1. Sadie

Ihad no idea I was going to be arrested today.

If I’d known, I would’ve at least dressed nicer. Maybe worn a sundress and cute sandals. Done something with my hair and put on a nice pair of earrings.

Thank God I’m at least wearing some makeup.

But instead, I”m found in baggy, comfy clothes and my favorite sneakers that I can stand in all day. My long, blonde hair is half up in a messy bun. And I’m certain there’s flour dusting my face.

It’s barely sunrise and I’m already busy in the commercial kitchen, starting today’s orders. I always arrive long before anyone else on weekdays and most weekends too.

A Taylor Swift playlist blares much too loud, but I like it that way. Arriving early means I can do what I want and listen to what I want, without earbuds. This alone time is basically my favorite part of the day. The batter is mixed to my exacting specifications and I dance around the counters. I can slide more cupcakes into ovens while I pump a fist in the air and yell out the chorus to my favorite parts of the songs, with no one the wiser. It puts a bounce in my step and gives me a good head start on orders.

My sister and I co-own this bakery we’ve named One Big Bite.

Business is good. We’re so busy now, Lila and I recently hired two more full time staff. And we’ll probably soon need to hire more. We sell through the store front, but the main business is a steady stream of online orders and local catering. We’re becoming known for our monthly rotation of inventive yet delicious cupcakes. I come up with the different yummy flavors and Lila decorates the hell outta them. We make a great team.

Baking has been my dream job since I was a kid and I can’t believe it’s actually happening. I’m self-taught, having worked at this my whole life alongside my grandmother. Grandma and I spent whole weekends and school breaks together, baking old recipes passed down through the generations, from her grandmother and great-grandmother. I used to gaze in wonder at all these yellowed, well-loved cards, with recipes written in old-time cursive. Grandma taught me everything I know and would even indulge my ideas and let me experiment with new recipes. We had a lot of fun together and my family enjoyed eating the results.

Eventually, I inherited those family recipes, because none of my brothers or sisters cared about that, not even my own parents. Grandma now sadly suffers from dementia, so I’m the one carrying on her legacy.

Instead of culinary school, I let my parents talk me into going to college for a degree in business. This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. I temporarily set aside my dreams of turning my love of baking into a career and filled my head with cold hard facts. I learned a lot. I also learned that working in an office building in the big city, amongst an ocean of cubicles was mind-numbingly dull.

At the start of the pandemic our entire company was ordered to work remotely from home. This was no hardship. I felt like I’d been sprung from jail and quickly decided to move back home for lock down. My whole family still lived in the lovely small town where we’d grown up, I was the only sibling who hadn’t returned yet.

By then, my parent’s house was full to bursting with my siblings and their kids, so I moved into an apartment over Lila’s detached garage. And throughout those long days in isolation, I restarted my baking to pass the time and decrease my anxiety. Family and friends would drive by and pick up my offerings. Eventually, as time passed, the baking grew into something I did every night and weekends too because I began to receive specialty orders that people paid for and my fun side hustle began to make actual money.

When life returned to normal and corporate ordered us all to return to the main office my response was, “Hell, no. I quit.”

It was now or never. I’d enjoyed working remotely but I wasn’t going back to long commutes, dating and relationships through apps and screens, and time wasted in trivial meetings. I was hungry for genuine and meaningful face to face interactions. I want to be an entrepreneur because I love creating treats that put a smile on faces and bring joy to a dull day.

Happiness was so close; I could touch it and grab it with both hands.

My oldest sister and best friend, Lila, was in a similar situation, her life in flux. Her asshole husband had spent quarantine with his latest girlfriend, instead of with his wife and kids. And for my sister, that was the last straw. She hired a take-no-prisoners divorce lawyer and ended up with the house, a large settlement and full custody of their kids. And since my sister had always had a decent love for baking and needed a new direction in life, she decided to invest in my bakery idea. I showed her my business plan and we became partners and things have been running smoothly ever since.

Our small town on the great lakes is a vacation hot spot and a great place to own a bakery because there’s lots of foot traffic and a need for what we provide. It’s grown twice its size since I was a kid. People like the beaches, boating and hiking trails. It’s a quaint town with unique shops and luxe hotels. We’re also famous for our local breweries. And a lot of people now have second homes out here or really first homes, which is great for business. Whole subdivisions have been built and new shopping centers. Nowadays there’s even a small airport, a new hospital and another country club.

There are always parties and events going on, which is great for generating orders. But we still have that small town feel which I really enjoy. I can’t imagine living anywhere else. It’s been nice, returning to my hometown and becoming a small business owner and partnering with my own sister.

I smile, thinking of the one major change around here – our new Sheriff is an orc.

I’m not making that up. Yes, an orc.

Because this is a sleepy township along Lake Michigan, it’s a perfect test case. Orcs like the cold and we get lots of snow in the winters and it’s not too hot in the summer. Also, we don’t have a nearby college or any local sports teams. It’s quiet around here. We’re a county long-known for almost no crime. We joke that it’s like Mayberry but with more diversity.

Lots of the people in town were perturbed that our new Sheriff was going to be an orc.

Not me. I thought it sounded fabulous.

People fretted over issues that weren’t even real.

‘How is this going to work considering orcs are so primitive and war-like?’

‘This is going to ruin business. Why would anyone want to vacation here with an orc stomping around and scaring them away? Do they even know how to act civilized?’

‘Orcs kidnap women off the street and drag them to their caves.’

Some townspeople even felt our orc Sheriff was only here because of “quotas” and that we didn’t need meddlesome lawyers and politicians trying to interfere with who we chose to employ.

But still, I wasn’t concerned. First, I’ve never believed any of those conspiracy theories continuously spread by certain media outlets that ‘other’ the orcs. Modern orcs don’t hurt anyone unless they are outright attacked, the same as any human.

And second, I like the idea of getting to know and work with a real orc, instead of only hearing about them on TV.

In fact, orcs were recently given government reparations and a formal apology from Congress and the President, to make up for centuries of past mistreatment by humans in North America. We’d broken treaties, orc land stolen and communes raided and burned. Mass killing of orcs by deadly teams of humans with high-powered guns and bombs was a sport that was only recently outlawed.

But thankfully laws were passed making orcs equal citizens under the constitution. Their disparate communes are now considered one state and each commune is its own county. Soon there will be two orc senators, and a few orcs included in the house of representatives.

Times are changing.

And now…we have the first orc Sheriff in the country.

I think it’s good for business. Bowen Underwood is basically a local celebrity. He gets rushed by visitors who want his signature or selfies with him. And I’ve noticed he remains grim, but always gracious and allows all the attention. I’ve even watched him, when surrounded by a group of small children, remain calm and sweet until everyone got a picture and left. And the good news is that despite all the original grousing, not once has a visitor, or anyone who lives here, visibly acted scared, or angry that he was there, which makes me happy.

He arrived, they all met him and fell in love and that was that.

And I like him a lot too. Probably too much. Okay, way too much.

I haven’t met him personally, only seen him from a distance. But I read Bowen’s impressive resume, which was given to the Chamber of Commerce and there’s been so much written and said about him in the news, I feel as if I know him already.

Plus, he’s so handsome I can’t keep my eyes off him whenever I see him around town.

I had no idea I have a thing for orcs, but it turns out I do. Or at least I do for this one orc in particular.

I’d heard they were supposedly ugly and monstrous? But I think our new Sheriff looks edgy and handsome. His features are set on angry and disgruntled which makes me want to get to know him better and maybe hand him a cupcake—to put a smile on that ferocious face. He’s taller and bigger than any man therefore I feel small and petite next to him even though I’m taller than my other sisters. Next to Sheriff Underwood, I feel petite, which normally never occurs.

He’s clean shaven with short, dark hair. Two sharp horns twist from his forehead, short enough to be mainly hidden from view when he wears his hat. Very prominent tusks used to jut up from his lower lips, but they’ve recently retracted enough to be barely noticeable. His chest is so very wide and he has powerful, muscular arms. And I really enjoy how his ass looks in that uniform.

I push my hair back from my forehead and rub at the flour on my nose and continue to daydream about life in general. I fill up a mixer with ingredients and switch it on and wonder about a future filled with a loving husband and children. This is what I want, children who hopefully would enjoy growing up in this town too, as I did, with their extended family and would they like this bakery as much as I do.

I’m twenty-eight years old and have worked hard to create this life for myself. The only thing missing now is my own family. I’m so far from this though as to be laughable. I don’t even have a boyfriend. Most of the guys I met in college and in my former job, were only interested in short term commitments. None of them were looking for anything serious. And since I’ve returned home, I’ve only gone out on a few dates that didn’t go anywhere.

I’m looking for someone to commit with, not hook ups, drama or STDs.

My sister’s new motto is: being alone is better than being with the wrong person.

I feel the same. This is how I feel like I’m the only woman my age who is still a virgin. I haven’t even admitted this embarrassing fact to any of my sisters, not even to Lila. I want a hot sex life, but I’m waiting for the right person to share this with, and that might sound old fashioned to some, but that’s just how my brain works.

Meanwhile, my sex toys have been great, keeping me occupied until I find that man who can take over their job.

And I can’t stop thinking of that handsome orc, and his amazing ass, even though we’ve never spoken and he literally crosses the street to avoid me. But he avoids lots of women, so I try not to take it personally. He must have no idea how great he looks in that uniform. All the other deputies look like puny cos play part timers compared to the impressive Sheriff Underwood. All the women in town secretly swoon over him as he stomps down the street. He ignores most of them, well except for that darn Amanda Amato. He’s always taking the time to talk to her when she comes into town. Everyone thinks she’s now become his girlfriend, which makes me sad.

“Sadie Powell why are you always here alone?” a deep voice questions.

I squeak and jump, almost dropping a bag of pecans.

The intimidating orc I’ve been daydreaming about stands in the open doorway, filling the entire space and basically blotting out the sun. Bowen Underwood. The same orc I’ve been crushing over since the moment he arrived in town.

I turn off the music so I can hear him better. “Sheriff Underwood? Good morning.”

His shoulders are so very wide. His thighs so thick. His uniform is perfectly pressed and molded to his body in all the right places. And those tusks that still peek from the corners of his lips somehow do it for me. I’ve always loved a man in uniform so I feel swoony just from him standing nearby.

But he’s taken. I need to remember that.

Stay strong Sabine, don’t throw yourself at him. Act normal. Normal.

A muscle twitches in his jaw. “Your door was unlocked and you’re here alone,” he repeats.

I walk around a counter and down an aisle so I can get a better look at him. Maybe a little too close but what the hell, this might be my only chance. I lift my chin and pull off my plastic gloves. “Oh, yeah, I usually leave it like that so it’s easy for my sister to enter and not have to wait for me to unlock the door. By the way, I’m Sabine Powell, the co-owner of this bakery.”

“I already know who you are. This is not safe. Someone could come in here and attack you.”

I blink. “Why would anyone in Silver Lake do something like that?”

He frowns.

I shrug and shift on my feet because there’s a persistent heat between my thighs that only this man can put out. Then I go and wash and dry my hands.

Up close, his green skin looks amazing and I had no idea his eyelashes were so long. I want to offer him a cupcake, but nothing is decorated yet. My sister is arriving soon and she’s the one who’s turning into the master decorator. I’m better at making and experimenting with a variety of base mixes and getting them out of the ovens in perfect time.

I return and smile brightly, my mind whirring with all the ways I might be able to talk him into sitting and staying for a while so I can get to know him better. “It’s nice to finally have a chance to meet you, Sheriff Underwood. Why are you here this early? Is there something you need to talk to me about?”

He takes out a pair of handcuffs. “I’m here because you’re under arrest.”