Mrs. Morris and the Pot of Gold by Traci Wilton

Author:Traci Wilton [Wilton, Traci]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2022-06-23T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

When she arrived home, the Montgomerys had retired to their rooms and a note from Janice Shelton was placed on the kitchen counter.

Her guests were free to come and go, but this was sweet just the same. Sheffer might want to take notice.

Charlene, the rain has finally stopped so Dylan suggested we walk into town. Don’t know when we’ll be back, but don’t wait up! We had a fun night, thank you!

They were such a nice couple. Dylan was a pharmacist and Janice worked in a dance studio for younger children. They had an eleven-year-old daughter named Hailey staying with the grandparents, as the little girl was in school.

They really missed her and Charlene wouldn’t be surprised if they decided to leave early.

Charlene turned off a few lights, then entered the living room to collect glasses and check that the fire was banked.

She could see the shape of a head in Jack’s chair and rushed over to tell him about Avery. But when the man turned, she was looking at Sheffer instead. Her warm feelings curdled.

“Oh! I thought no one was up,” she said politely. “Did you enjoy your dinner?”

“I did.” He steepled his fingers together at his crossed knee.

“Where did you go? Salem has a surprisingly high number of quality restaurants to choose from. Being so close to Boston doesn’t hurt.”

“Turner’s Seafood.” He added drolly, “I had the rack of lamb.”

She chuckled, determined to find out more about this enigmatic man. “What? You’re not a lobster lover?”

“Depends. Tonight I was in the mood for a very rare rack of New Zealand lamb.”

“Do you mind if I pour us both a drink and chat awhile? This is one of my favorite parts of being a hostess.”

He didn’t say yes or no, just, “Scotch neat for me, please.”

Charlene selected a crystal tumbler for Sheffer and poured the amber scotch two inches. Her dark red had a similar oaky scent as she filled a glass of cabernet for herself.

He stayed in the chair by the fire, his hooded gaze watching her. She gave him his tumbler. He wore no rings of any kind.

She kept her voice light. “I’ve been here two years and never had dinner there. Lunch a few times, but . . .”

He lifted his glass and said, “Cheers.” She did the same, but they didn’t clink, just sipped.

“I’m sorry for getting off on the wrong foot earlier.”

He nodded.

“Tell me a little about yourself.” Charlene settled back on the sofa. “What kind of business are you in?”

“The none-of-your-business kind.” His mouth lifted in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry.”

She bit her lip. The man was beyond rude. Why stay at a bed-and-breakfast if you wanted a motel experience? And avoided your mother’s. “I didn’t mean to be nosy. Just making conversation. Most people like to talk about themselves.”

He chortled at that. “True observation. I’m not one of them.”

Hmm. How to draw him out? She could share a little about herself, she supposed, and hope to lower his guard.

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