Page 29 of Loved By the Orc
I’M AWAKE, CALMLY studying the house by the time the human male—Paul—pokes his head into the wagon. He looks surprised to see me holding stock still as if I awaited his approach.
Though I visited Negan at midnight, she was sleeping so soundly that I slipped through the rest of the house, checking to make sure it was secure before I left the same way I came, leaving her a single rose on her nightstand.
I’ve known Paul was awake from the moment he rose from his bed.
He pauses at the foot of the wagon, waiting to see if I’ll speak first, I suppose.
I wait.
“I’m heading out. Rosemary’s up. Why don’t you head inside?” He scowls, trying to look fierce. “I’d prefer if the guard was inside protecting the women.”
Which makes no sense. The females are safe whether I’m inside or out. No one is getting through me.
He clears his throat. “And just so you’re aware, Rosemary will want to go shopping and will expect you indoors for dinner.”
My eyebrows shoot to my hairline. He would want me—an orc—inside his home to share a meal?
“Don’t disappoint her.” He turns on his heel. “Door’s unlocked.”
Unlocked? He didn’t lock them in? I scowl and the older man tosses a grin over his shoulder before leaving.
So much for having time to dunk in the creek for a quick clean up. Instead, I grab my satchel and quietly enter the house to find Rosemary wrapped in her robe, heading to the kitchen.
I freeze. She looks atrocious, her abnormally-dark hair with white roots wrapped in huge curlers, and a blueish-green paste smeared onto her face.
It is some sort of anti-mummification process I can’t comprehend. Without speaking, I turn and lock the front door, then warily turn back to meet her crazy.
“Look at you, up bright and early,” she pipes. “Just heading to make some coffee. Do you want to make use of the shower before Negan wakes? It’s right down the hall.”
The exasperating female heads right into the kitchen, not even caring that she leaves a stranger in her hallway. I stare after her, bemused for several seconds. Shaking my head, I make my way down the hall from whence she came. At least I can clean up before Negan wakes.
A bathroom is on the left, door ajar.
Like the hotel, the human home has a never-ending supply of hot water. Not that I’m rude enough to test the theory. I change my clothes, tossing my old ones into my satchel, and brush my teeth. I head back out, but I don’t hear any voices.
Disappointment hits when I see Rosemary alone in the kitchen.
“You clean up nicely,” the old human says. “Leave your dirty clothing in that mudroom near the back door. There’s a washing tub. I’ll soak them first so just place them in the sink for me.”
I stare at her, aghast. “I can clean my own clothing.”
“Yes, but why would you? I’m healthy, and you’re injured, boy. Now toss them in there.”
Bemused, I do as she asks.
“Perfect. Now sit. Been a long time since I’ve had anyone to fuss over. Coffee? I made these scrumptious little coffee cakes. Spiced with cinnamon, the way my little Neegie likes them.” The old woman bustles around at the cabinet, dousing a sweetcake with a dollop of cream, before bringing it to where I sit at the counter.
My brother would have murdered her long before now and made off with the sleepy Negan. My stomach churns when I think of how close he came to infiltrating their happy home… and how much of a part I had in it. Because it was me who had the idea to ask Bakog to introduce me to the bridge. My father jumped on that, giving me the task to see it through. Though, at the time, I thought we might have a simple mating plan between us. A business arrangement.
Until the first time I saw her.
Then Rosemary grabs her own coffee and sits across from me at the counter. She’s going to join me?
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”
I immediately know who she’s talking about. The image of the sleeping beauty from last night pops into my head.
“Aye,” I grumble, unable to deny it.
