Page 5 of The Orc’s Sweetheart (Creatures & Cottages)

Chapter 5

Tilly

F uck, what a first impression.

Audrey would either laugh at me or scold me if she saw me right now, huffing and puffing my way up this hill with an orc-sized cart filled with what I’m sure is one ton of luggage on top. But I’d rather be in physical pain than have to suffer another second with Bodin’s judgment hovering over me.

That male. That mean male. That mean, tall, handsome male and his ridiculously muscly arms and broad shoulders and shiny, floppy hair. And his stupidly rugged hands and deep sultry voice that almost had me creaming my panties with the way he said his own name. Ugh. It’s like logic left my body the moment he parted his full lips.

I finally crest the hill that didn’t look as steep as it felt, and I celebrate that accomplishment with an internal dance and raising of fists. If I set the cart down now though, I might never pick it up again. I thought my suitcase was my Everest this morning, but it seems there was a lesson to be learned.

That superior nonhuman strength would come in handy about now. Could the island please have magical properties that’ll let me make a wish for extra strength? Though, if I were to be granted a wish, would I want it to be for super strength?

I’ve just got to keep going a little farther and then I can give my lungs and sore muscles a breather.

Almost there. Almost there. Almost there.

When I reach the fork in the road Beryl mentioned, and I’m sure no one can see or hear me, I carefully set down the handles and bend over with my hands on my knees, inhaling big gulps of air. I’m so tired, I can’t even fully appreciate the rolling green hills around me and the lazy waves crashing below.

Wiping away my sweat-stache with the back of my hand, I feel grateful no one is here to bear witness to me in this disheveled state. Kraken Cove stretches out down below and I allow myself only a brief glance—promising the beach I’ll appreciate its beauty at a later, calmer time—before staring at the cobbled path continuing toward another small hill.

I will not underestimate these hills again.

I look at the cart, then back at the path a couple of times, and realize I need to think logically and set my pride aside for a second .

Considering the soreness of my palms, the quivering of my thighs—and not the good kind—plus how far I still have to go, I might have to break this trip up into more manageable portions.

Decision made and pride swallowed, I set my plan in motion.

First, I push the cart off the path, in case it might be in someone’s way, but also to partially hide it from Bodin, not wanting him to enjoy the evidence of my defeat.

Then, I take off my pretty loafers before I completely ruin them—or they ruin me—and change into my running shoes. I grab a bag to throw over each shoulder and a box to carry in my arms, then set off toward the cottage. It might take a few trips, but this way I don’t need to navigate the entire heavy cart in one go and risk injuring myself more than I already have.

I refuse to think of Bodin as I walk. I refuse to think of how his bulging biceps felt wrapped around me. Of how perfectly I fit in his arms. How I’ve never felt small, but with him…

“No, Tilly! Don’t even go there. Think about your patients. Think about Starry Hill. Think about all the creatures you’ll meet tomorrow,” I instruct myself, hoping if I speak out loud that it’ll stop my intrusive Bodin-centered thoughts and redirect my brain to think of my actual priorities.

At the base of two hills, I spot a quaint dark stone cottage and wonder if that will be my closest neighbor, and who that neighbor might be. Surely it won’t be Bodin. He probably lives in a cave under a hill, away from creatures who might breathe too loudly around him .

What would my name sound like when he says it? Would he call me Tilly like I suggested, or Matilda to keep things formal? Not like I’ll ever know because he clearly doesn’t like me and…

My mind blanks and I almost drop the box as the most picturesque cottage comes into view.

It’s love at first sight.

A yellow front door—just like I’ve dreamed of—creamy sandstone walls, a tiled roof, a garden filled with flowers in purple, pink, yellow, and blue, and a chimney calling for cozy evenings. In my mind, my future plays out behind that butter-yellow door and I instinctively know, deep down in my bones, that I made the right decision to move to Starry Hill.

With my end goal firmly in front of me, I push my muscles into motion to cover the remaining distance, just like I do when I’m on a long run and my body is reaching its limit.

I strengthen my grip on the box and raise my chin, allowing my smile to spread as excitement courses through my veins, and I practically float down the flagstone path toward my new home.

It didn’t even occur to me to ask Bodin for a key, but I balance the box higher on my arms so I can turn the knob, holding my breath in the hopes that it’s unlocked. Thankfully, luck is on my side, and I push the door open easily.

Placing the box on the floor and dropping the bags from my aching shoulders, I get my first real look at my home. Rustic exposed beams spaced evenly against the arched white ceiling make the small space feel big enough for any of Starry Hill’s residents .

To my left is the living room with large couches facing a fireplace that can heat the whole house. I can already imagine myself lying on a rug in the center of the room, scrapbooking supplies spread out around me as I decorate my memory book to my heart’s content.

I walk into the open-plan kitchen next and throw open the window to air out the cottage. It’s not particularly stuffy, someone must’ve ventilated it recently, but I can do with the extra breeze against my sweaty skin.

The gentle sounds of waves breaking on the shore filter into the house, along with the sweet fragrance of the flowers from the garden, and I stand still for a moment in a ray of sunshine beaming directly into my home, closing my eyes to take it all in.

This must be what heaven is like.

I practically skip to the bedroom at the back of the house, quirking my head at the excessively large bed with a rustic wooden frame taking up most of the space. I don’t need something of this size, but I can’t help thinking of spreading out across it, starfishing to my heart’s content, or snuggling under a mountain of bedding on a chilly night. After my twin bed in Audrey’s apartment, it could be a nice change.

I am most definitely not picturing Bodin in this bed, despite how well the frame suits him. He’d comfortably fit next to me, or… Nope. Definitely not thinking about that.

I wrench myself away from the unwelcome direction of my thoughts, and peek into the bathroom. There’s an old claw-foot bathtub that I know I’ll be in tonight, soaking away the aches and pains of my sore muscles. In the corner, there’s also a modern shower that must have been added more recently. This bathroom has the best of both worlds.

I open the tap in the basin and splash some water on my face, belatedly remembering there are no towels when I reach for one.

Of course there won’t be any towels. I’m the towel lady of the cottage and I have not provided any towels yet.

Doctor Knaggs said the cottage would come partially furnished, so it should have all the big items like couches and a bed. This very obviously does not include everything I’ll need. Like towels. Those are in one of the bags on the cart, which I’ll have to get back to momentarily.

As if timing couldn’t get any worse, there’s a soft knock at the door, followed by, “Anyone home?”

“I’m coming!” I call back and quickly wipe what I can away with my hands before heading for the open front door.

“Hello,” the visitor greets warmly, and my cheeks redden at the state I am. So far I’m failing miserably at my attempt at professional first impressions.

“Hi. Please come in,” I say and pull the door open wider. The dryad smiles serenely, her forest-green eyes twinkling as our gazes meet. She has the most exquisite crown of leaves braided into her long hair that reaches the backs of her knees, the greens complementing her golden-brown skin beautifully.

“Thank you, but I won’t stay long.” She holds up a wicker basket. The smell of fresh bread drifts to me and I almost start salivating. “I thought I’d bring our new nurse something to eat. The gods only know you won’t have anything prepared for your first day. With such a momentous, life-changing move, one hardly thinks ahead to dinner.”

I smile in relief. “You are absolutely right and sent by the gods. I haven’t even thought that far ahead.” I almost mention that I’m still working on getting my luggage here, but stop myself in time. She could be good friends with Bodin, and I don’t want my misunderstanding with him influencing anyone else.

I take the basket gratefully and incline my head. “Thank you so much for this thoughtful gift.

The dryad grins. “I got dibs on the first visit. Calla told everyone else to hold off until tomorrow. Said to let you get settled in today. If she hadn’t, there’d probably be a line out the door.”

“Oh, wow. I honestly didn’t expect that.” I widen my eyes when I realize I didn’t even ask her name. “Please excuse my manners. I didn’t introduce myself yet. I’m Tilly.”

She places a hand on her chest, the numerous vine bracelets around her wrists moving with the motion, and inclines her head at me. “I’m Annamae. I run The Flowering Teapot with my human mate, Richard. You’ll most likely meet him tomorrow when you’re in town, but someone had to stay behind and serve our customers while I popped out. Can I just say, all of Starry Hill is positively elated to have a fresh face on the island, and a nurse to boot!”

“I am so happy to be here and to meet everyone too. Did you say your shop is ‘The Flowering Teapot’? That’s such a lovely name. Is it a tea shop or a flower shop?”

Annamae glances over her shoulder, then steers me toward the kitchen. “No need to apologize. It takes a while to get used to the names. It’s Starry Hill’s café and bakery. All our shops are named after the images we display outside. It’s a tradition started hundreds of years ago when many of our inhabitants weren’t literate. Starry Hill has always aimed to be a very inclusive community and this was one way to convey that.”

I place the basket on the kitchen table and lift the lid. A fresh savory pie, a baguette, some cheese, and fruit are packed neatly inside and my stomach gives an involuntary rumble.

Inclining my head in thanks, I say, “Thank you so much. This was very thoughtful of you and Richard. I can feel Starry Hill’s welcoming spirit already. I can’t wait to meet everyone and to learn more about the town tomorrow.”

Annamae’s face lights up. “You can make a game of it.” She twirls her wrist in circles, and a bloom appears on the back of her right hand. “Sorry, that happens when I’m excited.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s beautiful. And please feel comfortable to be yourself around me. I’m aware of the various gifts Starry Hill’s residents can have.”

“Kind of comes with the job, doesn’t it?”

“It really does.”

“I was going to say, you can guess what kind of shops we have based on their names alone. Like The Dancing Daisy and The Winged Apple. We also have The Crowned Boot and The Horned Pearl.”

“I know I’ve heard of The Horned Pearl before. Doesn’t Beryl’s wife work there? Let me write all of these down so I can make some guesses tonight before I visit town.”

Annamae places her hand on top of mine, halting me before I go looking for a pen. “I like you, Tilly. You’re in the right place. You suit Starry Hill and I think Starry Hill will suit you too. I’m not sure what path led you to us, but I’m happy you’re here.”

A warmth expands through my chest. “That means a lot to me. Thank you. I think I’ll be very happy here. How could I not be if this beautiful cottage is my home? It’s like it’s been plucked straight from my dreams.”

“I wonder what else you’ll discover here that’s straight from your dreams,” Annamae says with a mysterious smirk and follows it with a wink.

Before I have time to respond to that cryptic sentence, Annamae walks toward the front door. “I’ve got to get back, but if you’d like, I can stop by again sometime and dance with your plants.”

“Really?” I ask, touched by the generous offer. I know small town hospitality is a thing, but I didn’t have particularly high expectations after this morning’s events. Annamae is quickly rewiring my brain.

“Of course,” she says like it’s the most obvious answer.

Leaning against the doorjamb, I look out at Annamae standing between the yellow forsythia and blue delphiniums, lightly touching on petals here and there before turning to the purple hydrangeas and pink peonies. A soft, nurturing energy radiates from her toward the flowers and they perk up with each pass.

“You’re welcome here anytime,” I say with a hand over my full heart. “I’m already in love with this garden, but have no actual experience in keeping one thriving. I could use whatever help I can get.”

Take that, Audrey. I asked for help. You’ll never know about my luggage debacle, but I’ll be sure to tell you about this.

Annamae makes her way toward the main path, calling over her shoulder, “It’s already thriving. Just like you will.”

I’m about to head inside again when something else catches my eye next to the fence leading to my garden.

Is that the rest of my luggage?