Evergreen (Widdershins #7) - E-Book

Cass:
I came to Widdershins to get away from home and party, not plant trees. After I accidentally set the campus greenhouse on fire, expulsion is on the table. Unless I work off every bit of the damage, dawn to dusk, until the semester ends. And the guy I have to answer to is Linden—seven-foot something, shoulders like a barn door, and the kind of smile that makes everyone's heart melt, including mine. He wakes seeds with a touch, knows every plant by name, and calls me "Sparks" even though I hate it. I try to be unimpressed. My magic… does not cooperate.

The more time we spend together—hauling charred debris, coaxing scorched beds back to life, rebuilding the whole ruined conservatory pane by pane—the calmer my storms get. A part of me wants to be with him, to give happiness a chance. But dryads are bound to their heartwood. Can I really commit to a guy who has to answer to the trees to keep his power?

Linden:
I like sunshine, water, and Cass Reed. I take care of the Grove, the bees, and anyone who wanders in looking tired. Cass pretends he doesn't need help and I pretend I don't notice his magic going haywire every time I'm near. I'm a simple guy. I lift heavy things, coax saplings to grow, and make Cass laugh at least once a day. I'd love nothing more than to sweep him up in my arms and run away, the two of us bonded forever.

But roots matter. If I'm away from the Heartwood too long, I fade. And now a development company has bought up my family's grove and means to raze it to the ground. I'm graduating with roots I can't dig up, and Cass still has two years left at Widdershins. Our paths seem to be diverging.

I have a forest that counts on me to survive. But my heart may never recover if I let Cass go.

Evergreen is a warm, grumpy/sunshine academy romance with greenhouse kisses, gentle humor, plant magic, and a happily-ever-after that refuses to be uprooted. Perfect for readers who love big hearts, soft strength, and love that grows where you least expect it, even in the face of upheaval.

Excerpt from Chapter Six: Cass
“Hey Sparks,” Linden said, looking up from his work as if he’d sensed my arrival. I hated that nickname. His gold eyes met mine, and I felt my stomach flutter. What the hell was that all about? “You made it back.”

“Yeah, well, expulsion sucks more than this probably will,” I replied, dropping my backpack by the entrance. “So here I am.”
He stood up, brushing ash from his jeans, and I couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles moved under his shirt. Fuck. He was ripped. The guy hadn’t even flexed or anything. Did working in a greenhouse build muscle like that? Was I going to look like that after this semester?
“How were your classes?” Linden asked, moving toward one of the larger debris piles.
“Fine,” I lied. I’d actually skipped most of them. The idea of sitting in a classroom while the rumors about me were still circulating and my hands were blistered all to hell hadn’t appealed to me. “So what’s the plan for tonight?”
“Same as this morning,” he said, handing me a pair of work gloves that looked new. “More debris clearing. We need to get to the eastern section where some of the rarer specimens were stored. But first, I need to show you something.”
I took the gloves, pulling them on over my sore palms. The padding inside felt like heaven against the forming blisters. “What?”
Linden led me deeper into the greenhouse, past the sections we’d already cleared this morning. The smell of ash and burnt plant matter was still thick in the air, but underneath it I could detect something else. Something green and alive. He stopped in front of a blackened planter, kneeling down beside it.
“Look,” he said, gesturing for me to join him.
I crouched down, peering into the charred soil. At first I didn’t see anything. Just more ash and destruction. But then Linden’s hands started glowing again, and the golden light illuminated something beneath the surface. A green shoot. Barely visible, barely alive, but definitely green.
“It survived,” he said softly, almost reverently. “The heartwood cutting I was working on. It survived the lightning and the cold.”
I stared at the tiny shoot, feeling irritation well up in my chest. This is what I was paying penance for? A tiny speck of green in a pot that nobody, except this muscle head, gave a shit about?
“Okay,” I grunted. “And? What’s so special about it?”
Linden’s expression shifted, and I watched as something flickered behind those gold eyes. Disappointment, maybe? Or just the realization that I was an absolute asshole who didn’t understand the significance of what he was showing me.
“It’s from my grove,” he said quietly, his voice taking on that patient, teacher-like tone that was starting to get on my nerves. “And against all odds, it managed to survive. That’s special in its own way.”
“It’s just a plant,” I scoffed. And, for some reason, that felt too harsh, so I followed it with, “So are we protecting this one then?”
“We’re protecting all of them,” he replied, still not giving into anger or resentment. I almost wanted him to. I wanted to see this gentle giant crack for some reason. “But yes, this one especially. I’ve been working on this cutting for three years. It came from a special tree in my grove back home. There’s... a lot of history there.”
Three years. I’d never spent three years on anything in my entire life. The longest I’d stuck with anything was probably my weather magic, and that was only because it came naturally to me. The idea of someone pouring that much time and effort into something as simple as a plant seemed almost… stupid.
“Okay,” I said, still feeling irritated about the entire situation. “Look dude, I’m not much of a plant person. I don’t really get it. So just tell me what I need to do so I can get the fuck out of here.”
“They are living and breathing creatures, just like you and me,” Linden offered. “What if they were a cat or a dog?”
“I wasn’t allowed to have pets, so I don’t get that either,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest. “And I’m nothing like a plant, thank you very much. I can walk, for one. And I can do magic. None of your fancy dandelions can do that.”
Linden looked at me long and hard. He still wasn’t angry, even though I was poking him every way I could think of. He just looked disappointed.
“I guess that explains why your magic is so out of control,” he said, cutting me to the quick in a single sentence.
I felt my jaw clench at that. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you don’t respect anything,” Linden said, and there was an edge to his voice now that hadn’t been there before. Not anger exactly, but something close to it. “Not the plants, not the greenhouse, not even yourself or your studies. Your magic is powerful, but it’s wild. Untamed. You call down lightning without thinking about the consequences because you don’t actually care about anything except how it makes you feel.”
I wanted to argue with him, wanted to tell him he didn’t know shit about me or my magic or my life. But the words stuck in my throat because some small part of me, the part I kept locked away and refused to examine too closely, knew he was right.
“Look,” Linden continued, his tone softening again. “I’m not trying to be cruel. But if you’re going to be working here for the next four months, you’re going to have to learn to think about more than just yourself. These plants deserve that much.”
I stood up abruptly, my hands clenching into fists inside the work gloves. “Fine. Whatever. Let’s just get to work.”
He didn’t push it, which somehow made it worse. He just nodded and led me toward the eastern section of the greenhouse, pointing out the areas that needed to be cleared first. We worked in silence for the next hour, the only sounds the scrape of our shovels and the occasional crack of debris shifting.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said. About my magic being out of control. About me not respecting anything. It was bullshit. It had to be. Except... except it wasn’t, was it? I’d burned down an entire greenhouse full of irreplaceable plants because I wanted to impress some drunk assholes at a party. I’d done it without thinking, without considering the consequences, without giving a single fuck about anything except how powerful I felt in that moment.
Just like Linden said.
And now I was going to pay for that one moment of thoughtlessness with four months of hard labor.