Page 59 of Wrangling the Orc Cowboy

“I’ll make something with chumble and drundeg,” he said, standing in front of the open fridge.

“I’ve never eaten chumble before. Or drundeg either.”

“Drundeg is a wild beast similar to a boar.” He removed a package and two “eggs” the size of a cat’s head from the refrigerator. “I’ll make a quiche. They’re quite popular in the orc kingdom, though we don’t call them that name.”

“What’s quiche in orcish?”

“Zeckadon.”

“Cool.” I watched as he carefully cracked eggs, pouring the surprisingly green insides into a big bowl. “About my redness…” He was so concerned and caring, and I didn’t want to cause him distress. “I’ll rest it. You can tackle me again tomorrow if you want. That’ll be enough time to…heal.” Not that I truly needed to heal, but he appeared to think so.

That comment only brought on his frown. Really, I felt fine. Maybe a tiny bit sore down there, but that was to be expected. He was much larger than me. But we’d made it fit, and it felt so amazing I could easily be persuaded to spread myself wide once again.

“We’ll see.” Was all he said.

It didn’t take him long to make the quiche, though he cooked it on the surface of the stove, kind of steaming it, and without a crust. We were soon sitting across from each other at the table. He shared stories of the chumbles, how some youngling orcs rode them for fun. From his description, I pictured huge ostriches—only with pink scales instead of feathers. Claws and fangs, but that seemed to be the norm for the orc kingdom.

“To obtain the eggs,” he said, “you have to dive beneath them when they’re distracted and then crawl out with an egg that’s the size of a fist.” He’d held his up. “And then run before they bite you and take the egg back.”

“I imagine their bite hurts.”

He shrugged. “Just a peck. Nothing to be concerned about. We’ve already brought some chumbles to the surface. Their eggs are a delicacy, and children will be excited to ride them.”

I wasn’t so sure about that. Well, some brave kids would be all over it, but their parents?

“Make sure you make everyone sign informed consents,” I said.

He nodded. “We’ve consulted lawyers. They’ve got everything covered. And we have insurance.”

That must cost more than an arm and a leg.

The chumble quiche tasted amazing, the egg holding a slightly nutty flavor and the drundeg tasting like bacon.

We finished and did the dishes, and then he walked with me up to my room. I wanted to invite him inside but…redness.

“Sleep,” he said, stroking a strand of hair off my face. “I’ll make something amazing for you to try in the morning.”

With that, he turned and strode from view. I took in his confident stride, the straight line of his spine and shoulders, and smiled at the way he whistled through his tusks.

That hat on his head was so sexy.

Nothing beats an orc cowboy.

Inside, I started the water in the tub. A nice soak would fix his biggest concern.

And then I could lure him into my room in the morning.

When I gotup the next morning, I didn’t find him waiting downstairs, just his aunt and two women.

“I’m Rosey,” a woman with blue eyes and dark brown hair with golden highlights hanging past her shoulders said, hurrying over to join me at the bottom of the stairs. “This is Jessi.” She waved to the woman with curly brown hair hanging to her shoulders who joined us with Aunt Inla beaming behind her.

“So nice to meet you.” Jessi gave me a sweet smile. “We came to introduce ourselves and have breakfast with you. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” I discreetly peered around them, looking for Tark. Was he inside the kitchen?

Aunt Inla’s grin fell. “If you’re looking for Tark, he left.”

My heart jolted, and I lifted my eyebrows. Had he gone on a supply run or something? “Left?”

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