Page 68 of Buck Wild Orc Cowboy
I gave him a look. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Maybe a little.” He nudged my elbow. “Let’s throw it out before it oozes out of the bowl and eats your arms.”
“I like these arms,” I said, trying not to laugh as I carefully carried the bowl out to the dumpster. “It won’t foam enough to fill the dumpster, will it?”
“Shouldn’t.”
I tipped it forward, and a blorp of the frothy white dough launched away from the bigger mass and landed on Sel’s groin with a splat.
I froze, horrified. “Oh my, Sel. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”
Sel blinked at his pants like a male trying to comprehend his new relationship with flour. He glanced up at me.
I bit my lip, bracing for some kind of reaction. I mean, Melvin would’ve backhanded me by now.
Instead, his shoulders started to shake with laughter. “The dough has spoken. It wants to be made into orcling puffs.”
I stared at him, then started laughing too, helpless, gasping laughter that bent me at the waist. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed like that. My ribs ached and my eyes watered.
“I’m sorry,” I wheezed. “I didn’t mean to make it look like you came all over your pants.”
“It might help my reputation around town.” He brushed it off and tossed it into the bin.
“I can’t imagine you having anything but an amazing reputation here.”
Even when he was covered in foam and pretending shock, he looked like someone I’d trust with the last slice of cake. That was new.
“Don’t talk to my brothers, then.”
But I wanted to. I’d pick their brains for everything they remembered about growing up with Sel.
We went back inside, and it hit me. No customers for now. We were alone. In a warm kitchen, surrounded by the smells ofbread and spices, his body inches from mine, his laughter still echoing in the space between us.
The moment turned quiet.
He stepped closer to me.
I swallowed, my heart thumping hard in my chest. “This isn’t fair. You’re much too appealing to resist.”
“Oh?” His voice was a little rougher now. “Care to share more?”
“I’m trying to be good.”
Sel brushed a flour-dusted strand of hair from my cheek. “You are such a good girl already.”
My breath caught. My brain short-circuited. I wasn’t overthinking it because I didn’t have the bandwidth to think at all.
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I went with the truth. “I like this too. What we’re building between us.”
He nodded. “I do too.”
Knowing he wouldn’t pressure me made it easier to step close enough for our bodies to nearly brush.
“I’m scared,” I said. “Of messing this up. Of trusting the wrong person again.”
“You won’t. Not with me.”
I wanted to believe him, and some part of me already did.
