Page 52 of My Orc Contract Husband
I opened my mouth to answer, but he beat me to it. “Don’t be silly.” His eyes—dark again, with a small green glow in the center—flashed in the rearview mirror. “You and Sami were supposed to spend the afternoon together, yeah? I just appreciateyoubeing willing to come withmeto the Lexington farm.”
How wonderful was that? When he asked if I wanted to join him and his friends this afternoon, and I’d mentioned I’d promised Sharon we’d hang out, he hadn’t hesitated to invite her along. I was new at this wholerelationshipthing, but I really appreciated that he hadn’t asked me to choose between the people I loved.
Not like my father had forced my mother to do. Aunt Sharon still hadn’t forgiven him for refusing to let Mom visit on holidays. Is that what Pierce would’ve expected of me? I had to assume so.
Twisting in the seat, I pushed aside those dark thoughts and met my aunt’s worried gaze with a small smile. “Seriously, Aunt Sharon, it’ll be fun.”
“Oh, Iknowit’ll be fun, dear. I love going to the sunflower maze—it’s a lovely way to celebrate the end of summer. But I don’t want to horn in on the newlywed’s time together.”
Again, it was Tarkhan who assured her, “We’re glad we get to spend time with you, Aunt Sharon.”
All I could do was nod firmly because he wasright.
And P.S.: The way he called herAunt Sharon, as if he was claiming her as part of his family? How cute is that?
Her face lit up at being included, and I loved that it was so simple to make her happy. To makemehappy. Tarkhan had claimed my aunt ashisbecause he’d seen that she was a good person, something my father could never recognize.
So I’ll admit I was a little bit swoony as I turned to face forward once more. But I was finding myself getting swoony over stuff Tarkhan did all the time these days.
Even as I had that thought, he glanced at me, then at the air vent, blowing cold air right at my bare shoulders. Without a word, he adjusted the vent upward so I wasn’t as chilled.
See what I mean?
Yesterday I’d been unable to really focus on my client and the house showing we were doing, much less the research and paperwork I locked myself in my office to take care of afterward. I was too conscious of Tarkhan, in the same house, puttering about, just beingthere. I’d been able to hear his power tools in the garage, hear him muttering to himself as he paced in the living room, and the noises weren’t distracting. On the contrary, they made my house feelsafeand cozy in a way it never had before.
When I finally finished yesterday, I emerged to find my new compost bin was already half complete. He’d not only listened to me when I mentioned wanting one, he’d gone out and done something about it immediately. I loved hearing his plans for the workshop he could put in along the back property line, and seeing his enthusiasm made me giddy.
We sat in my office to start reading through the requirements for becoming foster parents, and discussed how we could rearrange the house to make it work. He offered to build a partition in the big bedroom so I could set up a small office in there, so we could use the second bedroom for the kids. I thought it was a good idea, but didn’t want to make any permanent changes until we knew for certain this was what we wanted to do.
After all, we were still in the early planning stages, but I could sense his anticipation as much as I could feel mine, nestled at the base of my stomach. This wasn’t something I’d ever considered doing, but now that Tarkhan was in my life—was the other half of my life!—I wanted to help fulfil his dreams.
It had felt so natural to think of us as a “we”—to consider us a partnership. When had that happened? So soon after our fake marriage? Or had it been just this weekend when he’d opened up to me?
“We need to wait and see what Montgomery is going to do,” he’d warned, and that had dampened my excitement a bit.
Reminding me that Pierce could show up and ruin this was a reminder that our marriage was only temporary. Tarkhan had only agreed to it to get a mortgage. And this time next year, we would be divorced.
I didn’t want that.
I didn’t want to lose him, lose what we were slowly, gently building. But how to tell him that? How was I supposed to just blurt outI think I’m falling for youand what? Pray he felt the same way? Pray he didn’t laugh at me for getting too involved in this marriage of convenience?
How had everything changed so much? A month ago I wasn’t dating anyone. Now I was married, considering fostering, and talking aboutforever?
I glanced at Tarkhan’s strong profile.
It was all thanks to him.
Last night…
Last night was different. We didn’t have sex—penetrative sex, I guess I should say. But for the first time, Tarkhan took off all his clothes and stretched out beside me in the bed. He still made me come three or four times—I’mdefinitely not complaining about that tradition—but he allowed me to touch him this time too.
Now that I knew what that vulnerability meant to him, I cherished it. I cherishedhim, and the way he met my gaze intently as we stroked one another.
And when he came all over my hand, he made the most incredible soft sound that made me roll over on top of him and kiss him senseless.
In retaliation, he lifted me to sit on his face and showed me exactly how flexible his tongue really was.
Just the memory of it made my cheeks heat and made me squeeze my thighs together.
