And then she was gone, hurrying back across the snow-covered grass towards her cottage, her skirt swirling around her luscious ass and her scent lingering in the cold air like a promise.
He stood in his doorway for a long moment, holding a plate of brownies he definitely shouldn’t eat and watching a woman he definitely shouldn’t want disappear into her cozy little house.
“Well.” Flora’s voice came from approximately three feet to his left. “That was painful to watch.”
He didn’t jump. He refused to give her the satisfaction. Instead, he turned his head slowly, unsurprised to find the tiny orc female standing on his porch like she’d materialized from thin air.
“Where the hell did you come from?”
“I’ve been standing here for five minutes.” Her tracksuit today was electric blue, with the words “OLD ENOUGH TO KNOW BETTER, YOUNG ENOUGH TO DO IT ANYWAY” emblazoned across the front. “You were too busy making moon eyes at your new neighbor to notice.”
“I was not making moon eyes.”
“You were absolutely making moon eyes.” Flora skipped past him into his house without invitation, heading straight for his kitchen. “Put a shirt on, Benjamin. We need to talk.”
“Don’t call me that.” He followed her into the house, setting the brownies on the counter and grabbing a t-shirt from the back of a chair. “And I don’t recall inviting you in.”
“You never do. I come anyway.” She hoisted herself onto one of his bar stools, her short legs swinging. “Now. Let’s discuss why you’re being an idiot.”
“I’m not?—”
“She brought you brownies.” Flora jabbed a finger at the plate. “Homemade brownies. Award-winning brownies. And you stood there like a constipated gargoyle and said ‘thank you’ like the words were being pulled out of you with pliers.”
“I was being polite.”
“You were being a coward.” Her black eyes glittered. “Six years, Benjamin. Six years you’ve been hiding in this town, running your tavern, keeping everyone at arm’s length. And now a perfectly lovely female moves in next door—a female I specifically selected for this house, I might add?—”
“You what?”
“—and you’re going to mess it up because you’re too scared to let anyone close.” She pointed at the brownies again. “Eat one.”
“I don’t need your matchmaking efforts, and I don’t eat sweets.”
“Eat. One.”
Since Flora was even more stubborn than he was, he scowled and peeled back the plastic wrap. The scent hit him first—rich, dark chocolate with hints of vanilla and brown sugar. His mouth watered, and he took a bite.
Oh, fuck.
The brownie was perfect. Dense and fudgy and just the right amount of sweet, with a depth of chocolate flavor that borderedon sinful. It tasted like comfort and home and everything he’d been denying himself.
It tasted like Sara.
“See?” Flora’s smug voice broke through his momentary chocolate-induced stupor. “Delicious, isn’t she?”
“The brownie,” he corrected automatically. “The brownie is delicious.”
“Mm-hmm.” Flora hopped down from the stool, looking far too pleased with herself. “A word of advice, Benjamin. That girl is special. She’s warm and kind and looking for somewhere to belong. Don’t be the reason she doesn’t find it.”
“I’m not looking for?—”
“I know what you’re not looking for.” Her voice softened, losing some of its usual mischief. “But sometimes the things we need find us anyway. Try not to bite her head off when they do.”
She was at the door before he could formulate a response.
“Oh, and Benjamin?” She glanced back over her shoulder, eyes twinkling. “Spring is coming early this year. Even for those of us who think we’re immune.”
The door clicked shut behind her.
