Page 98 of Sweet-Talking Orc Cowboy

Carla lifted her chin. “Managing is nearly the same thing.”

“You’re saying no.” His voice came out deadly.

Color rose into her pretty cheeks. Did Becken notice? From the sharp way he watched her, I suspected he did.

It was going to be interesting to see what happened if they touched. I could almost taste romance in the air, though those two might not agree—yet.

The silence that followed his words felt loaded. Hail’s brothers’ mates exchanged knowing glances. Someone was about to learn an expensive lesson about the difference between book knowledge and real experience. I recognized those looks, having seen them often enough when tourists underestimated chumbles or mountain weather.

Hail leaned closer to me. “Want to bet on how long before Becken suggests a practical demonstration?”

I smiled, settling against his shoulder as I ate another spoonful of the stew.

The argument at the other table would work itself out. Becken’s quiet competence always won over even stubborn skeptics, and something told me that under Carla’s professional attitude was someone who truly cared about doing things right. They’d figure it out eventually. I could already imagine Becken’s patient explanation as he introduced Carla to a sorhox, the inevitable moment of surprise when the consultant realized these weren’t just oversized horses but unique, special animals.

For now, I was happy sitting with Hail beside me, surrounded by people who were family, in the place that had become everything I never knew I needed.

The future stretched ahead of us, bright with hope and love.

With warm food in my stomach, the murmur of familiar voices around me, and Hail by my side, there was no place I’d rather be.