Page 33 of Protective Pucking Orc

His handsome face⁠—

Wait, handsome?

Well, duh. The guy wasn’t handsome the same way Anthony was, but I’d learned Anthony’s attractiveness hid cruelty. Dakvaar was an orc, not the sort of male I’d ever been attracted to, but his stoicism hid more kindness and gentleness than I’d thought one male capable of possessing.

Oh.

I was attracted to Dakvaar, wasn’t I? Not just in a you saved my ass and I owe you way, although that was still true. In a genuine I hadn’t realized how hot you were kinda way.

I was frowning thoughtfully as he stroked one fingertip over my now-unwrapped wrist, and stood. “I’ve already spoken with Maggie and told her you’re taking a few weeks off and will return once we’ve worked out this mess.”

We.

I found out later that day—in between games and movies with my daughter, because when was the last time we got to spend a lazy day together?—that Dakvaar was serious about solving my problems.

The notice that my rent had been paid early popped up on my phone, and the payment was attached to his name. During the day, the mailman delivered four large packages addressed to Rosa Lopez, and she declared it was because her birthday was in only three months, and she deserved it all.

My smile was a little weak as I helped her open them.

The first box was the smallest, and Rosa tore into it with a squeal, sending wrapping paper flying like confetti. Inside was a set of hair ties—dozens of them, in every color of the rainbow, some with tiny sparkles, others shaped like animals. She gasped, clutching them to her chest like they were made of gold.

“Mama, look! A unicorn one! And a cat! And a—oh! A dragon!” She immediately yanked her pigtails loose—I’d done them this morning, since Dakvaar’s attempts yesterday had been heartwarmingly awful—and fumbled with the unicorn tie, her tongue sticking out in concentration. “Can you do my hair like this every day now?”

I swallowed hard, my fingers trembling as I helped her.

“Of course, mija.” But my mind raced. How had he known?

The next box was bigger, and when Rosa ripped it open, she let out a shriek that made me jump. Inside was a plush dragon, its scales a deep emerald green, its wings spread wide. It was easily twice her size, soft and detailed, with golden embroidered claws and a red felt tongue lolling out of its mouth.

“It’s Bebkar!” she shrieked, hugging it so tight I thought she might burst. “Dak’s storm dragon! He’s gonna protect me!” She immediately dragged it to the couch, arranging it beside her like a guardian.

My throat tightened. “Veth’kar,” I softly corrected, remembering the story he’d told us, and how Rosa had demanded another story from him each evening since.

The third box was the biggest, and when Rosa pulled off the lid, her eyes went wide. “Books!” She dove in like it was a treasure chest, pulling out volume after volume—picture books with bright illustrations, early readers with big, bold letters, even a few chapter books with dragons and princesses on the covers. She flipped through them, her small fingers tracing the pages like they were sacred.

“Mama, look! This one has a girl who fights monsters! And this one—oh! It’s about a kid who lives in a treehouse!”

I sank onto the couch beside her, my hands shaking as I picked up one of the books. He’d bought her books. Not just any books—age-appropriate ones, and fancy ones besides. The kind I’d always wanted to get her but could never justify spending money on when we needed groceries, when the rent was due, when⁠—

“Mama, can we read this one first?” Rosa thrust a book into my lap, her dark eyes shining. “Please?”

I nodded, my voice thick. “Yeah, baby. Let’s read.”

She curled against me, the dragon plush tucked under her arm, and I started reading, my fingers tracing the words even as my mind spun. How had he known? How had he known exactly what she’d love?

The last box was for me.

I almost didn’t open it. My hands hovered over the neat, unmarked packaging, my stomach twisting. But Rosa was already tugging at the flaps, her excitement infectious.

“What’s in this one, Mama?”

Inside were clothes.

My clothes; new clothes for me, an indulgence I hadn’t experienced in years.

Leggings in my exact size, soft cotton shirts in colors I actually wore, even a sweatshirt that looked suspiciously like the one I’d left behind in our rushed escape. Underneath were practical things—bras, underwear, socks—all in the right sizes, the right styles. There was a simple bathing suit in dark blue, and a matching one that would fit Rosa, and I remembered the hot tub out back. My fingers trembled as I pulled out a bottle of shampoo—my shampoo, the coconut-scented kind I’d been using for years.

I remembered what he’d said about orc senses, and wondered if he’d smelled it on me or something. And wondered what else he could smell.