Page 6 of The Spotted Cottage By the Sea
She looked up from her book and saw that a man was looking at her. He was in the booth in front of her, and his light blue eyes were locked in.
Sheila blinked. He was handsome, strikingly so. He had wide shoulders under a soft-looking green flannel shirt, a salt-and-pepper beard, and a black baseball cap pulled low over his face.
It was too absurd. She turned, looking over her shoulder to see whoever he was actually looking at, and when she turned back, he was standing at the edge of her booth.
“Hi,” he said. “Nice wolves.”
Four
The woman peered up at him, her brow furrowed, and her arms crossed over her chest. “I’m sorry?”
Russell motioned to the book now face-down on the table. “Were you readingThe Rise of Wolf 8?”
“Oh.” She picked it up and faced the cover toward him. It did indeed have a wolf on the cover, but the title wasThe 8 Wolves Inside You.
He reached forward. “May I?”
She nodded and slid the book toward him.
He took a seat across from her in the booth and turned the book in his hands. The subtitle wasEmbracing your instincts for transformation in midlife.
“Well, this is embarrassing,” he said, handing the book back to her. “I thought you were reading a different book – one by Rick McIntyre.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Is he a friend of yours?”
“I wish,” he said. “I mean, I’ve met him. He’s a really nice guy, but no. I’m just a hobbyist.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “Between the wolf on your book and the wolves on your shirt, I thought you were a fellow wolf enthusiast.”
She looked down at her shirt and laughed. “Oh! Okay, I can see how you might’ve thought that.”
The shirt looked out of place on her; it was what first caught his eye. Maybe she was wearing it ironically? She was pretty, with dark hair framing her delicate features – a small nose tucked between high cheekbones, and freckles dotting her skin. Her deep brown eyes were ever so slightly outlined with makeup.
He let out a dramatic sigh. “And now I’ve outed myself as a wolf nerd to a perfectly normal person.”
She uncrossed her arms. “Thank you for suggesting I’m normal.”
He laughed. “I just started tracking wolves recently. I’m not very good at it. I’ve also done some wolf watching in Yellowstone. That was where Wolf 8 lived.”
“Wolf 8,” she repeated slowly.
“Yeah. Him and his stepson, Wolf 21.”
A half smile formed on her lips. “I can’t tell if you’re messing with me.”
“About which part?”
“Wolves have stepkids?” she asked.
“Yeah! That’s what Rick discovered. He spent his career watching wolves. They’re remarkable.”
Her eyes lingered on his face. She tilted her head to the side. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
Oh boy. There it was. His disguise could only last so long. He needed to grow the beard bigger. Bushier, maybe dye it white like Santa Claus. “Don’t think so, no.”
She gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. “You’re Russell Westwood!”
He flashed a smile and stood from his seat. “Am I?”
“You are. Wait.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Aren’t you?”
