Page 16 of Marked By the Broken Orc
I do my best to hide my surprise at what he’s just admitted. He needs a friend right now who won’t make him feel dumb or different, so I get busy, looking at his paperwork and calmly explaining everything to him.
“Okay, so direct deposit is just…”
Midway through all the explanations and answers to his questions, I’m having difficulty because I’m distracted by how close we’re sitting. His thigh brushes against mine as he shifts to get a better view of the screen. When he reaches over to point at something, his large hand covers mine on the trackpad. “This section here,” he says, his deep voice rumbling through me. “What does this mean?”
I try to focus on the screen instead of the way his breath tickles my ear. “That’s asking about beneficiaries. Who do you want to receive your benefits if something happens to you?”
His fingers pause on the form. “I don’t have anyone.”
The quiet sadness in those words hits me right in the chest. “You will,” I say softly. “Someday you will.”
He turns to look at me, and his chin drops and suddenly we’re face to face, inches apart. The tusks, the horns and that face I adore. His eyes linger on my mouth. “Mia,” he rumbles.
I lick my lips. “Yeah?”
For a moment I think he’s going to kiss me. Then he clears his throat. “The insurance forms. Can you explain those?”
The spell breaks and I force myself to focus on the laptop screen. “Right.” I exhale. “Health insurance. So, this is your monthly premium…”
We spend the next hour going through the rest of the paperwork, and despite the sexual tension humming between us, I genuinely enjoy helping him navigate the bureaucracy. He’s intelligent and asks good questions, and there’s something intimate about being the person he trusts with this kind of practical help.
When we finish, he leans back with a sigh. “Thank you. This would have taken me weeks to figure out on my own.”
“Anytime. I know how confusing all this stuff can be.” I close the laptop, look at the clock and quickly think up a way to spend more time with him. “Want some coffee?” I ask. “I mean, some fancy coffee and maybe some pastries or a sandwich? I’m going to leave right now to meet up my friends, the same ones you met that first night in my apartment, at that new place that recently opened on Third Street. You could come with us if you want.”
He hesitates, and I can see he looks undecided. “As friends,” I add quickly.
“As friends,” he agrees. “Yes, I would like that. I have to stop by the station first to drop some stuff off. How about I meet you there?”
“That sounds perfect.”
Thirty minutes later,I’m sliding into a booth at Grinder’s Coffee with Jessica, Carmen, and Riley. We start chatting and I let them know that Kavin will be joining us. I’m surprised at how busy the place is and how many people I recognize among the patrons. Soon after, I spot Kavin walking through the front door.
“Oh my god,” Carmen hisses under her breath. “He really showed up?”
“Of course he did,” I huff, suddenly nervous about how this is going to go. “He said he was coming.”
Carmen cups her hands around her mouth and shouts across the coffee shop. “Kavin. Come sit with us.”
I grin and shake my head at my friend’s antics.
Kavin gives a polite chin lift in our direction and heads toward the counter to order. I watch him scan the room, and my chest tightens as I notice the way some of the other customers look at him. Not with curiosity or interest, but with suspicion and discomfort.
I might’ve made a mistake inviting him to a place I’d never been to before. This place might not be as orc-friendly as I assumed. I stand without really thinking about it. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?” Jessica asks.
“To make sure he’s okay.” I weave through the tables toward the counter, where Kavin is waiting patiently in line.
When I get there, Kavin steps up to order. A young guy behind the register, who I assume is college-aged, is already looking at Kavin with undisguised disgust.
Immediate anger roils in my chest. No effing way is anyone,anyonegoing to mistreat Kavin Irontree. Not on my watch.
The server crosses his arms. “I don’t serve orcs here,” he loudly proclaims so half the coffee shop can hear. “Orcs are dangerous to humans. Your kind kidnaps women, and you hunt down and kill and maim men.” He points at the door. “You need to get out right now and never come back.”
Every protective instinct I’ve ever had roars to life, and suddenly I’m not Mia Martin having coffee with friends, I’m instead Staff Sergeant Martin ready to destroy anyone who threatens someone under my protection. “Are you kidding me with that crap?” I snarl, stepping in front of Kavin so I can lean into this guy. “What century do you think this is?”
The server takes a step back, clearly not expecting pushback for his words. “I’m just saying?—”
