Page 6 of Bidding on the Orc Outcast (Sweet Monster Treats)
CHAPTER SIX
V arek led the way down the path that curved around his cabin, worn smooth from his frequent trips. Posy followed, her footsteps light and quick compared to his, and he automatically slowed his pace to accommodate her. He’d fenced in the area behind the house in a not entirely successful attempt to keep the deer away from his gardens. Most of them laid fallow under a blanket of snow, only a few hardy varieties still visible, but the greenhouse was a riot of color.
He stopped to unlatch the gate, then waved her through. Her eyes widened as she took in the greenhouse.
“That’s amazing. Did you build it?”
He nodded, unexpectedly pleased by her appreciation. He pieced it together over months, carefully assembling the discarded windows he’d collected like pieces of a puzzle until they formed a weatherproof shelter for his plants. Each pane told its own story - the arched window from an abandoned church, square panels from a demolished schoolhouse, even a few broken stained glass windows discarded from Garrick Stonehaven’s mansion that he’d meticulously repaired.
The result looked nothing like the sleek greenhouses in his gardening magazines, but it suited the location. It suited him. The fact that she seemed to understand that made something inside him warm.
He held the door for her, ducking his head to follow her into the section he used for his workshop - shelves lined with bottles and a variety of mortar and pestles, along with more modern equipment.
“Are these all medicinal?” she asked.
“Most of them.” He picked up a small glass bottle filled with amber liquid. “This one’s pine and cedar. Good for muscle aches.”
“May I?”
She held out her hand, and he passed her the bottle, careful not to let their fingers brush. She uncapped it and inhaled, her eyes closing in appreciation.
“That’s wonderful. The scent is so… clean and earthy.” She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Did you grow the ingredients?”
“I collected those, but yes, I grow most of my plants.”
He opened the door to the larger section of the greenhouse, extending almost thirty feet, and the familiar scent of earth and growing things surrounded them. Even in the depths of winter, life flourished here. Climbing vines wrapped the support beams, their tendrils reaching toward the glass ceiling. Herbs filled every available space - some in neat rows in the wooden planters he’d built, others sprawling wild in terracotta pots.
The mismatched windows filtered the morning light, casting a patchwork of shadows across the plants. Mist drifted above the water barrel in the corner, where he collected rainwater for watering.
Her eyes widened as she looked around his sanctuary.
“Wow, it’s like a jungle in here. Is that a silly thing to say?”
“Not at all. It’s very accurate.” The steamy warmth, the lush vegetation, the smells that were both familiar and exotic.
“It’s certainly warm enough to be a jungle.”
She grinned at him as she slipped off her coat. She wasn’t wearing anything fancy - a pair of faded blue jeans and a soft sweater with a beaded neckline - but they clung to her curves in a way that made his mouth go dry again. In the bright light of the greenhouse he could see the smattering of freckles that spread across her nose and cheeks, and the golden strands amidst the dark waves of hair. His fingers tingled with the urge to reach out and touch her hair, to see if it was as soft as it looked.
She turned and caught him staring at her. Pink colored her cheeks, but she didn’t say anything, just started wandering down one of the narrow paths between the beds. He followed her as she explored, eagerly examining the wide variety of plants.
“These are pretty. What are they?”
She bent over to examine a cluster of pink flowers and her jeans tightened across the generous curve of her ass. He swallowed hard, trying to focus on the flowers instead of his body’s response to the tempting sight.
“Those are wild geraniums. They’re native to the area. Good for stomach aches and migraines. I’ve been working on cultivating a hybrid, though, something that will produce more blooms and grow in a pot.”
He pointed to a pot containing a smaller version of the plants she’d been admiring and she nodded thoughtfully.
“This is a lot more involved than just gathering wild herbs, or even growing them. I don’t know a lot about it, but I do know it takes a lot of skill to hybridize plants.”
The tips of his ears heated at the praise, but she only smiled and moved on. The greenhouse felt smaller with her in it, but not uncomfortably so. Instead her presence added something - a warmth different from the humid air that nourished his plants. He found himself wanting to show her more, to share the knowledge he’d gathered over years of working with these herbs.
“This is forest sage. It only grows in certain spots around here but the oils help with headaches.”
Her small fingers delicately stroked the soft leaves, and he had a momentary vision of those fingers on his skin. His body threatened to respond to that image as well and he quickly moved on, pointing to a cluster of delicate purple flowers. “Lavender. Good for sleep, anxiety.”
She stroked those leaves as well, then brought her fingers to her nose and inhaled.
“Is that where the scent is? It smells so fresh and clean.”
“The scent is in the leaves and the tiny hairs that cover the leaves and the stems, called trichomes.” He ran his own fingers over the leaves, demonstrating, and she nodded. “They contain tiny droplets of the oils.”
“Can I taste it?”
He nodded, watching as she took a small leaf and put it in her mouth. Her eyes closed, and he saw her mouth move as she savored the flavor.
“That’s really good,” she said a moment later. “I can see why people would pay a lot of money for these oils.”
He shrugged. “I don’t charge a lot.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t need a lot.”
“And you only sell them online?”
“Mostly.” He hesitated. “I also sell some to Gladys and Jeremiah, as well as Dr. Jekyll.”
Her eyes widened again.
“Dr. Jekyll? Like Jekyll and Hyde?”
“Not exactly, and his real name is Dr. Jackson. But there are some similarities.” Her mouth opened again and he decided he didn’t want to encourage her curiosity about another male. “I sell to the apothecary shop as well, although I’d prefer you didn’t mention that to anyone.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m not sure everyone in town would appreciate the source. The distillation process varies from plant to plant,” he added, changing the subject. “Some oils come from the flowers, others from roots or leaves. And distillation takes time. I have to be careful with the temperature and the timing.”
“Fascinating,” she murmured as she followed him back into the workshop section of the greenhouse.
“I dry some of the herbs as well.” He pointed to a rack of drying herbs above them, filling the air with their mixed fragrances. He’d built the system himself, ensuring proper airflow to prevent mold. “Different plants need different drying times. Too fast, they lose potency. Too slow, they spoil.”
“This is really impressive, Varek.” She picked up a bottle of lavender oil and took an appreciative sniff, then gave him a thoughtful look. “Have you ever considered using some of the oils to create scented candles? I think they’d sell really well in my shop.”
His first instinct was to dismiss the idea - it would mean more interaction with the town - but the idea had merit. Candles were a natural extension of his work with oils.
“I don’t know anything about candle making.”
“It’s not hard. I used to make them with my grandmother at Christmas every year. Believe me, if you can cultivate all these plants, you can make candles. I could even help if you wanted me too.”
He liked the idea of working with her a little too much, but the thought of his products sitting in her shop window, drawing attention…
He shook his head. “I don’t think the town would want-”
“I think the town would love them.” She touched his arm, her small hand warm through his flannel shirt. “Your oils already help so many people. Why not let them enjoy them in other ways?”
“I suppose I could do a test batch,” he conceded.
Her smile hit him like summer sunshine.
“We could try different combinations. Lavender for relaxation, citrus for energy…” She gestured at his herb collection. “You have so many options.”
He nodded slowly, already considering the possibilities. And the thought of working with her made his chest tighten in a way that wasn’t exactly uncomfortable.
His other local clients - Gladys and the doctors - picked up their orders from a box on his porch. But he could deliver these to her. He could easily imagine dropping off fresh batches of candles and seeing her face light up as she arranged them in her shop window.
“I could deliver them myself.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. “To your shop, I mean.”
Her eyes widened. “You’d do that?”
The tips of his ears heated. “I’d need to make sure they were displayed properly. They’d be temperature sensitive.” A weak excuse, but she didn’t call him on it.
He moved to a shelf of dried herbs, brushing his fingers over the leaves to hide his nervousness. The scents helped ground him - rosemary, sage, lavender.
“I could add some of the dried herbs as well, to reinforce the scent.”
“And make them prettier.” She came over to join him, looking over the dried herbs. “You could do a whole line of relaxation scents, maybe themed to the seasons.”
He nodded slowly. “I have some wintergreen and fir needles I could add to a pine-scented candle. And I could make a springtime one with lemon and lilac, maybe a touch of rosemary.”
Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.
“I love it. We could even do a small launch, a little party for people to check out the candles.”
“A party?”
“You know. Some snacks, some music, some wine…”
He shook his head, even though under other circumstances, he thought he would enjoy attending such a gathering with her. “I don’t do parties.”
“You don’t have to. This would be a business event. You’d just need to drop off the candles. I can handle everything else.”
He hesitated, not sure how to explain his reluctance, but she didn’t pressure him.
“Where do you find all these plants in the wild?”
“Various places depending on the time of the year. There’s a meadow past the creek that’s full of yarrow and chamomile in spring. The north ridge has wild mint growing between the rocks.” His voice softened as he described each location, all of them special to him. “My favorite spot is this hidden valley where wintergreen grows thick under the pines. The whole place smells like Christmas.”
“That sounds magical.” She gave him a hopeful look. “Will you show me?”