Chapter 5

Grondar's scowl didn't lessen as Holdar climbed out of the truck.

"So you're finally back?"

"Temporarily."

"It's always temporary. Don't you know your brother -"

Grondar's mouth dropped open as Trish hopped out of the truck behind him. As she did, her sparkly dress slipped to the ground, leaving her wearing nothing but his shirt. It covered far more of her than her dress had done, but he still instinctively started to move in front of her. She immediately tried to step around him, giving Grondar her sweet smile. He didn't like that either, even though he knew his cousin was very happily mated.

"Hi. I'm Trish. Are you really Holdar's cousin?"

Grondar recovered enough from his shock to nod.

"Unfortunately. Do you need help?"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" he growled, and Trish hastily put her hand on his arm.

"I'm sure he was just being nice, weren't you?"

"When you show up at the crack of dawn in a town you usually avoid like the plague with a half-dressed woman in tow, I assume something's wrong. And since you wouldn't ask for help if your life depended on it, I assume she's the one in trouble. So yes, I was being nice."

Oh. When Grondar put it like that he could see the logic. He unclenched his fists.

"Thank you," he muttered. "But I have a plan-"

"Which didn't include food," Trish interrupted, giving his cousin a hopeful smile. "I don't suppose whatever you're baking that smells so delicious is ready, is it?"

Grondar actually relaxed enough to smile back at her.

"I just took a batch of muffins out of the oven. Would you like one?"

"We really don't have-"

They both ignored him and Trish slipped under his arm faster than he'd expected. She stumbled when she reached the steps up to the back door, the high-heeled sandals she was still wearing catching on the rough cement. He caught her, sighed, and lifted her up on his hip as he carried her up the stairs. Grondar cast a fascinated look from him to the sparkly heels, then shook his head.

"Do I even want to know?"

"No."

Trish didn't seem the least bit bothered that he was carrying her, peering around at the spotless kitchen instead as he placed her on one of the metal counters.

"This is a real bakery. I never thought of an orc as a baker."

"Why not?"

Grondar frowned at her, and she laughed.

"Probably because Holdar is the only orc I know, and I can't imagine him in a kitchen."

"I know how to cook," he said gruffly.

His inability to feed Trogar properly had haunted him, and he'd taught himself the basics as soon as he had access to food and a kitchen. Perhaps she saw something in his face because she patted his arm again and smiled.

"That's just as well since I can't. Except for sugar cookies. I make those every year for Christmas."

He belatedly realized that even though he'd put her down, his arms were still around her. He took a hasty step back as Grondar gave her an interested look.

"What recipe do you use?"

As she described it, his cousin filled a plate with muffins, then poured two cups of coffee and brought it all over to them. Trish took a huge bite, then moaned ecstatically.

"Oh my God, these are so good. What do you call them?"

"I call them Blueberry Lemon. Elara calls them Morning Sunshine."

Despite the disgruntled tone, Grondar's face softened as it always did when he referred to his mate.

"That's a perfect name for them."

Pleased to see her eating, he took his own muffin then grunted appreciatively. His cousin might be an annoying bastard sometimes but he certainly knew how to bake. His coffee was just as good, but Trish gave her mug a hesitant look.

"I don't suppose you have any cream? I never really learned to drink black coffee."

"Neither did Elara." Grondar retrieved a pitcher of cream, then shook his head as she added enough to turn the coffee a shade lighter than her skin. "I should have just added a drop of coffee to the pitcher."

He found himself sharing an amused glance with his cousin as Trish gave them both a sunny smile.

"That would have worked too. This is much better."

She ate another muffin, then gave her stomach a satisfied pat. Why was it that every time she touched herself, he wanted to be the one doing it? Pushing that thought aside, he hastily turned back to Grondar.

"We should get going before any more people are up and around."

"Where are you going?" The earlier scowl reappeared on his cousin's face. "You'd better be planning on going to see Trogar."

"I am," he said stiffly.

"Good. You really need to make peace with the past."

How can I?

Without answering, he turned and lifted Trish down. She wobbled, then gave him a plaintive look.

"I think I'd be better off without these shoes."

"You're not walking around outside without shoes."

"Or in my kitchen," Grondar added, raising an eyebrow.

He sighed and picked her up again, and she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

"You're such a gentleman."

He heard his cousin snort but he refused to look at him as he carried her back outside to the truck.

"Thank you for the muffins, they were wonderful. And the coffee," she called behind him. "I hope we-"

He closed the truck door on her unnecessary gratitude and scowled at his cousin who was looking amused again. Then he reluctantly saluted him and climbed back into the truck. Time to face the music.

"Your cousin seems nice," she said cheerfully as he drove down the alley, then turned left towards the Town Square.

"Nice? That's not how most people describe him. Although I suppose he has… mellowed since he found his mate."

She started to respond, then looked out the window and gasped.

"Oh, look at all the flowers. Your town is so pretty."

"It's not my town. But it looks nice enough," he added reluctantly, following her gaze. The azaleas were in full bloom, along with the wild cherry trees and the crabapples. The planting beds around the square were still filled with brightly colored tulips and colorful flowering baskets hung from every lamppost on Main Street. "Romus, the town gardener, is a satyr - they're good with plants. As are the dryads and some of the fairies."

Her eyes went wide.

"All of those people live here? There aren't many Others in Atlanta."

"Most of us - most of them - don't like big cities."

She gave him a speculative look.

"Does that include you?"

He didn't really care for cities either, but that was more because of his memories than because of the separation from the natural world. Since he didn't want to open that can of worms, he just shrugged. A little to his surprise, she let it drop, but her next topic made him equally uncomfortable.

"What type of Other is Grondar's mate? Is she an orc too?"

For a cowardly moment he almost let her assumption stand, but he eventually shook his head.

"No, she's human."

Elara was a curvy little blonde who had Grondar completely, and happily, wrapped around her little finger. Since she seemed equally devoted to his cousin, he couldn't fault the male.

"Human? That's interesting." Her provocative look went straight to his cock but he did his best to ignore it. He might have succeeded if she hadn't added innocently, "I guess the size difference isn't a problem after all."

The truck swerved over the center line and he hastily jerked it back, glad that no one was coming. She laughed, then leaned back against the seat and yawned.

"Are we going to stay with your brother?"

"No." He'd stayed with Trogar before but he'd done his best to stay out of the way. He had a feeling that would be impossible with Trish along. "But there's a cottage on his property we can use. With two bedrooms," he added when she gave him a teasing glance and started to say something.

"Pity."

Yes, it is, but it's best for both of us, he told himself sternly as they reached the outskirts of town and drove down the quiet street towards Trogar's house. More flowers were blooming around the big, two-story house but he barely noticed them. A grim Trogar was waiting on the front porch, along with his pretty mate, their daughter, and even worse…

"Gran."