Page 11 of Bidding on the Orc Outcast

Instead he bolted, his boots pounding against the floor. He heard Flora calling him as he burst through the back door into the frigid night air. He ran until the lights of the town disappeared, until his legs burned and his chest heaved, then made his way back to his cabin.

The familiar walls closed around him, but they brought no comfort. He paced the worn floorboards. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Her scent clung to his hand and he found himself breathing it in. He scrubbed it angrily against his jeans, but the ghost of her touch remained. Soft. Warm. Trusting.

“Stupid,” he muttered. “What was I thinking?”

He hadn’t been thinking. That was the problem. One look from those warm brown eyes, one brush of her fingers, and years of carefully built walls had started to crack.

The fireplace sat cold and dark and he seized the opportunity to do something useful. He stacked logs with more force than necessary, then struck a match. The flames caught, warming the room, but they did nothing to warm the chill in his heart.

More pacing, his boots leaving marks on the floor.

She’ll hear the stories. Someone will tell her what happened. What they think happened.

Despite Flora’s dismissal, the people of Fairhaven Falls had long memories. They’d whispered behind his back for years, mothers pulling their children closer when he passed. One small act of kindness from a stranger couldn’t erase that.

“It’s better this way,” he decided, the words tasting like ash. “She deserves better than a monster who hides in the woods.”

But his traitorous mind kept circling back to that smile. To the way she’d looked at him without judgement or fear. To the warmth of her small hand in his. To those luscious curves wrapped in red silk.

He groaned and dropped his face into his hands. “Damn you, Flora.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Posy shifted from foot to foot on Varek’s porch, her heart hammering against her ribs. The worn wooden boards creaked beneath her vintage red boots as she remembered Flora’s words from the previous night after Varek had fled.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, dear. Varek is one of the finest males I know. But he’s stubborn and scared and… well.” Flora sighed. “Don’t give up on him.”

“Why did he run?” she asked, her cheeks still hot from the humiliation of his abrupt exit.

“Life hasn’t been kind to him. But he deserves some happiness. You both do.”

Flora had given her directions to Varek’s cabin, and she’d agreed to think about going to see him, then left through the back door, unable to face her friends. Both Robin and Elara had texted her but she’d simply told them she was fine and she’d talk to them later. She wasn’t exactly sure if she’d been afraid they’d try and talk her out of coming or if they’d encourage her instead.

But here she was, standing on Varek’s porch. The small log cabin was nestled in a clearing surrounded by towering trees, looking like something out of a fairy tale. She half expected to see a girl in a red cape coming down the path. The cabin suited him - rustic and solid, with herbs drying from the rafters of the covered porch.

She knocked again, harder this time, the sound echoing through the clearing. Maybe he wasn’t home. Most people were home on Sundays, but she suspected Varek wasn’t like most people.

Heavy footsteps approached from inside the cabin. The door swung open and her breath caught. Varek filled the doorframe, his face grim. His flannel shirt stretched across broad shoulders, the sleeves rolled up to reveal muscled green forearms.

“Hi.” Her voice came out smaller than she intended, and she cleared her throat. “I wanted to check on you after last night. You left so quickly.”

His tusks caught the morning light as his jaw worked. He gripped the doorframe, the wood creaking under his fingers.

“You shouldn’t be here.” The gruff words contrasted with the way his amber gaze roamed her face.

“Maybe not.” She lifted her chin. “But I am.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Why?”

“Well, I did win a date with you at the auction.” She did her best to keep her tone light and cheerful. “I thought we could figure out when and where.”

His fingers dug into the wooden doorframe. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know.” She tilted her head, studying the way the morning sun illuminated the strong lines of his face. “But I want to.”

A low rumble emerged from his chest. “Why?”

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