Turbulent Intentions (10 page)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The two men stomped through the trimmed grass in their newly purchased black clothes, hoods over their heads, thinking they were being quiet, but their steps and voices could probably be heard two blocks away.

“Quiet down or we’re going to get busted,” Sherman whispered in anything but a quiet tone.

“I am being quiet. You’re the one making all the noise,” Joseph responded, excitement clear in his voice.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Sherman said with the tiniest hint of an apology in his words.

“If you’re going to be a proper meddler, then you have to do what has to be done,” Joseph told his friend as they stopped in front of the quaint cottage.

“Such a shame, though,” Sherman said, but his lips were turned up in anticipation.

“Do you have the wrench?”

“Of course I have the wrench, Joseph,” Sherman told him with a roll of his eyes.

“Where is Cooper off to this time?” Joseph asked as Sherman took out his key and opened the cottage door.

“I think Atlanta. All I know is he’s gone,” Sherman assured Joseph.

The two men stepped inside the quaint cabin and went over to the kitchen sink, then slowly sat in front of it after opening the cupboards.

“What do we do now?” Joseph asked as he looked at the pipe and then at Sherman.

“We just undo this bolt right here and turn on the water,” Sherman said with glee.

“Well, get on it before someone comes and busts us,” Joseph said as he rubbed his hands together. “And make it look like a faulty bolt.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Sherman grumbled before he slowly bent and began undoing the pipe. “Damn this old body. I used to be able to get up and down so fast.” He cursed as his knuckle hit the pipe and instantly bruised. “Got it!”

With triumph, the two men stood, helping each other up as they turned the faucet on, not too high, but enough to flood the floors.

When water began dribbling out of the cupboard, the men high-fived and then quickly made their exit from the cottage.

Safely back in their car, they needed to brag of their deed to someone, so they called their good buddy Martin who was having his own matchmaking delights in Montana. The man, of course, was jealous of their masterminding tactics.

“Tomorrow will be a good day,” Sherman told Joseph.

“I only wish we could be there to see Cooper and Stormy together,” Joseph pouted.

“Oh, we will, my friend . . . at the wedding,” Sherman said with a confident grin.

With a smile, they drove off. Anyone who might say they’d lost their touch in their old age certainly didn’t know the men well at all. They were in the primes of their lives as far as they were concerned.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

As promised, Amy arrived at Stormy’s apartment bright and early the next morning. Stormy’s spartan lifestyle offered little resistance to the big move.

Her low-income life had ingrained in her the ideals of simple living. She kept possessions to a minimum, not out of some obedience to a pious and minimalist lifestyle, but more out of the necessity of tight spaces. Not only that, but until she’d been ten, her parents had dragged her all around the world, so packing had to be kept to a minimum.

The largest and most difficult of Stormy’s items was her futon, which was used exclusively as a bed. In fact, this was Stormy’s only piece of furniture, aside from her milk crate nightstand.

“I hate this old thing. It’s not the most comfortable, and I’m more than ready to leave it behind,” Stormy said with a smile. “I’m moving into a cottage, so even if it isn’t furnished, which I forgot to ask Sherman about, I’m sure it has soft, plush carpet.”

“Smart thinking, but the rich people like their decorating, so you probably will have one of those Monarch Vispring beds with something like three thousand springs in it.”

“I’ve never heard of that,” Stormy said.

“Yeah, cause it’s priced at about fifty thousand bucks,” Amy told her.

“For fifty thousand bucks, the dang bed better massage me, bathe me, and tuck me in for a good night’s rest,” Stormy told her.

“No. That’s what the master of the house is for,” Amy said with a wink.

“I guarantee you there’s no way
that’s
gonna happen,” Stormy said emphatically.

Amy gave her a look that said she didn’t believe her, but at least she let the subject drop.

After the last of her items were loaded into Amy’s full car, the two women climbed inside and drove off, bound for Gig Harbor.

The drive was typical for Seattle, traffic was bumper to bumper, but they soon found themselves crossing the straits of Puget Sound on the Tacoma Narrows Bridge.
The point of no return
, Stormy thought to herself as she started running over the items she might have left behind. Her mind was eased knowing that she’d taken all that was important to her and anything left wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

The bridge ended with the entrance to the quaint neighboring town of Gig Harbor. This once bustling fishing and boat-building community now existed as more of a tourist attraction. People from all parts of the Northwest came to enjoy the small shops and attractive parks that adorned the area.

As she and Amy passed through the small streets, lined with various shops and seafood eateries, Stormy looked upon the busy marina, which was bustling with small sailing ships and some rather nice seagoing yachts.

The drive through town didn’t take long as Gig Harbor’s population of a little over seven thousand people was only spread over an area of about one hundred square miles.

“What was the address?” Amy asked as they rounded the corner onto Goodman Place.

Stormy didn’t respond as she rolled down the window, allowing the crisp sea breeze to blow in. Her eyes were hidden behind a black pair of cheap sunglasses, her brown hair flowing around her face as she inhaled deeply. Her focus and gaze were trained on the surroundings and all the houses lining the streets.

The homes ranged from older two-story Victorians to modern family dwellings, some even passing as mansions, all with immaculately landscaped yards and varying yard art, including some beautiful fountains.

She’d always imagined living in such a place, settling down, and establishing roots. A life of travel had been her parents’ dream, not hers, and she could picture herself in a community like this one, getting married and having children.

She could imagine herself strolling down the sidewalk with a toddler at her heels and a baby in a carriage in front of her. Not far behind them would be their puppy, a beautiful golden retriever.

With a jolt to her system, Stormy pulled herself from those thoughts. What was she thinking? She was in no way ready or wanting a family yet. She had to take care of herself first before she could even think about settling down and raising a family.

She didn’t even have a boyfriend, let alone any money in her bank account. It wouldn’t do her any good to have kids when she couldn’t afford to clothe, feed, or diaper them.

“The address!” Amy called as she waved her hand in front of Stormy’s face to break the enchanted spell that had her staring. “Hello?”

“Oh right, the address,” Stormy responded while she pulled out the piece of paper Sherman had given her. “7200 Goodman Place,” Stormy said. “Right over there.”

They pulled up to an ornate gate with a keypad next to it.

“Whoa! This guy lives alone?” Amy questioned as she pulled up to the gate. They could see the highest peak of the roof at the end of a tree-lined driveway. “It’s really . . . nice—nicer than I was expecting.”

Stormy opened the car door and stood in amazement at the sheer size of the property, and she wasn’t even inside the gate yet. She didn’t have a response to her friend, so she said nothing. She was very intimidated, to tell the truth.

“Do you have the code?” Amy asked.

“I, uh, I don’t know. I didn’t know there was a gate.” Stormy fumbled in her pocket for the piece of paper Sherman had given her. Quickly glancing at it, she found a six-digit code. “Try this.”

Amy put in the code and the gates quietly slid open. Both girls just stood there and stared for a while before jumping back in the car and silently making their way down the gorgeous stone driveway.

They pulled in front of the main home. The place was intimidating with its towers rising high into the air and the rockwork stretching endlessly on both sides.

“Where is the cottage?” Amy asked.

“I think we need to keep driving down the road. It curves next to the house,” Stormy told her.

This was a very bad idea. A very, very bad idea.

Before they went anywhere, Stormy’s phone rang. She looked down and saw it was Sherman calling. Maybe he was going to tell her this wasn’t going to work out after all. She wasn’t sure she’d be upset about that because whoever owned this place would surely know she was an outcast.

“Hello,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Stormy, darling. I hope I caught you before you arrived at the place,” Sherman said, his voice echoing a bit.

“I can’t hear you real well,” she told him, pushing the phone tighter against her ear.

“I’m driving with the windows down. One minute, darling.” He paused and closed them. “There, is that better?”

“Yes, much,” she said, her eyes still taking in the sight of the mansion before her.

“Good, good. Did I catch you in time?”

“We just pulled up,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. “Sherman, I’m not so sure about this . . .”

“About what, darling?”

“This is so much more than I was thinking. I . . . I can’t take care of this place,” she said.

“Oh, my nephew has plenty of people taking care of the place. What he needs is a nice girl like you to make sure they’re doing it right,” Sherman assured her.

Stormy really wanted to run away, but where would she run away to?

“I . . . uh . . . suppose I could stay,” she said, still unsure.

“Good. Good. That puts my heart at ease. The reason I’m calling, darling, is because there was a disaster in the guest cottage last night with the water pipes. The entire cottage flooded, ruining the floors. It’s going to take about a week for it all to get repaired,” he said.

“Oh.” Now where was she going to go?

“Don’t you fret. The key you have is to the main house anyway. The cottage keys are in the foyer. Just go on inside and you can take the first room you come to on the right at the top of the stairs. It’s all been settled.”

“Are you really sure about this, Sherman?” she asked.

“Positive. I’ll be out in a couple of days to see how you’re settling in. I have to run now. Enjoy your evening on the water.”

Before she could utter another word, the line went dead and he was gone.

“The cottage had a problem. It looks like I’m staying in the main house for a few days,” Stormy said to Amy.

“Lucky you!” the girl replied with a laugh. She was trying to make a joke, but Stormy could feel her friend’s jealousy. “Let’s go on in. I’m dying to see the place,” Amy finished as she handed Stormy the purse she’d left in the car, and then rushed toward the front door.

The path to the entrance from the driveway was made of sparsely placed flagstones, each stone placed on a clean-cut carpet of deep green grass. The beautifully landscaped yard was no less amazing than others they had seen while driving through the small town.

Stormy moved up the walkway, the sound of rippling water filling her ears as her eyes were drawn to a nearby water feature. The fountain was an eight-foot stone ring encircled with concrete fish. Each figure spouted a thin stream of water toward the center, creating a harmonious sound akin to a babbling brook.

She peered through the water’s surface, which was littered with broad lily leaves and purple flowers, and noticed a giant orange and black spotted fish darting in the shallows.

Amy walked over to see what had made her friend smile. There were two fish that kept circling Stormy’s fingertip as she encouraged them to come closer to her.

“Come on, Stormy, let’s go. I want to see the inside of this palace,” Amy said. “We can play with the fish later.”

“Fine, just so long as you know that you’re zero fun right now,” Stormy retorted as she grabbed her bag.

The duo made their way up the beautifully set rock stairs to the front porch, and up to the large double-door entrance. Stormy reached out with the key in her hand, but she stopped, thinking the homeowner might be there and prefer she wait for him to answer.

Here we go,
she thought as she pressed the illuminated doorbell button. The chimes sounded like church bells as she heard them echoing through the inside of the home. They waited for about a minute, and when there was no sound of movement, Stormy pressed the button once more, then knocked on the door. Stormy stood there feeling slightly awkward on the front porch.

“Don’t you have a key?” Amy questioned as she tapped on the door lock.

“Yes I do, but I feel kinda weird about using it,” Stormy responded. “Sherman said there were people who worked at the house, so maybe they’ll answer.”

“Well, I feel awkward standing here,” Amy said.

Stormy reluctantly placed the key in the lock when no one came after about five minutes. Amy grabbed Stormy’s hand and twisted, unlocking and opening the door.

“There, I saved you from thinking about it,” Amy joked as she gave her a pat on the back.

The door swung open and both ladies felt as if they were intruders as they stepped into the home’s large three-story foyer. Directly across from the entrance, a great hallway opened up into what looked like two bigger rooms.

The foyer displayed an elegant sweeping staircase that rose from the floor as if it had been carved from a single piece of wood.

Immediately to Stormy’s right was an ornate pair of French doors that were closed against a dimly lit office. Another hallway was beyond that, lined with a few mysterious doors, presumably bedrooms, bathrooms, or closets. To the left of the elegant entryway was the great room, its boundary marked by an enormous archway.

Polished hardwood floors with plush dark leather furniture formed a U shape around a beautiful fireplace on the far side of the room. On the crafted mantel stood a framed American flag, a model of a sailing ship, and the portrait of what appeared to be a World War II naval aviator.

As Stormy and Amy pressed forward, they noticed the great room transitioned to a dining room, comfortable yet formal. The dining room and kitchen shared a glass wall that was nothing more than large windows and French doors that opened up to a vast deck overlooking the harbor.

The home was impeccably decorated with aviation and nautical themes, old family photos, and various mementos. Even with all its elegance and charm, there was something undeniably masculine about the house. A bachelor pad—even if the bachelor in question was impeccably stylish, self-possessed, and fabulously wealthy . . .
This place certainly needs a woman’s touch. There aren’t any flowers or throw pillows. But still, I’m impressed
, Stormy thought as she continued exploring. This was a house a family could grow in and she had a distinct vision of it someday holding a picture perfect family—complete with children, golden retriever, and minivan in the driveway.

She moved through the foyer, looking at the pictures along the wall that led back to the kitchen and dining room. And that’s when she froze in her tracks. Amy was nowhere to be found, but it wouldn’t have mattered if she were in the room or not.

She recognized the man in the picture with three other handsome guys. Taking a step closer to the photo, she gazed at the image of Captain Cooper Armstrong and three other men that were so strikingly similar in appearance, she had to assume they were either brothers or cousins. Stormy continued scanning the photos of them participating in flying, fishing, sailing, and a multitude of other outdoor sports.

What kind of prank was destiny playing on her? She couldn’t be in the home of the man she had engaged in a one-night stand with, and then who had completely forgotten her. Fate wouldn’t be that cruel.

Her heart thundered as she stared at the picture, maybe for a minute, maybe an hour. No, she wouldn’t believe that her luck could be so completely horrible. There had to be another explanation. He had to be friends with whoever owned the place. That was certainly it. Didn’t all the rich guys hang out together?

Yes, she convinced herself, he must just be a friend. Because who in the heck hung pictures of themselves all over their walls? Her heart slowed down as she smiled. Of course it wasn’t Green Eyes’ house.

“Okay, girl, I know it’s fun looking all over the place, but I found your room and I’m halfway unloaded already,” Amy said, making Stormy jump. “So get your butt moving, and help me finish. I have a hair appointment I refuse to miss.”