Chapter 4

Zoe

Six months ago, if you'd told me that I could read a book while someone sang off-key in the background, I would've laughed at you.

Well, actually, I wouldn't have laughed . But I likely would have scowled, because scowling is silent and doesn't run the risk of distracting me.

But for some reason, Luxor's singing didn't bother me. In fact, more often than not, it blended together into a hum in the background, which actually helped me concentrate.

A lot had changed in the last few months, I guess. If you'd told me I'd be the one to pop my orc roommate's cherry, I wouldn't have believed you.

"Grating up the cheese, we're grating up the cheese," he was currently singing in the kitchen to the tune of "Bringing in the Sheaves," one of those churchy songs I remember Mom singing when I was a kid. "Blessed be the parmesan, we're grating up the cheese."

Smiling ruefully, I shook my head and closed the book on my finger.

I was sitting on my couch in the living room, my feet up on his coffee table, taking notes for the essay I had to write tomorrow. This book was called Regina: The Queens Who Could Have Been , and was a history of the first-born daughters of the English crown. I was finding it really readable, and it had already moved to the top of my list of easy-to-digest history books I hoped to one day recommend to my patrons.

I jotted " Labeled chapters " in the notebook spread beside me, and recrossed my ankles, glad Lux didn't mind me propping my feet on his coffee table.

It had been surprisingly easy to combine our households; Lux told me his last house had been much smaller, while I'd rented an apartment a few streets over.

Between the two of us, we had just enough to furnish a house.

I closed my eyes and rested my head against the back of the couch. The couch where I'd straddled him last night. The couch where I'd taught him to kiss.

It made me feel…I dunno, powerful, I guess? I'd never felt powerful in a relationship before.

Had what we'd shared last night been enough to scratch his itch?

Lord knew it wasn't enough for me . If this was one of those romance novels I'd picked up from the library to try to read in between semesters, then the two of us would've jumped on each other as soon as I saw him waiting for me outside the restaurant after my shift.

I mean, that would've been difficult, considering the dude had been carrying an armful of grocery sacks in one hand, and the other hand balanced what had to be two hundred pounds of lumber across his opposite shoulder.

I hadn't been the only one admiring his impressive physique, let me tell you.

But the point was: this was real life. I had a degree to finish up, and a million job applications to fill out for towns on the mainland. We had jobs and responsibilities, and we couldn't be constantly fucking like rabbits, no matter how good it had been. Even if I wanted to be…

"Okay, next up is the heavy cream. I suppose I could use light cream." Lux was chatting away in the kitchen, and my lips curled further at the sound. "What's the difference between light cream and milk? When one goes bad it smells, when the other goes bad it steals cars—no, that's stupid, Lux, the punchline doesn't work."

I snorted. Not because the joke was funny—it was painfully unfunny—but because of how irritated he sounded at making up a bad joke.

"Zoe?" he called.

Shit, I guess he'd heard me. I hurried to open the book and pretended to be absorbed once more. "Hmm?"

From the corner of my eye, I saw him step over to the half-wall that separated the kitchen and living area. "How hungry are you?" he asked.

I made a show of sticking my finger in the book to mark my place—as if I'd been reading this whole time—and sniffing the air. "Well, if it's your famous linguine with clam sauce, I'd say I'm pretty hungry."

His expression split into his usual grin. "Excellent. I can't have you wasting away, spending all your energy on your schoolwork!"

I had to admit that I liked the way he liked to take care of me. A gal could get used to a roommate like that. Too bad I'd have to leave soon.

But I pretended to scowl, just so I wouldn't look like a besotted idiot. "But you'd better double-check your recipe. I don't think you need cream or milk."

Lux blinked at me, then his expression cleared, and he slapped his forehead. "You're right! I was thinking of—shit, what was I thinking of?" Shaking his head, he dropped his hand, still smiling. "I'd forget my own name if it wasn't written in my shirt."

While I watched, he reached around his head to grab the back of his shirt and pulled it around toward the front while simultaneously craning his neck sideways to peer at the material. I tried not to snicker. Or stare at the intriguing patch of hard green abs the movement revealed.

"Looks like I'm…" Lux made a show of squinting at the shirt's tag. "Tumble dry low, extra-extra-large?"

I couldn't help it this time: I snorted again, and to my surprise, it turned into a chuckle. Lux beamed at me, as if he'd won a prize. "You can call me ‘Large' for short."

"Thanks," I chuckled, lifting my book again to hide my smile. "I will."

Because he was large. The best sort of large. The largest I'd ever been with, that was for certain. I still ached in the best way from what we'd done last night.

Would he want to do it again?

Luxor began to sing again, this time to the tune of "Good King Wenceslas," which Mom had always hated—because she couldn't keep the lyrics straight—but my Grandpa loved.

"Roasting of the onions now, stinking up the kitchen!" Lux paused. "Damn, what rhymes with kitchen?"

Without looking up, I sang the next verse in tune, "Don't insult the garlic smell, I think that scent is bitchin'."

He whirled around to gape at me.

Noticing the silence, I lowered the book. "What?"

"Zoe, that was magnificent. You're a poet! A songwriter!"

I felt my lips twitch. "I'm hungry is what I am. How are the clams coming?"

He shook himself, turning back to the meal prep. "Clams are moist, my lady. Do you want a salad?" he called, his back to me once more. I opened my mouth to answer, when he continued, "Of course you want a salad, everyone likes my salads, they're awesome—oh shit, I'd better double the recipe, I promised Geez I'd bring him some. Not the salad. Where did I put that garlic? Garlic? Gaaarlic , where are—oh good, I thought I'd lost you. Come to papa, my precious alum. Alumni? Aluminum?"

I'd pressed my lips together to keep from laughing, and now I managed to call, "Allium."

"Thanks!" he called back without turning. "You'd think I could remember that. Pretty sure I once dated a girl named Allium. Oh dear, now I've lost my clams."

I dropped my book over my face to hide my silent chuckles.

Lux just... dictated , narrating his life in a way I'd never encountered before. On the other hand, I hadn't lived with anyone for a long time. Lux had lived with one of his friends before moving here, but from what I'd seen of the older orc, he didn't say much. So maybe this was just…I dunno, his way to hear dialogue?

It should be annoying. I was pretty certain it would be annoying…if it was anyone else. I was one of those readers who couldn't focus if there was anything besides white noise or classical music in the background. Having a chaotic presence like Luxor around should be really screwing with my ability to get my schoolwork done.

But…it wasn't.

Having him bustling around the house—cooking in the kitchen, vacuuming the living room, hell, even singing as he scrubbed toilets!—didn't distract me. In a few short weeks, it had turned into a pleasant background noise I didn't mind at all.

Which was quite an interesting observation, let me tell you!

I finished my notes on this chapter right around the time—judging from the narration—Lux finished up dinner.

"How dry do you like your clams?" he called.

I rolled my eyes. "No one likes dry clams, Lux! But the garlic bread smells good."

" Mmm , garlic bread. You want cheese on top?"

I stood up and stretched, piling my notebooks on top of my closed laptop. "I can't think of a single instance where someone said Oh no, more cheese wouldn't improve this dish at all. "

"Unless they're lactose intolerant." Lux was beaming as he carried a big salad bowl to the table. "You forgot about those poor souls."

"You're right," I deadpanned, moving to wash my hands. "I'm being lactose intolerant intolerant. My apologies."

"Wait!"

When Lux lunged for me, I didn't have time to gasp before his hand closed around my wrist. He tugged, and I stumbled against him.

Surprised, I stared up at him, but he merely offered a smile. "My linguine is in the sink."

"Is that a euphemism?"

His grin grew. "It could be. Do you want it to be? Or is this spy code? The linguine is in the sink. The ratatouille has left the building. My ravioli flies at midnight."

Ignoring his adorable nonsense, I craned my head to see, yes, in fact, there was a colander full of cooked pasta in the sink. Clucking my tongue, I pulled my hand from his and reached for the container.

"Here!" I thrust the linguine into his arms. "Moisten this!"

Lux clicked his heels together. "Yes chef! No dry clams, no chewy pasta, chef!"

Chuckling again, I washed my hands. Not atop his linguine.

Once my digits were suitably clean, I helped finish setting the table. This was a new tradition for me too, I had to admit. Actually sitting down like a civilized human to eat, instead of standing up in the back of the restaurant kitchen after my shift or hunched over a bowl of microwaved canned soup while I hurried to finish my homework.

But, oh . This was much nicer.

It reminded me of the meals my mom would strive for when I was a kid, in between the days when I wasn't doing Scouting, or gymnastics, or whatever extracurricular she was into me trying that semester.

"What dressing do you want?" Lux called from the fridge.

I was laying the garlic bread on the table. "None for me," I answered, sliding into my chair. "You know I like your salads plain."

"That's because you're a heathen. How could you not want ranch, if given the option?" Grinning, he came stomping over to the table with the salad dressing under his arm and carrying a pair of wine glasses and a bottle. " Herbs and spices , my ass. I grew up with herbs and spices, and ranch dressing is by far the best thing I've ever put in my mouth."

Suddenly, he paused in the motion of setting up the wineglasses and uncorking the bottle and sent me a wicked little smirk. "Well, maybe the second -best thing."

His meaning hit me, and I sucked in a breath at the same time I blushed. I could feel my skin heating, and I hurried to serve myself some of the veggies from the bowl.

"I think you're selling your salads short, Lux," I managed to choke out, as if he hadn't just referenced cunnilingus at the dinner table. "All these different ingredients? I like to allow the different flavors to explode…across…my…tongue."

I trailed off, my cheeks heating to the point where I was likely flammable. As I said the words, even I could hear the joke. The one I hadn't made, but which I was certain , if I snuck a peek at him, Lux would be thinking about too.

I'd like to feel you explode across my tongue .

It was true. I did .

One night with Lux hadn't been enough to satisfy me. I hadn't expected to want him again after I'd scratched my itch, but I did.

I wanted to teach him. I wanted to learn from him, even if we only had a short time together.

What were the odds he wanted that too?

He didn't say anything in response to my slip, but his hand worked into my vision when he reached across the table to set a glass of white wine—one of our local varieties—by my plate. His hands were large, just like the rest of him, and well-formed, his fingers thick and callused.

I remembered what they'd felt like last night. On me. In me.

"You know," he said cheerfully, conversationally, "I can scent when you're aroused."

" What ?" My gaze jerked up so quickly I probably pulled a muscle in my neck. He was blithely serving himself some pasta.

"One thing I've figured out in the last decade is that orcs have a far better sense of smell than humans. Giza used to give me shit about how it wasn't polite to bring it up, but I thought if I just mentioned it now, you might not be so embarrassed."

Oh God, we were well past me not being embarrassed . Shit.

You're not surprised by this, remember? He commented on your scent before you even made it to the bedroom.

It was easier to have this conversation with him not looking at me. "You're saying you can smell when I'm aroused?" It was something I'd suspected, sure, but me being me, needed to confirm. "Like, my scent changes?"

"Yep!" Smirking, he shoved a forkful of linguine into his mouth and finally met my eyes.

Oh .

Well. Well, how in the hell was I supposed to respond to that? Gee, thanks for the confirmation. I'll try to keep it under control? That would be silly. So I cleared my throat. "Good to know."

"I didn't say it was bad , Zo."

Strangely, this matter-of-fact conversation did help ease my embarrassment. And, to my surprise, my arousal. I suppose being told I smell isn't particularly arousing.

So I lifted my chin, huffed a little in what I hoped looked like irritation, and heaped some linguine onto my plate too.

It was really good.

"So…" I was desperate to steer the conversation to some place less embarrassing. "Giza tried to teach you how to live with humans?"

He snorted, reaching for the bread. "He hadn't been around humans any longer than I had. But after the reason I was sent along with the guys, I think it was hard for them—especially Geez—to think of me as anything other than a little kid who didn't know anything."

The reason I was sent along ? I knew the history of the orcs' first crossing into the human world; how after generations of fewer and fewer females, the councils decided to finally reach out to the humans who shared their planet, desperate for a chance to save their people. I assumed that first wave of orcs who crossed through the veil was all the same; intrepid, desperate warriors who needed outsiders' help.

But I shied away from that question. "How old are you, Lux?"

He shot me a grin. "Twenty-nine. I was almost twenty when I dragged myself into your world. How about you?"

"I'll be thirty-one in two months." Not so much of a difference. "So you're not the youngest of your group? Those first orcs to join our world?"

"Oh no, I'm definitely the youngest. The little brother ." He didn't seem bitter, but then, Lux never did. He just grinned slightly as he sipped his wine. "I'm just saying, I've been here the same amount of time as them. In fact, I probably spent more time hanging out with humans. I figured if I can be accepted by a shrimp trawler's crew, or working construction, or packing collard greens, or any of the other jobs I've done, humans wouldn't hate me."

"Humans don't hate you," I blurted, and then, surprised I'd offered the opinion without being asked, hurried to follow up. "You've really done all that stuff?"

"Oh yeah. I have the money Sakkara invested for us—your government's guilt-money after all those experiments they did on us when we showed up—but I'd be bored if I just sat around. So I tried to learn as much as I could. Mostly physical stuff, because I was glad to finally be able to. My favorite is construction, I think, just because it's really satisfying to create something with my hands, you know?"

My gaze dropped to his hands again. So large and callused…I swallowed. "I'll take your word for it. The only thing I've done with my hands is turn pages in a book."

He snorted and pointed his fork at me. It was rude, but I had to admit I loved how unabashed he was at anything.

It was impossible to imagine him abashed , now that I thought of it.

"That's because you're brilliant," he announced, nodding firmly. "I think it's amazing, all those books you read, all that stuff you know. You're going to be a librarian, and librarians are like, superheroes."

I felt myself blushing again and ducked my head. "I'm not going to disagree, because I think they are really cool." I just had to hope and pray I'd be able to find a job in a library once I finished school. "If I'd figured that out ten years ago, I could've gotten my degree in it instead of spending years waiting tables with a history degree."

It wasn't a lie. I'd always adored going to my local library when I was a girl. My mom, a hardworking single mother, had instilled in me the fabulousness of a public safety net like the library system. Stepping into that building had been the coolest feeling…like there were infinite possibilities. Plus, you know, any book I ever wanted to read.

I just wish it hadn't taken me an extra ten years to realize I wanted to help others feel that magic.

"Don't knock waiting tables. That's where I met you, you know."

I glanced up at his wide, honest grin, and admitted the truth. "I know. I served you and your friends a couple of times." There was no way I'd forget a table of orcs, but I'd always noticed Lux, mainly because of his good humor. "I didn't think you'd recognize me."

With a snort, he bent back over his meal, both elbows on the table. I loved how enthusiastically he ate. "I noticed you, Zoe. You have the most incredible ass."

The casually given compliment—was that a compliment? That he'd noticed my butt?—caused me to almost spit out my wine.

But I mean, it was good wine, so I made myself swallow it before convulsing into coughs.

And he sat there grinning. "Was that one of those instances I shouldn't have mentioned anything? Giza said I always miss those."

"Yeah," I managed, holding my napkin in front of my mouth. "He's right."

Lux shrugged unrepentantly and stabbed a clam to pop it in his mouth. "I'm just saying, if you'd become a librarian ten years ago, I wouldn't have met you."

And that would be… I slowly lowered the napkin. A shame. He was looking at me like he was thinking the same thing. But then he shrugged.

"Or maybe you would've gotten a job at the library here in town, and I would've met—no, never mind, I've only been in there once, to help unload that shipment. Mrs. Albee volunteers with me at the kennels, you know? She needed help. That's the only reason I'd go into a library."

I didn't like it when he disparaged himself, but my attention was distracted. "You know Eastshore's librarian?"

"I know lots of people." He shrugged. "Want me to introduce you? Hey!" Another fork-pointing. "She just asked for help getting the animal shelter ready for the hurricane. Want to come with me tomorrow? Since you're not working?"

He knew my schedule? I was surprisingly flattered. "Yeah, okay." Wow. "I mean, I know her, of course, but only…sort of in passing." She was the one I checked out my books from, after all. "She doesn't know I'm getting my MLS."

"I don't have one you can borrow," he said around a mouthful of bread, and I burst into surprised chuckles.

"A Master of Library Science. That's what my virtual studies are for. I have to admit, I like the virtual option better than the in-person program I did with my last master's degree."

He froze, eyes wide. "How many degrees do you have?"

"Two." I squirmed a little. I wasn't sure why, usually I was proud of my accomplishments. "I got my bachelor's degree in history, which turned out to not be particularly helpful unless I had a master's degree, so I went on to get that pretty soon after. But the main use for that was teaching, and I discovered after a year that I really wasn't cut out for teaching."

Lux hummed. "Don't like kids?"

"No, they're fine. In moderation." I sipped at the wine thoughtfully. "I'm just…not a good teacher. I mean, I can tell a story, but if you don't understand it, I'm kinda at a loss for how to explain it in a different way."

"Um…not really. No one ever asks me to explain anything to them, thank the gods. I'm just in it to learn new things."

And just like that, I remembered why he'd fascinated me. "What's the craziest job you've had?"

"Lineman," he answered promptly. "After one of the big hurricanes about five years ago, I went all around the southeast of the country, helping to rebuild. They wouldn't let me go up—I was twice the size of some of the other guys—but the equipment was lots of fun."

"That's amazing," I breathed.

"Oh, I also spent a season on an oil rig. I liked it but didn't love it. Not enough people to talk to, but it was pretty crazy. I've done a few trips to Mexico and Central America to help build houses, and I liked those."

It was official: Anyone—including me—who dismissed Luxor as a big, goofy idiot was seriously underestimating him.

"You've done so much good in this world," I whispered, wide-eyed. All I'd done was read a bunch of books.

But in true Lux fashion, he just shrugged and grinned as he reached for his wine again. "I like to work with my hands. I figure I can do anything if I have the right teacher."

I wasn't a good teacher, but… My gaze dropped to those hands. Could I be the right one?

He'd certainly learned quickly last night.

I swallowed, memories of his touch assailing me. Liquid heat pooled between my thighs. His nostrils flared.

"Hey, I have an idea," he announced suddenly, placing his wine glass down firmly. "Wanna have sex again?"

I was already standing. "Yes, please !"

Then he was there, sweeping me into his arms.

And grinning.