"Oh, I have. You threaten people with historical battle references."
"It's effective."
She laughs. "What else?"
"Teaching you orc customs. Learning human ones. Figuring out holidays and traditions and—" I pause. "Maybe visiting your hometown. Seeing where you come from."
Trinity goes still. "You want to visit?"
"If you'll take me."
"It's tiny. Boring. Nothing like the city."
"You're from there. That makes it worth seeing."
Her eyes get suspiciously bright. "You're going to charm everyone with your blunt honesty and accidental compliments, aren't you?"
"I don't charm."
"You absolutely do. You just don't realize it."
I smooch her temple. "When do we go?"
"Maybe next month? After the spring rush." She nestles closer. "Warn you now—my mom will ask when we're having kids, my dad will want to arm-wrestle, and my aunt will critique everything."
"I can handle that."
"You say that now."
"I survived a reality show. I can survive your family."
"Famous last words."
We lie there, comfortable silence settling.
"Korgan?"
"Mm?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"Choosing this. Me. The messy, complicated, toothpaste-argument version of us."
I tighten my hold. "There's no other version I'd want."
She shifts, kisses me properly. Slow and deep and full of promise.
She smiles.
"So. Apartment hunting tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow."
"And maybe we start looking at recipes for fusion desserts? Orc-human collaboration?"
"Are you trying to make me your business partner?"
