Page 74 of Orc'd At A Wedding
"I was optimizing my approach."
"You made amanualfor dating me?"
"It is a living document," he says defensively. "I update it regularly based on new data."
We look at each other, locking eyes.
And then I start laughing so hard I have to sit down.
CHAPTER 20
OLOG
Iwatch Bliss collapse onto my reinforced couch, clutching the binder to her chest, her entire body shaking with laughter, and I experience a physical sensation I have not felt in years.
Mortification.
Deep, bone-level embarrassment.
I cross my arms over my chest, my jaw tight, attempting to salvage what remains of my dignity.
"It is a practical organizational system designed to maximize relationship efficiency and minimize potential distress triggers," I say, my voice coming out far more defensive. "The compilation of such data is standard protocol in any high-stakes protection detail."
She wipes tears from her eyes, still giggling.
"Olog. We're dating. Not executing a military operation."
"The distinction is negligible when your well-being is at stake."
She opens the binder again, flipping through pages with unrestrained glee, and I resist the urge to physically retrieve the classified intelligence from her hands.
"Oh my stars," she breathes, stopping on a page with multiple color-coded charts. "You graphed my menstrual cycleand cross-referenced it with optimal comfort food delivery timing."
"Chocolate consumption patterns demonstrated a significant correlation with hormonal fluctuations," I reply stiffly. "The data supported proactive intervention strategies."
"You have a tab labeledTactical Compliment Deployment."
"Specificity increases impact. Generic praise is inefficient."
She looks up at me, her brown eyes bright with affection and amusement, and something in my body loosens fractionally.
"This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me," she says softly.
I blink.
That was not the reaction I anticipated.
"You are not... disturbed by the comprehensive surveillance implications?"
"Disturbed?" She stands, crossing the room to me, the binder still clutched in her hands. "Olog, you made amanualto make sure you never accidentally hurt me. You documented everything I love so you'd never forget. This isn't creepy. This is you."
She rises on her toes, pressing a kiss to my jaw.
"This is exactly the kind of obsessive, overprotective, incredibly thoughtful thing I expect from the man who took a glass of wine to the chest to protect my dress."
I exhale slowly, my hands settling on her hips, pulling her closer.
"The binder also contains contingency plans for seventy-three different family emergency scenarios," I admit. "Including your Aunt Susan's potential heart attack and your father's inevitable public intoxication incident."
