Page 27 of Buck Wild Orc Cowboy
“Then the kiss?—”
“That was…” He sat back again, exhaling. “That wasn’t about a place to stay.”
I truly looked at him then.
His gaze held mine. “That was something else.”
Something else?
My heart thumped a little faster.
Sel didn’t blink. Didn’t look put off. His head shook once. “I’d never suggest anything like that. If I'm with someone again, it'll be because we both want it, not because someone owes me.”
His gaze slid from mine, but I sensed he did it for a reason other than the old, if you're not looking at someone you must be lying thing.
He’d had a mate already. She’d died with their youngling. A true tragedy. He may have loved her deeply. The loss must still haunt him.
“I enjoyed our kiss,” he said, holding my gaze. “I’d like to kiss you again. But only if it’s something you want.”
Oh. Well. My face heated. Not spontaneous after all?
I tightened my fingers around the mug, though not from nerves anymore. This male was so sincere, so earnest and sweet. He was stating what he wanted but not putting any pressure on me, which I appreciated.
“When did your first mate die?” A touchy subject to bring up, but I wanted to know everything about him.
“Three years ago.”
He wasn't over it. Who ever got over something like that? But maybe he was ready to try again.
I wasn't sure I was, however. I might never be ready to let someone new into my life.
“You don’t owe me,” he said. “You’re working for your place here. Freely. That’s enough.”
The back of my neck prickled, a leftover habit of checking for things behind me that weren’t there anymore, but I let myself breathe again.
His eyes settled on mine. His hands remained still, folded loosely in his lap. It was only then that I noticed the circular, golden tattoo etched on the inside of his left wrist. I didn’t remember seeing it before. I must’ve missed it.
“So…” I cleared my throat and carefully placed the mug on the coffee table between us. “About Max. You said he could stay here during the day, while I’m at the bakery.”
“He’s welcome here. Any time. I understand why you're careful with him. I'd be the same way. If it makes it easier for you, you can come back for lunch if you want. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.”
“That’s kind of you.” But mother-mode had already kicked in again. “One worry is the sorhoxes. Max is fearless.” Protective, too, which was the final straw with Melvin. My son tried to stand between us and Melvin… Well, I didn't want to think about that.
“I've seen that in him already.”
That made me grin. “I don't want to mute his bravery, but we should set some ground rules so he knows what’s okay and what’s not.”
He shifted on the couch, leaning back. “He can walk along the edge of the pasture if he stays on the path. He’s free to watch the sorhoxes at any time. I could show him how to open the gate, and he could call to Brelar, bring him out for a solid brushing. As you saw, Brelar’s gentle. But no riding. Not for a long time yet. Not until he has one of us with him.”
I nodded. Absolutely no problem there.
“With your permission, I could work with him during the evenings. Teach him safety around beasts of that size. How they move. What not to do, especially around the younglings. Once he shows he understands and not just by listening, but really getting it, we can talk about supervised riding. I could also show him what I'm doing with the young ones. For now, I'm getting them used to my touch and to walking on a harness.”
“How big are the young ones?”
“Well.” His tusky smile bloomed, and even something as simple as that made butterflies flit through my belly. “They're big. Not quite as tall as him, but sorhoxes are gentle in general. Sure, they can be protective, especially around their young, but they've been domesticated for many generations, and we've bred the meanness out of them.”
“I appreciate that you’re thinking that far ahead,” I said. “Teaching him the right way.”
