Turbulent Intentions(48)

“Good night,” Stormy finally replied, and then she continued walking up the stairs.

Sleep was going to be very difficult if she was able to get any at all.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Her breath coming in and out in pants, Stormy pushed herself harder and faster as she ran on the treadmill while watching the sun flash on the waves as they lapped against the shore. The view was perfect in Cooper’s state-of-the-art home gym.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked over at the cottage, where no one was working. How was it going to be repaired if the workmen weren’t there doing anything? She decided to ask Sherman about it as soon as possible.

A runner she wasn’t, but the energy zinging through her body had called for an outlet, so she’d been in the gym for the past hour, and though her muscles were screaming, her mind still wasn’t letting go of thoughts of Cooper and that kiss they’d shared two nights before.

Finally she couldn’t take it anymore, and she stopped the machine, her knees nearly buckling as she got off. Water! She needed water. Carefully she ascended the basement stairs and walked to the kitchen.

Before she reached the fridge, she noticed a note with her name on it. Her thirst temporarily forgotten, she slowly moved toward it and picked it up as if the paper would give her an electric shock or something.



I think you do have some things to tell me. I’ll be gone a few days, but I want you to know that I’m anticipating my return.

Cooper



Leaning against the counter, she read the note three times through. What did he mean that he was anticipating his return? What did he mean that she had things to tell him? Did he know? He couldn’t know. Her heart thudded harder than it had on the damn treadmill as she read the note yet another time.

Finally, she set it down and got her drink, then sat there at the counter with every worst-case scenario filtering through her brain.

She wanted to smack herself as the day progressed.

Just because she’d had a couple of spectacular kisses with Cooper, and he’d left her a note she was obsessing about, didn’t necessarily mean something.

What Stormy needed to do was focus on herself. After living in this perfect little sea town, and talking to Cooper about dreams she’d forgotten about, she was thinking that maybe she’d give her hopes a chance.

The worst that could happen was she would be terrible at it. But what if she was good? The necklace she’d lost so many years before she’d designed in high school, and her teacher had said she had a real eye for art, a true talent.

Instead of focusing on a man, shouldn’t she focus on herself? He was going to be gone for a few days. By the time he got back, maybe she would be more in control of herself.

So for the next two days, Stormy made sure she wiped away any thoughts of Cooper.



With the house all to herself, Stormy couldn’t help but smile. The cottage was taking forever, but soon she’d even have her own space. However, after living in Coop’s giant mansion, she wondered if she’d feel cramped in the cottage even though it wasn’t actually that small.

Of course, she was so used to the constricted confines of apartment living—the sounds of television sitcoms through thin walls, the anger of domestic disputes, and the young couple upstairs making their nightly session as obvious as possible—that the cottage would be paradise in comparison.

But here at Coop’s private property, all that could be heard was the sound of the fountain in the front yard, the splash of waves on the beach, the occasional toll of harbor buoys, the wind through the trees, and the periodic cry of gulls sailing above.

Cooper was halfway across the Pacific Ocean, she thought with a smile.

She needed to take advantage of the situation instead of holing herself away in her room when she wasn’t working.

Stormy wasn’t going to waste any opportunities, so she made the executive decision: sweet white wine and a skinny-dip in the hot tub. Soon she would forget all about the days of freezing in her apartment while huddled beneath her covers. Tonight she would feel like the rich and famous. She would even drink from crystal.

Smiling with selfish delight, she sprinted up the stairs to her room where she quickly slipped into a silk bathrobe, then closed her bedroom door behind her as she headed back downstairs.

She rummaged through the kitchen for a proper glass. “Now we’re in business,” she said aloud as she pulled a chilled bottle of wine from the cooler. She hoped he wasn’t saving the bottle for a special occasion. She couldn’t help but giggle guiltily as she dug through the drawer for the bottle opener.

“Ah, there you are,” she murmured, pulling it from the drawer and placing it on the cork.