Page 91 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

His ears darkened. “You’re laughing at me.”

“I’m not.” Though I was. A little. “A pillow barrier is very thoughtful.”

“I’m trying to be respectful.”

“I appreciate it, but bonded mates don’t need pillow barriers.”

He paused, frowning. “What do bonded mates need?”

Each other, though I couldn’t say that.

Neither of us moved as the reality set in. We were going to spend the night in the same bed.

I set a box on the bureau and started unpacking, placing a book on the nightstand, my alarm clock beside it. Clothes in the drawers he cleared for me, his hands shaking as he moved his own things to make room.

We worked in silence, building a life that didn’t exist. Making it look real enough to fool someone who’d been trained to spot lies.

When we’d finished, the cottage looked different.

My coffee maker sat beside his kettle. My books were mixed with his on the shelf.

I reached for one of my mystery novels at the same time he reached for his creature behavior manual.

Our hands collided.

We both froze, fingers tangled near book spines, neither of us pulling away.

“Sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be.”

He slid his hand away slowly, his fingertips dragging across my knuckles.

I shelved my book next to his. They leaned against each other, their spines touching.

We did one more quick check to make sure it looked like two people lived here.

I stopped in the doorway, studying the space we’d built in two hours. It looked convincing. My things beside his things. Evidence of cohabitation.

It looked staged.

One of my shirts had fallen off the hanger in the closet. Traig bent to pick it up, smoothing the fabric between his fingers.

“This is the one you wore on your second day,” he said.

“You remember what I wore?”

He hung it carefully. “I remember everything.”

My ribs squeezed tight around my lungs.

I walked to my purse and pulled out my notebook, the one I’d been keeping since Portland. Since Derek.

Traig watched me, his expression shifting to confusion when I opened it. “What are you doing?”

I didn’t answer. Just flipped past weeks of entries—Fred, Kelthara, Traig—until I found a blank page near the back.

I pointed to it, holding it up to his face.