Page 20 of The Spotted Cottage By the Sea
“Yes please.”
She darted off to the fridge, and he looked up to see Sheila still eyeing him.
Patty bumped her with her hip. “Sit down. I have one for you too.”
“I’m not hungry, and I need to catch the ferry anyway.”
“You have time for a cinnamon roll. Nowsit!”
Patty pointed and Sheila listened to her, sliding into a chair. “Where’s Derby?”
“He’s outside on his tie-out. He’s really started to enjoy looking at the ocean in his old age,” Patty said. “Starting to appreciate the finer things, I guess.”
Russell took his first bite of the still-warm cinnamon roll. As good as everything he’d gotten from the bakery looked, it couldn’t beat this. “This is delicious. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome!” Patty had her back turned, unloading the bakery box he’d brought onto a plate.
Sheila watched her with a half-smile on her face.
“Do you like the bakery in town?” he asked.
She turned sharply, as if she’d forgotten he was there. “Oh. Yes.”
She seemed to be somewhere else entirely. Sort of how she’d looked when he first saw her on the ferry. “I actually had something to ask you.”
Sheila poured herself a cup of tea. “Hm?”
“The card you gave me, it said you’re an accountant. Is that right?”
“Why?”
Being neighborly was much harder than he’d expected. “I was hoping to…I was actually looking for an accountant.”
She set her teacup down. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m not with that firm anymore.”
Patty appeared, this time with an empty teacup for herself. “Why not? You were just telling me you needed clients.”
She gave a non-committal shrug, her eyes darting to Russell, then back to her teacup.
“You don’t have to answer now,” Russell said. “I understand if you’re busy.”
“She’s not too busy. We’re neighbors!” Patty sat down, a grin on her face. “Right, Sheila? She’ll be coming to stay with me for a bit.”
“Yeah.” Sheila took a cinnamon roll and put it onto a plate. “I’ll be here so…I suppose I could take a look.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it,” he said, stuffing his mouth with another bite of the warm cinnamon bun.
As mysterious as Sheila was, there was also something familiar about her. It could be something in those deep brown eyes and how when she stared, lost in thought, her dark hair slowly falling in front of her face.
He had to resist the urge to tuck the hair behind her ear. It was startling that the thought even occurred to him. How bizarre would it be to reach out and touch someone who was not only a stranger, but one who didn’t like him particularly much?
She reminded him of someone who didn’t want to be followed, someone who didn’t want to be tracked. He would stay back. Watch from afar. He was good at that.
If he was quiet enough, perhaps she’d let down her guard and let him into that mind of hers.
Eleven
The kitchen was too warm. Sheila sank into her chair, clutching her teacup with both hands and stealing glances at Russell as he talked and joked with Patty.
