Page 61 of Thankful for My Orc
I pad over in his t-shirt and watch him work the dough with those massive hands, the same hands that adored every inch of my body last night. “You never mentioned that you bake.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet. We’ve got a lifetime for discoveries.” He glances up, and the casual certainty in hisvoice makes my breath catch. “But today? Today you meet my family.”
“Guess we’re skipping the easy levels and going straight to expert mode.”
“They’re going to love you.”
I lean against the counter, watching him shape the dough into a round loaf. The morning sun streams through his apartment window, catching in his dark hair and making his green skin seem to glow. This is my life now. Thanksgiving mornings with an orc who bakes bread and makes me feel like I belong.
“I’m thankful for you,” I tell him quietly.
He stills, that amber gaze finding mine with an intensity that steals my breath. “Say that again.”
“I’m thankful for my orc.”
His purr starts low in his chest, and he crosses to me in two strides, flour-dusted hands cupping my face. “Best Thanksgiving gift I’ve ever received.”
Hours later, I’m more nervous walking into Station 32than I was for my bar exam. At least then I knew what to expect. This feels like walking into a family reunion where I don’t know the family, carrying two store-bought pumpkin pies that I desperately hope don’t scream, “I’m a fraud who can’t cook.” Although who am I kidding? Anyone who was at the speed-dating event already knows the truth.
I’m sure Forge’s contribution will be well received. Somehow, he found the time to buy a lovely cornucopia at the Saturday market. It’s filled with hallmarks of the season, including colorful ears of corn and a half dozen perfectly round loaves of golden brown bread filled with walnuts, raisens, and a blend of spices that make my mouth water. He looks like a cross between a pagan god and a huggable cinnamon roll in his cozy sweater.
Before we enter the firehouse, I pull Forge close and rise on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I just want to tell you before the deluge of people and questions…” I pause as a wave of emotion washes over me, “I’m so glad I’m yours and you’re mine.”
He swallows hard, almost as though he caught the depth of my emotion and now feels it too. The purr that rumbles through his chest is immediate and possessive. He cups my face and kisses me deeply, right there in the parking lot. When we break apart, his eyes are molten copper. “Yep. Best Thanksgiving ever.The Goddess blessed me the day she brought you into my life.”
The apparatus bay has been transformed into something magical—and unmistakably Thanksgiving. Long tables covered in autumn-colored tablecloths fill the space between the fire engines, strings of warm lights casting everything in a golden glow.
Corn husks and miniature pumpkins serve as centerpieces, and someone has strung garlands of fall leaves along the ceiling beams. A hand-painted banner reading “GRATEFUL FOR FAMILY” hangs above the serving area. The scent of dozens of different dishes mingles in the air—traditional turkey and stuffing mixing with what I can only assume are dishes from An’Wa, creating something entirely new and wonderful.
But it’s the sound that gets to me most. Laughter, conversation in multiple languages, and children shrieking with delight as they chase each other around the trucks. It sounds like belonging.
“You okay?” Forge asks softly, his hand warm and steady on the small of my back.
I look up at him, taking in the way his eyes shine with pride and happiness, and my anxiety settles slightly. “Just taking it all in. It’s beautiful.”
“Wait until you meet everyone. They’re going to love you.”
Before I can respond, a familiar voice booms across the space. “Well, well! Forge finally brought his speed date back to the firehouse!” Kam appears at our side with a grin that suggests trouble, and I immediately remember him from the night of speed dating and the disastrous cooking contest. There’s something infectious about his energy, though, and I find myself smiling despite my apprehension.
“Good to see you again, Kam,” I say, extending my hand. “Thanks for having me.”
“We’re glad you’re here.”
There’s something about his expression that tells me I’m missing an inside joke, but Forge pointedly changes the subject. “The food smells incredible.”
“Wait until you try my grandmother’s recipe,” Kam says. “I’ve been perfecting it for years.”
Then he pauses, his nostrils flaring as he catches something only an orc could detect. His eyes widen with delight, and he takes a dramatic sniff of the air. “Oh, Ironwood,” he says, his voice carrying across the bay. “You didn’t mention you’d sealed the deal.”
My face flames as several nearby orcs turn to look, their expressions shifting from curious to knowing.
“Sealed what deal?” I ask, though I know exactly what he means.
“Your scents are completely mingled—you tworeekof each other.” Kam’s grin is unrepentant. “And unless my nose is completely off, that’s soulbond I’m detecting. Congratulations, by the way. Welcome to the permanently claimed club.”
Forge’s hand tightens possessively on my waist, and I can feel the rumble of satisfaction in his chest. “Kam—”
“What? I’m being nice! Welcoming.” Kam’s eyes sparkle with mischief, but there’s genuine warmth underneath. “Besides, I'm sure half the orcs here already picked up on it the second you walked in. Might as well acknowledge the elephant—or should I say, the very happy orc—in the room.”
