Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Then I got out the steak and let it sit on a plate on the counter to get closer to room temperature while I made the salad. I got it all together in a bowl and then mixed a little oil and vinegar dressing to toss with the lettuce and other veggies right before I served it. I put all that back in the fridge, and then turned my attention to the steak.
Looking in one of the bottom cupboards, I found just what I needed—a huge, heavy, cast-iron frying pan. It was so big I had to lift it with both hands and I placed it on the flat topped stove carefully, mindful not to crack the glass. I certainly didn’t want to be accused of breaking anything in the house of such a powerful witch!
I had always wanted to try that steak preparation you see all over social media—you know, where you get the pan ripping hot, sear the steak, and then baste it in butter and fresh herbs? I must have watched vids like that over a hundred times—now I got a chance to try it out.
For my first-time cooking steak that way, I thought it went pretty well. When I finished, I let the steak rest and checked the potatoes. They were almost done—perfect!
I was setting the table when Rath wandered into the kitchen. He was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and nothing else except a towel around his neck. His long, thick black hair was damp and the cuts and wounds on his skin were already almost healed. Orcs must be magically fast healers, I thought. No wonder he hadn’t been worried about the bites from the Hydra.
I told myself I was just making sure he was okay, but I can’t lie—my eyes kept dropping from his muscular torso to the crotch of the sweatpants. Was that real? The equipment I could see dangling down the inside of his thigh looked absolutely enormous. It shouldn’t have been surprising, considering the rest of him was so big but still…
“It smells fucking amazing in here,” Rath remarked, lifting his nose to sniff the air.
I snapped my eyes back up to his face. Thankfully he didn’t seem to have noticed my interest in his package.
“Uh, thanks.” I smiled at him. “I used what Baba Yaga left for us. So we’re having salad, steak, and baked potatoes—I hope that works for you,” I added anxiously. “I mean, you’re not a vegetarian or Vegan or anything, are you?”
He rumbled laughter.
“Hardly. I didn’t mean for you to have to make supper, but I’m happy you did. Thanks for cooking.”
I blushed.
“It’s no trouble. I like cooking. It’s cleaning up afterwards I don’t love.”
“Then I’ll wash the dishes after we eat,” he offered. “It’s only fair.”
“Works for me.” I gestured at the table. “Have a seat—the baked potatoes are almost done.”
We both ate hungrily, though I probably ate less than I usually would. I was nervous at the idea of spending the night with the big Orc.
I was hoping something romantic would happen—I still felt incredibly drawn to him in a way I had never felt with any other guy. But I couldn’t help remembering what a disaster the night before had been after I drank the purple potion and told him my sad dating history. Possibly I had turned him off of wanting to be with me—I wouldn’t blame him if that was the case.
After we finished supper, we cleared the table and washed the dishes. Well, Rath did, anyway. I tried to help but he shook his head.
“No—you go sit down. I made up the fire before I came back here, so it should be nice and warm. Why don’t you relax on the couch and take it easy?”
“I really don’t mind helping, though,” I protested, wanting to be near him.
But Rath was firm.
“No, you need to rest. After the magic you did today, you’re bound to be tired.”
I did feel kind of fatigued but I had put that down to hiking through a blizzard, fighting a Hydra, and cooking supper. I hadn’t thought about the fact that doing magic might take a physical toll on me, but I guessed it made sense.
“Oh…okay.” I nodded and went back to the living room.
A hand-knitted afghan had appeared on the back of the deep leather couch and I cuddled under it as I snuggled on the cushions. It was fully dark except for the firelight, which was really nice. I felt surprisingly peaceful as I stared into the flickering flames.
“Hey, you like strawberry ice cream?” Rath’s deep rumbling voice asked.
“Hmm?” I looked up from my contemplation of the fire and saw him standing there, holding two bowls in his hands.
“I said, do you like strawberry ice cream? I found some in the freezer—it’s the good stuff, really premium,” he added.