Page 42 of Buck Wild Orc Cowboy
“I have an idea for something we can do to incorporate the bakery into tourist activities. InOklahoma, there’s a picnic basket auction scene. We could try something like that in town. Let the tourists join in. Donate the proceeds.”
My brow lifted. “It sounds charmingly chaotic.”
“I’ll donate a basket.”
I smirked. “Oh? And who do you think would bid for it?”
He shrugged. “Probably no one.”
“Yeah, right,” I said. “You’re tall, gorgeous, mysterious. I bet there’ll be plenty of women throwing their money at that basket for a chance to share lunch with you.”
He looked at me sideways, his expression unreadable, except for the twitch at the corner of his mouth. “That seems unlikely.”
“Please.” I flicked a towel toward his arm. “They’ll be sword-fighting each other for the chance.”
He let out a low laugh. “Maybe I’ll make it an orc-style challenge, then. Last one standing wins.”
“Careful.” I pretended to wipe the counter again so he wouldn’t see the flush climbing my cheeks. “You might start a stampede.”
But even as I joked, the thought of someone else winning time with Sel made a knot form in my chest. I didn't like how quickly the feeling bloomed. Jealousy wasn’t a luxury I could give myself. Not when life was about paying rent and keeping Max fed.
So why did the idea of another woman laughing beside him, sharing bites of lunch while he leaned in close, feel like a punch in the ribs?
I didn’t have an answer. Not one I wanted to hear, that is.
But the jealousy was still there, hidden beneath my smile.
Chapter 13
Sel
The sun had dipped low enough to create long shadows in the yard. A few crickets had started chirping, and the breeze carried the scent of sun-warmed grass. I led Max and Holly to the wide patch near the fence where the ground was flat, and the soft grass offered a safe place to start their training.
“This won’t be like in the streaming images,” I said, stopping and turning to face them. “Real self-defense starts way before anyone touches you.” I grunted. “We also won't be working with swords yet.”
Max groaned. “Can't we, please?”
I grinned. “Not until I say you're ready. Just like orc training, you'll need to earn the right to wield the sword.”
“Okay,” he grumbled.
Holly stood to the side, her arms crossed on her chest. I didn’t think she was cold. No, she was holding herself in. I suspected she’d done something similar to this before, braced in this way, waiting for ugly things to happen. I looked away too quickly, as if not seeing it would make it less true.
“First rule.” I kept my voice steady, feeding the instructions slow enough to let them sink in. “Is not to fight if you don’t haveto. The safest choice is to avoid danger altogether. You don’t win by being strong or fast. You win by not being where someone can cause you harm.”
Max shifted his weight, watching my every move. “How do you know a situation’s dangerous before it happens?”
A good question. “You don’t always. But you watch. You listen. You pay attention to small things, say, the tone of their voice, how close they’re standing, what your belly says. If something feels off or scary, it probably is.”
He nodded again.
I gestured toward the scrubby trees on the far edge of the yard. “Watch for a way out at all times. Like those trees. You could run and put them between you and the other person.”
Max frowned. “But they're little.”
“If the other person has to make more moves to get around something to get to you, that gives you more time. When you're walking or even in your own yard, keep an eye on who’s around you. If someone makes you uncomfortable, move. Put space between yourself and them. You don’t owe anyone your time. Tell them to leave you alone and loudly. People like that don't want to draw attention, because they know if you're yelling, others are looking and might even help. They need you vulnerable.”
“And if they don’t back off when you do that?” Max’s voice came out hollow. Quiet.
