Page 33 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

“We’ll be meeting regularly,” he said, also sitting. “Having food available will make us more efficient.”

Right. Efficiency.

I picked up the coffee cup, and the smell hit me first. The exact roast I’d been making in the pot in the break room. From what I’d seen, the orcs only drank tea, though they’d generously provided a coffee maker and various grounds for me.

I took a sip.

Two creams. No sweetener.

Exactly the way I liked it.

I hadn’t told him how I took my coffee.

I caught him watching me, his tablet still held against his chest.

“How did you know how I take my coffee?” I asked.

His tusks shifted higher against his upper lip. “I observed. You make coffee in the break room each morning and have two cups. Sometimes a third after lunch. Two portions of cream. No sweet dust. I…noticed.”

“Um, it’s called sweetener.”

“Ah, yes.” His laugh rang out, making my skin tingle. “Not sweet dust.”

“Sweet dust is a fun way to refer to it, though.”

It didn’t matter. He’d noticed.

He’d been watching me make coffee enough times to memorize how I took it. Which meant he’d been thinking about me when I wasn’t in the room. Which meant⁠—

His dark eyes were still on me, waiting for my reaction with an intensity that made my pulse do complicated things.

“That’s very…” I tried to find a word that didn’t sound like I was reading into this. “Observant of you.”

“I observe many things.” He said it quickly, almost defensively. “It’s part of my role here at the rescue league.”

“Do you know how Drogar takes his tea?”

He frowned. Shrugged.

“Or Krem?”

His jaw clenched.

I smiled. I couldn’t help it.

His gaze dropped to my mouth, then snapped back to my eyes. “I may have paid more attention to your patterns.”

I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to breathe again.

“Thank you,” I said. “For the coffee and the cookies.” I nudged the plate his way. “Would you like one? Two? Have twelve if you want.”

He carefully slid one off the plate and put the entire thing in his mouth in one bite, chewing, his eyes widening.

“These are delicious,” he mumbled around the treat, crumbs raining down the front of his shirt. He looked down, brushed them off, swallowed, then gazed at the plate of cookies in a way I wished he’d gaze at me.

No. I didn’t want him lusting after me.

Did I?