“I still can’t believe we built this.” I ran my hand along the smooth countertop. “I’ve never owned property before. Never stayed anywhere long enough to put down roots.”
“It suits you.” Becken moved to stand behind me, his arms encircling my waist, his chin resting on top of my head. “You’ve bloomed here.”
The simple truth of that statement made tears fill my eyes. Ihadbloomed in Lonesome Creek, professionally and personally, in ways I never could have imagined when I first arrived during a snowy December.
My position as operations manager had evolved beyond the original job description. Now I oversaw not only the rodeo program, but all of Lonesome Creek’s tourist attractions, from trail rides to pottery classes to the new festival series we’d launched in May. Revenue had increased thirty percent since Christmas, and advance bookings for the fall and winter seasons were already at capacity.
I’d discovered true success could mean building something in one place rather than constantly moving on to the next challenge. The recognition I’d always craved had come not from fancy positions or impressive titles, but from creating something uniquely valuable that honored both human and orc traditions.
“What are you thinking about?” Becken’s voice rumbled through me.
“How different everything is from the life I’d planned.” I turned in his arms to face him. “How much better it is.”
His smile, still rare enough to feel like a gift, shifted his serious face. “Better than California?”
“So much better.” I rose on tiptoes to kiss him, though he had to meet me halfway. “If you tell anyone I admitted that, I’ll deny it.”
His laughter filled our new home, the sound as warm as the summer air. The golden mark on my wrist, like a tattoo I’d chosen rather than a magical brand, nearly gleamed with happiness. The mating bond had settled into something deeper than physical attraction, more profound than even love. It was recognition, belonging, certainty.
“We should finish unpacking before everyone arrives,” I said, reluctantly pulling away from his embrace. “Aunt Inla threatened to reorganize our kitchen if we don’t do it properly.”
“And Lavon backed her up.” Becken shook his head. “Those two are getting as bad as Jessi and Greel with the public displays of affection.”
“I think it’s sweet.” I began unpacking dishes from the nearest box. “Inla deserves happiness after spending so many years looking after everyone else.”
“She does.” Becken took the plates from my hands, placing them on the shelves. “Though I could do without walking in on them kissing in the general store stockroom.”
I laughed, remembering his mortified expression after that particular incident. “Better get used to it. From the way they were dancing at the Midsummer Festival, I’d say we might be attending another mating ceremony before winter.”
Working side by side, we unpacked the kitchen supplies, arranging them in the cabinets according to the system we’d developed during our months in the hotel. My professional skills and his practical approach had melded into something that worked for both of us, a metaphor for our relationship if there ever was one.
The sound of sorhoxes approaching interrupted a kiss to share our success. Through the front windows, I spotted a bunch of our family filling our driveway.
I checked the time on my phone. “They’re early.”
“They’re excited. It’s not every day Lonesome Creek gets a new home for its operations manager and sorhox master.”
The housewarming party had been Ostor’s idea, though everyone had quickly jumped in on the plan. After months of watching our house take shape on the outskirts of town, our family wanted to celebrate its completion and officially welcome me into the fold.
Beth reached us first, little Noma balanced on her hip. At six months old, the baby already showed the distinctive features of both her parents. She had her father’s green-tinged skin and her mother’s delicate bone structure. When they entered, she reached for Becken, gurgling happily.
“Someone’s been asking for Uncle Becken all morning,” Beth said, transferring the squirming baby to his arms.
The sight of my grumpy, serious mate cradling the infant made my heart flutter. Noma immediately grabbed for his cowboy hat, a game they’d played over months of interaction. He, like usual, removed it and plunked it on her head. Hergiggles erupted beneath the leather, and she shoved it back, laughing harder when it fell on the floor.
“The place looks amazing,” Beth said, spinning to take in the open living area. “Though of course we all knew it would.”
“I still need curtains,” I said. “And I’m going to buy some of Allie’s artwork to hang on the walls.”
“It’ll come in due time. You’ve been running an entire tourist town while building a house. Curtains and art can wait.”
More sorhoxes arrived, carrying familiar faces bearing food, drinks, and housewarming gifts. Holly and Sel brought a massive platter of pastries. Tark and Gracie arrived with framed photographs of the construction process, a perfect before-and-after documentation of our journey. Aunt Inla swept in with Lavon, both carrying baskets of household essentials I hadn’t even realized we needed.
Within minutes, our new home overflowed with family, conversation, and laughter. Dungar claimed a spot on our new couch, nursing a beer and looking more relaxed than I’d seen him in months.
“The new deputy starts next week,” he told me when I joined him. “She comes highly recommended from the county sheriff’s department.”
“You’re finally getting help,” I said. “It’s about time.”
