Page 57 of Fake Dating an Orc Cowboy

I grinned. “That’s me.”

Sel? Maybe Tark. One of the twins, for sure, gave me a sheepish grin as he scratched the back of his neck. “She’s small, like Jessi,” he whispered out of the corner of his mouth to Ostor.

Oddly enough, what looked like a raven perched on his right shoulder. It flapped its wings and pecked his cowboy hat before settling.

“Very small,” he whispered, but then, he was the biggest of the bunch, standing at least four inches above all the other orcs. And he was broader. The sweet look in his dark eyes belied his hulk-like appearance, however.

“I’m sorry.” The tips of Tark’s ears darkened. “I shouldn’t have remarked on your size. Greel didn’t mention how tiny you are.”

“Greel doesn’t say much of anything,” another brother said.

“I talk,” Greel said with a scowl.

“It’s okay,” I said, giving him a sympathetic look. “What’s your raven’s name?”

Tark’s face darkened to match his ears. “Sharga. That means Shadow in orcish.” He gently stroked the creature’s spine, his fingers appearing huge when compared to the bird.

Their aunt bustled forward and gave me a hug, lifting me off my feet and almost crushing the air from my lungs. “Welcome, sweetness. Welcome. Call me Aunt Inla, please.”

“Thank you.”

“Rosey may be small, but she has the biggest heart,” Ostor said. “Which you’ll soon see.”

“She must if she's with you.” Another brother stepped closer, holding out an enormous hand and tipping his head in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you, Rosey. I’m Ruugar.”

One by one, they introduced themselves, each offering shy smiles mixed with a touch of hope that made me feel happy and sad at the same time. None of them were married. From what Ostor said, few of them had even dated.

“I . . .” Color rose into Greel’s face as he patted my shoulder. “Jessi. Wife. Mate.”

“Jessi is amazing,” Dungar said. He peered around. “She’s here somewhere. I know she can’t wait to meet you. Jessi. Jessi!”

Greel glared at his brother. “Don’t yell at my mate.”

A lopsided grin rose on Dungar’s face. “I love her. You know that.”

“Don’t,” Greel growled.

Dungar laughed.

“You must be Rosey.” An older woman rushed out of the General Store, the swinging half-doors closing behind her. Reaching us, she gave me a big hug. “I’m Grannie Lil. You can call me that. I’m Jessi’s grandmother, but I’ve adopted every one of these guys and whoever they love, so that includes you.” She beamed.

Talk about being bowled over. “It’s nice to meet you.”

A woman with curly, shoulder-length brown hair left the General Store as well and joined us, leaning into Greel’s side. He wrapped her in his arms and curled his big body forward to kiss her cheek.

“Mate,” he sighed.

“I’m Jessi.” The woman’s bubbly laugh was infectious, and I found myself joining in as I shook her hand. “Welcome to Lonesome Creek. Where the cowboys are hot and orc and . . . hot.” She grinned. “I need to work on that logline, don’t I?”

“It’s amazing,” Greel said reverently, his eyes only for her.

“I’ll help if you want,” I said.

“That would be wonderful.” Jessi’s warm gaze scanned the guys looking raptly at me.

So many orc bachelors in need of love.

“I have plans for the rest of these boys,” Grannie Lil said. “Dating apps can work wonders.”

---