Page 120 of My Orc Has Big Tusks
Heat crawled up my neck. We were supposed to be professional during business hours.
His hand found my knee under the table.
My breath caught.
So much for professional.
His thumb traced a deliberate circle. Again.
Every nerve in my leg lit up.
I reached for my tablet, needing something to do with my hands that wasn’t grabbing his wrist or climbing into his lap in front of everyone.
“—creature safety training,” Krem was saying.
I’d missed at least thirty seconds of conversation.
Brovish’s thumb kept moving, creating slow, steady circles that made it impossible to focus on anything except the heat of his palm through my pants and the fact that his expression remained completely neutral while he was destroying my ability to think.
“She’ll need creature safety training,” Krem said. “If you’d like, Traig, I can prepare a comprehensive orientation schedule with appropriate learning modules and assessment standards.”
“Make it two pages or less,” Traig said.
“Two pages is insufficient for?—”
“Two pages, Krem.”
Krem sighed but made another note.
“Will she object to the mossnibble thievery?” Drogar asked. “Some humans become attached to their possessions and express distress when others redistribute them.”
“We’ll establish boundaries,” Brovish said. His thumb traced a circle on my knee.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.
“That’s not how mossnibbles function,” Drogar said.
“Then we’ll explain that theft is the way they express love.”
Drogar considered this. “That’s quite accurate.”
We spent another twenty minutes working through the logistics while Brovish continued to tease.
After we’d finished, Drogar caught my arm as I stood. “You’re glowing.”
“I’m not?—”
“You are.” His grin was knowing. “It’s the claiming shine. Very traditional.”
Krem appeared at my other elbow. “I’ve documented seventeen post-claiming behavioral changes in my research. Would you be willing to?—”
“No,” Brovish said from behind me, his hand settling on my back. “She would not.”
Krem sighed but didn’t argue.
Late afternoon, everyone left for their homes or final rounds, and I drifted toward the garden.
The bench where my mother had sat during the claiming ceremony drew me near.
