Chapter 3

Thebes

I was surprised by how nervous I was, pacing outside the bed-and-breakfast that evening.

Look, I've been on plenty of dates in the last decade. I knew what I was doing. But tonight? Tonight felt different.

Probably because the fate of Eastshore Isle possibly rested on my shoulders.

Every time the front door to The Rose Inn opened, I whirled around, my heart pounding. And then, when it was finally Ashlyn standing there, I felt the damn thing actually skip a beat.

I felt my heart stutter, and it was because she looked so perfect, poised there beneath the climbing rose vine that twined up the Queen Anne style porch.

Ashlyn Anderson wore a pair of fitted jeans, a pink silk blouse, and the perfect shade of lip gloss. Yes, I was noticing her lip gloss. And the way she'd obviously curled her thick brown hair, because it fell in waves over her shoulders.

I would tell you that it was my job to notice shit like that; my photographer's eye and my clients and sponsors had trained me to notice what brands people wore—although I wasn't judgy or anything—and I could appreciate beauty.

But I suspected it was more than that.

"Hi," she said shyly, knocking me out of my awed inspection.

"Hi!" I reached out my hand, and she came tripping down the steps to take it as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "I've missed you."

Gods below, she was adorable when she blushed. "I only met you a few hours ago."

"I still missed you," I whispered, staring down at her.

And somewhere in the back of my brain, a little Giza was offering me an enthusiastic thumbs-up, yelling Way to go, little brother! You're halfway to seducing her already! But the rest of me suspected this wasn't an act; I really had spent the last few hours looking forward to this moment.

I even flossed my teeth, for fuck's sake.

Clearing my throat, I turned us toward the fountain in the middle of the little square. "Are you hungry?" I asked as I tucked her hand into the crook of my elbow, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"I asked at the desk, and they said Pastabilities was the best Italian food on the island."

I flashed a grin down at her as we strolled. "It's the only Italian place on the island, but the diner does an amazing lasagna on Tuesday nights. It's their special that day."

"I'll keep that in mind," she quipped, her smile turning impish. "When I get sick of seafood, I'll give them a try."

"Oh, it's impossible to get sick of seafood in Eastshore. But the diner's real special is the burger. We'll go there tomorrow."

She made a noise that might've been a laugh at my boldness, might've been shock. I wasn't going to glance down and try to guess, because I was too busy trying to keep the wince from my face.

Way to go, idiot. You're already assuming there will be a second date ?

If I was going to save Eastshore, there had better be a second date. And a third and fourth one. I had a week to make Ashlyn Anderson fall in love with Eastshore.

And if that meant getting her to fall in love with me, then so be it.

"Here we are," I announced after a thirty-second stroll around the fountain. This block of Eastshore's historic district was built facing the center, and I wasn't sure who maintained the flower beds and bushes fronting each of the old, converted homes, but the front door of Pastabilities faced the B what I was scenting now wasn't strong…it was just the slightest hint. What made my Kteer growl in frustration was that it was the most delicious, most intriguing scent I'd ever smelled.

I wanted more of it.

Whoa, calm the fuck down, you're eating pasta on your first date.

My Kteer must be reacting so strongly to Ashlyn because of my mission to schmooze her, right?

"So," she was saying, "you're pretty good at this wooing thing, Thebes. Clearly lots of experience."

"I…have been on a date or two."

"Or forty-seven?"

I shrugged, suddenly a little embarrassed. "I've always been good…with people. Making them feel good, making sure I was fun to be around. I didn't have a lot of experience with women before coming to this world, because besides my mother, I didn't know any women, that was the point. But I showed up here, I learned English, and suddenly there was this whole other group of people I could…woo."

I could tell she was trying not to laugh. "So you became a playboy?"

I knew the word, and I couldn't deny it fit me. That's why Giza and Sakkara had given me this assignment, after all. "It's been fun," was all I said. Besides, that personality, that charm, had helped me build my online following.

Originally, I started posting on social media to share our story with the world. Sakkara had actually encouraged it eight years ago when we'd first gone our separate ways. I guess he figured I'd be the best one for it, and he was probably right. My videos gained a lot of attention—probably because I was the only orc on social media—and soon clothing companies and others were reaching out to me about sponsorships. I got pretty good at my own photography, and now my posts were a mixture of my work, candid videos, and modeling shoots.

Luckily, the waiter arrived with the wine then, and that production saved me from having to explain any of that to Ashlyn.

But when he left, she leaned forward, rested her chin on her hand, and stared at me. I was a little concerned she was going to follow up on the playboy comment, and I vowed to be honest with her.

Instead, she pinned me with that serious, soft gaze, and asked, "What was it like? To come to our world?"

She wasn't the first to ask me. Hell, she wasn't even the first woman to ask me that on a first date. To be honest, most of my first dates included this conversation, because most of my dates were with women who were only interested in me because I was an orc.

But instead of giving her a flippant answer, I found myself telling Ashlyn everything over fried calamari and a second glass of wine.

I told her how our world was slowly dying due to so few females being born in the last two centuries.

I told her how the elders had finally relented on our pleas to contact the humans and chosen me to be among that first cohort.

I told her about Sakkara's decision to make our emergence public, so we couldn't be hidden, and the way the military had been forced to turn us over to the scientists.

I told her about the months and months we'd spent locked in the research facility in Denver, how we'd learned about humans as they'd learned about us, and what we'd endured.

Hells, as our main dishes were delivered, I even told her about how the scientists had given us names of archeological sites, and how orcs took new names at important crossroads in our lives.

And through it all, Ashlyn asked insightful, empathetic questions. Her table manners were impeccable, and she had exquisite taste in wine…but she sure didn't act like the spoiled daughter of a powerful millionaire.

She didn't act like someone who was in town to sell off Eastshore's heritage to a greedy land developer. She acted like…well, someone who cared.

And since she cared, I figured this was my chance to really double down on the whole getting her to fall in love with Eastshore thing.

So, as we ate, I began what I hoped was a subtle campaign, telling her about how Sakkara had gathered us here to the island, and how the people of Eastshore had welcomed us and made us feel like we were part of something big once again.

"It's good to feel like we have a home. We've been scattered for so long."

Ashlyn smiled at that. "How long have you been here?"

I told her about showing up in time to help clean up after last month's tropical storm damage, and how I was closing on my house next week. "I'm staying with Sakkara and his daughter now, but honestly, I spend my days around town." Making videos and content for my channels, but I didn't mention that. "And since I'm a bit of a foodie, I've become an expert on our local menus."

From there, we talked about our favorite foods, and when I found out she had a sweet tooth, I became excited. " Okay, we're going to Meli's Bake Shoppe . She makes the world's best cookies. Oh! The tea shop!"

She lowered her fork. "As in, taking tea? I used to love doing that when I was a little girl, my mother would take me to her favorite spot."

I was nodding, thrilled by my brainstorming. "Patti's is right next door! She's only open for tea on the weekends, and she does special events." I'd pulled out my phone and was texting the owner, Patti Larue, as I spoke. "But during the rest of the week, the place is sort of Eastshore's museum."

It would be a perfect place to take Ashlyn and give her a taste of the island's history and the impact of this district. Maybe it would help convince her not to sell.

Patti texted back immediately. "Yes!" I grinned across the table. "Patti says she'll leave it unlocked until ten tonight, if you want to pop over after dinner."

"I'd like that." Her smile was soft as she arranged her utensils just so across her plate to show she was finished. "But not for tea, right?"

"No, I just thought it would be cool to show you the inside. She's restored the building to 1890s standards and furnished it with antiques. But we can totally go there Sunday afternoon for tea, if you'd like. Sundays are when Meli sends over different flavors of macarons. Wait, macaroons?"

I was afraid I was babbling. I never babbled. I was cool and suave when it came to the ladies. What was wrong with me?

You're feeling the pressure of saving Eastshore.

Yeah, that was it.

Ashlyn, however, was perfectly at ease. "Macarons are the sandwich cookies made with meringue and almond flour. Macaroons are dollops covered in coconut flakes. "

I frowned, pretending confusion. "No, no, you're thinking of elbow-shaped pasta."

She smiled. "That's macaroni . You're thinking of the president of France, right?"

"Emmanuel Macron?" I shook my head as if this was all serious. "You're thinking of a set of keystrokes—or alternatively, a really big scale-size."

It took her a moment, but her frown cleared with a huff of laughter. " Macro ? Ha! Are you sure you're not thinking of those loud jungle birds?"

Macaws! By now I was outright chuckling. "No, I mean the espresso drink topped with a cream design!"

She joined in. "Caramel macchiatos are my favorite. But are you sure you're not thinking of those yummy nuts that pair so well with white chocolate chips in cookies?"

"Macadamia nuts ? I knew we'd get back to cookies!" I managed in between chuckles.

She was giggling too hard to answer, but when I reached across the table to cover her hand with mine, she twisted and wrapped her fingers through mine.

And you know what? It felt good.

Better than good.

Holding Ashlyn Anderson felt right .