Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Rona
Saltford Bay turned out to be an exquisite little town.
We’ve been shopping for about two hours, going from one shop to the next to purchase winter-appropriate clothing. Turns out, the bitter cold of Maine in January is quite enjoyable when one is not freezing to death.
As I walk on the salt-covered sidewalk, my breath fogging, snow squeaking under my brand-new winter boots, toasty in my brand-new puffy coat, I feel giddy despite everything that's happened in the past few days.
The cozy beauty of the small coastal town spreads before me like a winter postcard, complete with snow-covered rooftops and snowmen draped in red scarves guarding front lawns.
In contrast with my good disposition is Darhg.
The ogre looms behind me, massive and scowling, his arms loaded like a very irritated pack mule.
Boot boxes swing from his left hand, four bags full of warm sweaters, socks, thermal leggings, and toiletries hang from his right arm, and one bakery bag swings from his pinkie finger like it personally offended him.
I beam up at him from inside my kitten-soft new scarf. "It's called retail therapy. You should try it sometime."
"You bought the same hat in three colors," he deadpans.
"I sure did," I chirp, absolutely delighted with myself.
His eyes narrow at me, but I catch the way the corner of his mouth twitches. Just barely. Like he's fighting a smile and losing. That big grump is just begging me to tease him!
I point excitedly at a chalkboard in front of The Wandering Gnome diner promising the best chowder in the state.
The windows of a home decor shop called Primrose Pristine Home Decor twinkle with tiny twinkling lights, and I make plans to visit the shop before this is over.
Plans that I keep to myself. It’s adorable, and I can't help but skip a little on the sidewalk with shameless joy.
The town feels like something out of a movie, with all brick buildings and old-fashioned streetlights, bundled townspeople hurrying between shops with their arms full of shopping bags.
“You bought enough clothes for someone living in the Arctic,” Darhg mutters as he somehow manages to pull me away from the frosted window of an adorable little bookshop. “No one needs this much.”
"I still need a flannel shirt." I list the items I still have to buy as we walk. "Earmuffs, leg warmers. At least I had the foresight to get us an emergency cinnamon roll for morale."
Darhg's voice is bone-dry. "That last one isn't even a winter supply."
I lift the bakery bag from Darhg’s finger and inhale the sweet, spicy scent escaping through the paper. "It is now. Sir."
The look he gives me could melt the snow off the sidewalk as I hand it back to him.
The morning air is crisp and clean in my lungs, carrying the salt scent of the nearby ocean mixed with woodsmoke from chimneys and the green smell of pine.
Everything feels fresh and new, like the world has been washed clean by the snow.
For the first time since yesterday's nightmare began, I feel like I can breathe properly.
No one is going to find me here. No one here knows me or cares. It’s freeing in the best of ways.
Maybe it's the fresh air. Maybe it's being away from the city and all its complications. Or maybe it's the way Darhg keeps positioning himself between me and the street, like he's shielding me from invisible threats with his massive body.
His massive, incredibly hot body.
I’m definitely not thinking about that kiss in the kitchen this morning. Nope. Not thinking about how his hands felt in my hair or the way he pressed my body against him like he could barely control himself. Like what he felt was dark and dangerous and utterly irresistible.
And I’m certainly not focusing on the thought of him making good on his threat to spank me.
Focus, Rona.
We’re just past a cute little flower shop called Monster Heart Florals when the bell over the door jingles.
Suddenly, an ogre woman bursts out of the shop like a cannonball.
She has white tusks protruding from her lower jaw, long black hair styled in war braids on one side of her head, high cheekbones, and a rounded face with dark-ocher skin.
She’s smiling so broadly it looks like her face might split in half.
I stand there with my mouth open as the burnt-orange eyes of the statuesque creature land solidly on my big, broody bodyguard. My eyes dart to Darhg, who freezes like a deer in headlights, the bakery bag still dangling from his pinkie.
"Darhg Rooke?"
Her voice carries like a church bell across the entire block.
She barrels toward us with the unstoppable force of an avalanche, arms spread wide for a hug that Darhg clearly sees coming and can't escape because his hands are full of my shopping bags.
The earth literally shakes as she crushes Darhg in the kind of embrace that bruises ribs.
I watch the exchange with a morbid kind of fascination.
"Inside voice," he rumbles, but there's no real irritation in it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Darhg looked… resigned, as strange as this might be.
"I can't believe it's you!" the ogre woman says at exactly the same volume. "How long has it been? Two years? Three?"
Another woman appears in the doorway behind her. She’s human, petite, with honey-brown hair and a sort of calm energy that suggests she's used to hurricane-level displays of affection. She smiles at the ogre woman with a patient expression and obvious adoration.
“Jennifer! Look who’s here!” the ogre bellows to the human woman.
On the other side of the street, a troll couple walking hand in hand shoots a nervous glance over their shoulder at the commotion, then walks away just a tad faster. The ogre woman doesn’t seem to notice. Or to care.
"Elga! You'll alert the entire street shouting like that," Jennifer says, tugging gently at the ogre woman's arm. "Now let him go before you crush the poor man to death."
But the ogre woman, Elga, is having none of it. She's already grabbing Darhg's elbow and half dragging him toward the shop entrance, much to my delight. Watching someone boss around my grumpy bodyguard is better than cable television.
"Well, come in, then," she continues as loudly as before. "It’s freezing out here!"
We're swept inside with a flurry of protest from Darhg, whose entire face has taken on a darker shade of yellow. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s blushing.
And it’s totally and utterly adorable.
Going inside Monster Heart Florals is like stepping into a greenhouse paradise.
The air is warm and humid, smelling of leaves and eucalyptus and rich earth.
Winter light filters through the windows, catching on glass vases and making everything glow.
White ranunculus bloom like tiny moons in metal buckets, and somewhere a humidifier puffs quietly, adding to the tropical atmosphere.
“Who’s your friend?” Elga asks, turning her attention to me once the door closes on the frigid January day. Her burnt-orange eyes give me a direct and open gaze that immediately sets me at ease.
I really like these people.
"This is Rona," Darhg says, gesturing toward me with one hand still burdened with my shopping bags. "She's a client."
My smile melts on my face at those words.
Really? Was I just a client this morning when your tongue was halfway down my throat? Thanks for that glowing introduction, Darhg.
“Well, nice to meet you, Rona.” The ogre’s smile is wide and direct. Honest. She gestures to the human woman, who stands right by her side. “I’m Elga and this is my wife, Jennifer.”
“Nice to meet you, Rona.” Jennifer gives me a genuine, warm smile that makes me immediately like her.
“Pleased to meet you both.”
I extend my hand to Elga, but she ignores it and immediately engulfs me in a hug that threatens to reduce me to dust. When she pulls back, she pauses, then leans in again. She sniffs at my hair, nostrils flaring, her eyebrows shooting up as she glances between Darhg and me.
I glance at Darhg, wondering if she can smell something on me. But he doesn’t look at me; instead, he’s now glaring at Elga. The blush deepens over his entire face as his skin takes on an alarming shade of dark yellow. Yeah, he’s blushing, alright.
Elga's grin spreads wider.
I turn to Jennifer and give her a much tamer, much more human hug. The woman returns the embrace with a bright smile still on her face.
“Are you friends of Darhg’s?” I ask, looking between Elga and Jennifer with fascination.
For some reason, I never imagined Darhg having childhood friends. It seems silly now that we’re here and these people obviously know him.
"I've known this big grump since forever," Elga announces, ignoring Darhg's increasingly thunderous expression. "Can you believe he was the most sensitive little boy you ever saw? Wouldn't hurt a fly, that one. Got picked on constantly by the bigger kids."
"Elga," Darhg warns.
My eyebrows shoot up. This, I need to hear.
"Really?"
"Oh yes," Elga continues cheerfully. "Remember in middle school when you found that baby robin that fell from its nest? You brought it to school in a shoebox and fed it between classes with an eyedropper."
"Shut up," Darhg mutters, but Elga just erupts into another laugh.
"He saved it, too.” Jennifer nods in confirmation. “Nobody thought it would survive, but Darhg was obsessed with it, and the baby bird pulled through. He was so gentle with it."
I look at Darhg, trying to picture a gangly early teenage version of him mothering a tiny bird with the same fierce protectiveness he now uses to keep people safe. The image lands somewhere tender between my ribs and I get that tingly feeling in the pit of my stomach as I visualize it.
"Of course he did," I say softly, and I mean it. This is exactly who he is. "And high school?" I ask, curious to know more about the boy who became this complicated man. “What was he like in high school?”
Elga's grin falters for just a blink before she swaps in what seems to be her professional cheer. "He moved to another town."
I frown, wondering if this is some part of Darhg’s life that he doesn’t want to talk about.
I’m rabidly curious, but I don’t dare interrupt.
Not long after, Elga, Jennifer, and Darhg start talking about people in town, exchanging news and opinions about people I don’t know.
It’s weirdly normal, hearing my bodyguard ask for updates about his childhood babysitter or his old neighbor, but it’s also cute and comforting.
Like peeling away some dark wrapping to expose the true person underneath.
I drift toward a side table where a glass apothecary jar catches my eye.
Rose Petal Bath Salt, the label reads, filled with delicate pink crystals and dried petals in a warm shade of muted pink.
I twist off the lid and inhale, a velvet rose, bright citrus, clean sea salt perfume rises to my nose. It's absolutely perfect.
"Oh, I love this," I groan before putting the salts back on the shelf.
When I glance up, I notice Darhg watching me with an unreadable expression.
“We've missed you, you know,” Elga tells Darhg and moves closer to the counter, her voice dropping to something softer but no less warm. "You should come back to town more often. You have nothing to be ashamed of. There's no reason to hide away like you do."
The words are gentle, but Darhg’s entire demeanor changes as she speaks them. I watch his entire posture transform, his expression closing off like shutters slamming shut. The easy warmth that had been building in the room evaporates.
"We should go," he says, his voice even and final. "I still have lots to do at the cabin."
Elga holds Darhg’s gaze for long moments before exhaling forcefully and shaking her head. It looks to me like she knew this would be Darhg’s reaction all along.
Darhg walks out without saying goodbye, leaving me to follow. As I turn to say my goodbyes, Elga appears at my elbow for one last hug.
"Has he fed you yet?" she asks quietly, her burnt-orange eyes twinkling with mischief.
I laugh, warmth rushing back despite Darhg's sudden mood change. What’s with ogres and the food obsession?
"He cooked a whole feast this morning. Pancakes from scratch, eggs, bacon, the works. I ate so much I nearly exploded."
“Good. Tell him to feed you with his own hands next time.” Elga's smile turns slyly sweet as she insists. She winks. “You'll thank me later.”
Before I can ask what that means, she turns to new clients who have just stepped into the shop, leaving me standing alone with more questions than answers. Not knowing what else to do, I hug Jennifer goodbye and step outside with Darhg who is already walking toward his parked SUV.
By the time I catch up to him on the sidewalk, his entire demeanor has shifted back to the serious, grumpy bodyguard I’ve always known.
I follow Darhg toward the SUV, Elga's parting words fizzing through my mind like champagne bubbles. The cold air makes my cheeks sting, but I'm warm inside my new coat. If he notices me getting in the car and sitting in the passenger seat next to him, he doesn’t show it.
I study his set jaw and rigid shoulders as he drives us back to the cabin. I notice the tendons in his neck and the way his knuckles grip the steering wheel tighter the entire time. And I keep thinking about a sensitive boy who saved baby birds. It’s hard to reconcile this with the ogre I know now.
Where did that boy go? What happened to you?
I think about Elga's suggestion to ask him to feed me with his own hands. My pulse kicks up at the thought.
Maybe I should test that theory.
"Darhg," I call softly as we reach the cabin and he parks his SUV.
He pauses with his hand on the driver's door, not quite looking at me.
"Thank you," I say. "For bringing me here. For taking good care of me."
Something flickers across his expression, some of the harshness falling away, and he blinks at me. It’s like he doesn’t even know what to say. He must not receive compliments very often.
"They love you," I tell him simply. "You must have been a good friend to them."
He opens his mouth like he wants to argue, then seems to think better of it. Instead, he just nods once and then gets out, walking toward the cabin in a few long strides. I picked up on something here. Something about the real Darhg.
The Darhg I want to know.
I wonder what would happen if I did what Elga suggested and asked Darhg to feed me with his own hands. A flutter of excitement fills my belly at the thought.
I'm definitely going to find out.