her chair. “I'm an influencer now. Working for one of the hottest new tourist destinations in the country.”

I frowned. “Who?”

Her low laugh rang out. “Lonesome Creek Ranch, of course.”

“Oh, yes, us. Me. Us.”

“Yes you. I have so many ideas already. I'll write them down when I get to my room and put my plan in motion tomorrow. You're going to be so busy, you won't know how to handle all the visitors coming to this town.”

“We do want to be busy.”

“This place is going to stun them. They'll be booking their next vacation before they finish the first.”

“All from social media?” I couldn't quite process how that could be possible. Surely what I'd done so far had only driven them away.

“Wait and see. You'll be very happy with what we can do together.” She waved her fork toward my meal. “Now take a bite. You're going to love it.”

Gracie leaned forward, sliding her fork into the food and bringing it to her mouth. She chewed and wiggled in her seat.

My cock kicked up, a totally inappropriate thing to do in this situation, and I scowled down at it, telling it to behave.

“Is everything alright?” Gracie asked.

“Fine,” I squeaked, hating how nervous I sounded. At least she couldn't see my cock pressing against the front of my pants--all from her doing something as simple as enjoying her meal.

The quiet scrape of Sharga’s beak on his plate filled the room. Turning my attention to my own food, I stared down at it, uncertain. The whitish blobs and green things that curled gently like blades of grass puzzled me most, though the red fingers…

My gut tightened, not from hunger, but from confusion. Were humans savages in secret? They must be if they ate each other's fingers. No, theycouldn’tdo something like that. They’d have none left if that were the case.

“Humans don’t eat fingers,” I barked out, my brow furrowing as I started to lean closer to sniff at the plate. Then I froze, realizing I'd spoken the thought out loud. My gaze darted to Gracie, who was watching me with expectant eyes. Herexpression shifted, and she blinked at me like I’d just grown a third tusk. Heat rose in my cheeks, and I scrambled to find words to cover my embarrassment. “I—I mean, it looks very artistic. I'm sure this meal is special.”

Her lips twitched into a smile, and before I could retreat further into my panic, she leaned forward, reaching across the table to take my hand in hers. She was so small, her slim fingers barely managing to curl halfway around mine. Her warmth seeped into my skin like sunlight warming the soil, chasing away every thought in my head except the awareness of her touch and the fact that my hand was far too large. All of me was too big for a delicate human like her.

My voice felt trapped somewhere in my chest.

She was touching me. Not jerking back. Not frowning. Actually touching me in a way that suggested she was trying to soothe me.

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