My Orc (Secret) Boss (Eastshore Isle #7)

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Maya

I wore my cute little sundress the next day to the Festival, for a few reasons:

I liked the way Memnon looked at me when I was wearing it.

It made me feel pretty, and with a cute little sweater over the top as a nod to the spring weather, I felt like I was giving a different vibe than the normally “utilitarian” reputation I’d gotten around town. Especially with the whole “digging in the mud” thing.

And finally, most importantly…I spent the night at Memnon’s house.

I didn’t mean to do it. It’s just that I felt so relaxed after that shower and that incredible orgasm that when he suggested we watch a movie with the delicious pizza he’d made, I immediately agreed.

I’d curled up next to him, feeling safe and protected at his side, and fallen asleep.

This morning, I woke up plastered on top of him. He was stretched out on the couch, one arm behind his head, watching me sleep, when I lifted my head and tried to surreptitiously tell if I’d drooled all over him.

“Good morning, Blossom,” he rumbled, and I’d melted. He’d held me all night?

I think it’s possible I was falling in love with my employee.

I tried to play it cool, though, as we walked hand-in-hand toward the park. I knew the stage was all set up because I could hear the bands from Main Street. Memnon’s limp didn’t seem as pronounced today, and I considered asking him if he was sure he wanted to go—I’d already entered the auction, so I had to be there, but he didn’t—but chickened out. What would I do if he said no?

Be lonely, that’s what. You’ve survived without him before, and you’ll keep surviving.

Except…I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to go to the Festival without him. I didn’t want to do anything without him.

Yep, I had it bad for Memnon.

We bought some fried food on a stick because it’s obligatory at any festival. I got fried cheese, and he got a corndog that he ate in two bites. When he started eyeing mine, I chuckled and handed it over.

“Memnon!” called out a deep voice. “What a joy to see you here, T’mak .”

As we turned, I saw Memnon’s face slide into a scowl, but the older orc moving toward us wore a smile of genuine pleasure. Giza—big, bearded, tattooed, and the most polite male I’d ever met—had turned the shop across the street from mine into a tattoo parlor. People came from all over the world for his particular brand of orcish tattooing-and-therapy.

He moved slowly because his very pregnant Mate was clinging to his arm. “Maya.” He greeted me with a little bow when I finally took pity on them and pulled Memnon closer. “Thank you for dragging our friend here into the sunshine.”

Memnon responded by chomping down on the fried cheese and chewing mulishly.

I grinned and slid my arm through his. “He says he wants to meet his brother’s Mate. Rissa is supposed to be here today.”

Nodding, Giza turned to his Mate, Harper. “I’m looking forward to meeting her too, but this could have waited.”

“Until when ?” Harper snapped. She was a beautiful woman, normally perfectly put together and calm, but today her face was red, and she was frowning. “I’m going to pop any day now, and then I’ll be stuck inside with a baby all summer.”

“Kitlings don’t melt in the sun, dkaar . And the midwife said you had at least two weeks left.”

“Oh joy,” she groaned with a roll of her eyes. “You can carry the next one. Or at least time it so I’m ridiculously pregnant in the winter, okay?”

Giza’s eyes sparkled as he stroked her back and murmured soothingly, “Promise.”

Huffing a sigh, Harper turned to me. “Honestly, I dragged Giza here because I needed some exercise, and because Liv is playing.”

When she tipped her head toward the stage, I saw Eastshore’s most famous resident, renowned violinist Olivia Zhang, preparing to amaze the audience. At her side stood her big burly Mate, Luxor. He wore a suit and a scowl and carried two little crying green bundles.

Memnon grunted. “You didn’t come to hear her play, you came to see the kitlings.”

Chuckling, Giza clapped his shoulder. “You’ve guessed correctly, T’mak . My beloved is obsessed with them.”

“They have the cutest little tusks,” Harper whispered to me, her hand resting beneath her extended belly. “I’m looking forward to meeting our daughter.”

Giza seemed to swell with pride. “As am I. But you see, dkaar , Olivia isn’t stuck inside, and you won’t be either. I’ll keep both of you safe, don’t worry.”

There was a little sound of surprise from Memnon, and when I turned, it was to see him staring down at me with something like confusion on his face.

“Memnon?” I whispered, tightening my hold on him. Maybe the cheese was bad or something. “Are you okay?”

“Do not fear, Maya,” Giza said, amusement tinting his tone. “He’s just struggling with some important realizations about the nature of his relationships.”

Relationships? My brows drew in as I looked back at Memnon, who was still staring at me, his gaze weirdly green again. “Memnon?”

“I’m fine,” he grunted, turning away.

“Oh, honey, you’re not fine,” Harper laughed. “I mean, you are fine, just not as fine as my Mate, but you know what I mean.” When Memnon turned his scowl her way, she just chuckled again. “You haven’t looked in a mirror lately, have you?”

Was it my imagination, or did he pale at that?

“Maya!” I turned to see Ro hurrying toward me. “ There you are!” She was breathing heavily as she skidded to a stop at our group, looking fabulous as always. She planted her hands on her hips as she got her breath back and smiled at the group. “Giza, Harper, you look amazing.”

“I do not,” Eastshore’s latest lawyer grumbled. “I look bloated and sweaty.”

“ Glowing ,” Ro corrected with a faint smirk. “And this must be the elusive Memnon, because there are only so many orcs on this island, and I’ve met them all.” She waved. “I’m Ro.”

But Memnon was ignoring her, staring at me instead. I wanted to apologize for his rudeness, and tell him to acknowledge Ro, but Giza stopped me with a chuckle.

“Rosemary, Eastshore Isle is a sanctuary for our people, and Sakkara is doing his best to spread the word. Soon there will be new orcs, ones you haven’t yet met…”

Harper nudged her Mate. “Yeah, but you’ve met them all and will be able to tell us everything about them—hair color, history, shoe size, et cetera .”

His expression was serious as he deadpanned, “Black, turbulent, twenty-six.”

“You can’t all have the same past—” Harper began, but Ro interrupted her. “Wait, you all wear size twenty-six shoes?”

There was a twinkle in Giza’s dark eyes as he nodded solemnly. “You know what they say about men with big feet.”

As Harper snickered, my gaze dropped, unbidden, to Memnon’s feet. His shoes were larger than any I’d seen, and his cock…

Maybe I made a little noise because I saw his nostrils flare and his gaze shot to mine. My cheeks darkened in a flush, remembering how that cock had felt pressed against me last night.

“Well, okay then!” Ro declared too cheerfully to not be fake. “I’m here to collect Maya for Jess—I promised I would help.” She linked her arm though mine. “I swear, though, you’re all going to make me start hoping Giza’s right and more orcs will show up here.”

Harper winked lewdly. “There are certain benefits.”

I was beyond embarrassed, but judging from the way Memnon was staring at me—half-shocked, half-angry—he wasn’t paying attention to their banter.

“Come on, Maya.” Ro tugged me. “The auction is about to start.”

Oh yeah, since I was going up on the stage to represent my company, I probably had to stand in line someplace. So I stumbled after her, trying to make my feet work properly.

I did peek over my shoulder once or twice to see Memnon still staring at me.

I wondered what thought he was having that made him look as if he’s swallowed a whole pickle. Was he angry at me , or something someone else had said?

Oh dear. I hope he was still there after the auction so I could ask him.