Page 17 of One Forbidden Night with Her Orc Boss

“I have led this team for almost a decade. I have never felt more fear than today. Not because I don’t trust your skills, but because I knew that I wouldn’t recover if something happened to you.”

She looks up at me, her dark eyes round with surprise. “So all this,” she waves one hand around the kitchen, “is because you were afraid?” A sharp eyebrow, pursed lips that tug up at the end—is she making fun of me?

“No, this is because I told you I would go slow for you. And that I would prove that I’m here for you and Lucy. And cooking seemed like a safe way to spend time with Lucy.”

“Safe?” she laughs. I see Lucy perk up and look at us at hearing her mom’s laugh. That little girl notices everything. I want her to see me love her and her mom and treat them both with the respect and care they deserve.

“Relatively speaking.” I clear my throat. “Besides, you needed my mom’s curry in you after today. I thought you were going to fall asleep sitting in the chair.”

“So you left me!” Another half-laugh.

“I did. You were taking forever. It was time to get Lucy.” I shrug.

“And how do you know when I need to get Lucy?” She pulls away a little to get a better look at me.

“Because Natasha, I pay attention.” I kiss behind her ear, that sweet spot that made her gasp the night on the bench. Another gasp. Perfection. Gods, I love the way her name rolls off my tongue. The sounds she makes as her body reacts to me.

The timer goes off. Breaking apart from Natasha, I call out, “Alright, Lucy! Time for cookies!” She squeals and jumps out of her chair, almost taking a tumble, then slides across the slick wooden floor to me. She looks between us with the most adoring smile on her face.

“Cookies!” she shrieks as I open the oven door, wafts of cookie scent floating out. They are a four-year-old’s masterpiece of lopsidedness and rainbow sprinkle madness.

Cookies cooling, next batch in. A plate with three, along with a glass of milk for Lucy, equals perfection in a new way for me. We sit together on the small sofa, Lucy wedged between us. After her cookie, Natasha yawns, then sets her head down on my shoulder, Lucy happy to be squished.

It’s small. Ordinary. Mundane. Quotidian. And it’s perfect. My heart swells at the goodness of it all. The simplicity. We don’t need flashy or adrenaline pumping. We just need cookies and snuggles.

Soon, Natasha is sleeping on me, breathing softly. Lucy wriggles out from under us to go get a toy. Carefully, I carry Natasha to her bed and tuck her in, then run to grab the next tray of cookies out of the oven.

I play the whispering game with Lucy, and she helps me package up the cookies for her school tomorrow and repack her little sparkly pink backpack. She stays busy until she isn’t. A big yawn, and she declares she’s tired. Three minutes later, she’s in jammies. “Read me a story, please?”

Oh gods. I don’t think I’m ready for story time. Gulping hard, I nod at her and she grabs my finger and drags me down the hall to her room. She tells me where to sit—the pink chair. What book to read—If you give an Orc a Cookie.I’ve never heard of that one. Snorting, expecting something ridiculous, I open and read while Lucy snuggles under her covers.

By the end of the book, she’s happy to roll over and sleep, and I’m stunned and slightly teary-eyed. I have the strangest feeling I need to call my father and talk this over with him.

Chapter 11

Tasha

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