Page 92 of Rough Riding Orc Cowboy

“You stare at it like you're worried it’s going to disappear,” I said, nudging his arm with my elbow.

His gaze didn’t waver from mine. “It won’t. It’s a promise.”

Heat spread through my chest. Weeks had passed since my life changed forever, and every day, he looked at me like I was something precious he’d never expected to find.

I lifted his hand and kissed his mating mark. “It is.”

A stack of letters sat on the small wooden table beside us, their envelopes worn from frequent handling. Ruugar had chuckled the first time I made him read one out loud, his deep voice stumbling over Joel’s dramatic retelling of our adventure, calling our orc cowboy romance one for the ages. Mary had sworn she’d return with a whole new group, promising to bring more people to Lonesome Creek for trail rides. They weren’t tourists anymore. They were friends.

Shifting closer, I rested my head against Ruugar’s shoulder. The rocking chair beneath us groaned as it eased back and forth. Back and forth.

“Do you think they’ll really come back?” I asked.

“If only to see if I’ve truly tamed my runaway bride.”

Snorting, I poked his side. “Tamed? If anything, you’re the one who’s gone soft.”

He growled, and the sound made my pulse skip. “Try me, Breela.”

That name still melted everything inside me. I turned to face him fully, resting my hands on his broad chest. My mating mark tingled as he resumed his slow tracing, like he needed to feel it, reassure himself I was real.

“I was thinking,” I said.

His eyes flicked to mine. “About vacuums, right?”

My laugh snorted out. “I'm quite good with the vacuum.” When I used it. Laundry too. And yes, there were tons of YouTube videos showing how to use a washer and dryer.

But Ruugar cleaned the house more than me,insisting it was orc tradition for the male of the family to keep the house tidy. Cooking too.

Women were going to go wild when they found out.

“Actually, I was thinking about our home,” I said.

His brows tightened. “You still like it, don't you?”

It had taken him some time to get used to the idea that he was more than enough.

“It’s perfect, but someday soon, we might need a little more room.”

Confusion flickered across his face before realization dawned, his eyes widening. For once, Ruugar, my always-steady, always-grounded orc, looked truly stunned. His grip on my wrist tightened. “I…” His voice was hushed. “Soon?” A rare, breathtaking smile broke across his face, full of fierce tenderness. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close.

“Well, in eight or so months. Think that's enough time? I mean, babies?—”

“Orclings.”

I nodded. “Yes, our orcling.”

“Ours,” he hummed.

“Can start in our bedroom, but eventually, we'll want to move him or her out.”

“A female first. They're the most amazing.”

So sweet. Most guys were all over that male, heir to the throne thing. I loved that Ruugar wasn't.

“I'll get started adding to our home tomorrow,” he said.

“We have plenty of time.”

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