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He looks at me again. I don’t fill the silence. That’s something I’ve learned about quiet people. Everyone assumes silence needs rescuing. Sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes you can simply let it exist.
After several seconds, Hewit says, “Years.”
I didn’t expect an answer. “That’s strangely non-specific. Do you like it here?”
He pauses. “It’s quiet.”
I glance toward town. Somewhere in the distance, something explodes, and a flock of birds erupts from the trees.
Hewit doesn’t react.
I raise an eyebrow. “Quiet?”
His gaze flicks to mine, and the corner of his mouth eases for half a second before he catches himself. “Usually.”
I push away from the porch post. “I know you told me not to come over. I wasn’t trying to annoy you. I thought introducing myself properly seemed civilized.”
“You already introduced yourself.”
“On a sidewalk while you were trying to escape.”
His eyes narrow again. “I wasn’t escaping.”
I smile. “Anyway, message received. Your property will remain Nora-free.”
His brow furrows. Something about that apparently bothers him, which is intriguing.
I step down from the porch and make it as far as the bottom step before Hewit speaks behind me.
“Coffee’ll get cold.”
I turn to see him still standing in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame, eyeing the coffee cup on the railing as if he expects it to explode.
“Then you’d better drink it.”
His gaze lifts to mine. “Thought you said you were leaving.”
“I am.” I take another backward step toward my cottage. “You’re the one prolonging the goodbye.” I smile. “Enjoy your coffee, Hewit.”
He gives me a look that suggests enjoyment is not something he intends to admit to under any circumstances.
I turn and cross the grass. I’m halfway to my porch when I hear the soft scrape of cardboard against wood and glance back.
Hewit has the coffee in one hand, and the pastry bag is gone. He catches me looking, and his expression immediately hardens as if I’ve witnessed classified information.
He shuts the door, and I stand there for a second, grinning at the dark-painted wood like an idiot before heading inside.
Apparently, my neighbor does want coffee.
He just doesn’t want me knowing it.
Chapter 5
Hewit
I drink the coffee.
It’s not a significant event.
