by Ellie Danes
“Oh, no way. You’re walking just like she did,” Tyson snapped.
“You know why she lied?” I asked.
My friend tipped his stubborn chin up in the air. “I do.”
“And you’re not going to tell me?”
Tyson shook his head. “And with the way you overreacted this morning, I wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t tell you either.”
I ground my teeth together. “Give me the truck keys at least.”
“Sure. They’re in the truck,” Tyson said.
I couldn’t tell if he was lying or not, so I had no choice but to start walking across the back lawn. The old pickup was parked next to greenhouse, and I had no choice but to revisit the place Cora and I had first made love.
I was lost for a moment in those memories when Cora herself rounded the old greenhouse and ran smack into me.
She stumbled back and pressed both hands to her blazing cheeks. “Oh, Storm! I’m so sorry. I was just coming up to apologize.”
“And get your stuff?” I was still defensive.
“I’ll come back.”
I caught up to Cora in the orchard. “Wait! We need to talk about all this.”
Cora reluctantly turned back to me with tears in her eyes. “Can I just explain why I came up here in the first place?”
I wanted to hear what she had to say but seeing tears in Cora’s eyes pushed all rational thought out of my head. I pulled her into a rough hug against my chest. It felt so good to have her back in my arms.
“I don’t care, Cora. I’m sorry, too. I lied to you that very first night, but it doesn’t matter anymore.” When she looked up, I kissed her. “We started over once, remember?”
I kissed her again and then again. Finally, a bemused smile stole over her lips. She still muttered about the reason she crashed my party in the first place, but I didn’t care anymore. All I cared about was her body pressed against mine and our breath mingling between kisses.
Despite everything she’d done wrong, Cora still felt right. I had felt off-balance all morning and as soon as I saw her, it was as if the world had come back into focus finally. That was the real Cora, the one I kissed as if I didn’t need air anymore.
Cora responded with equally immediate passion. She was molded so closely against me that I easily levered us both to the springy grass of the orchard.
She wrapped herself around me, but then paused and pushed me back. “Wait. Please let me tell you why I lied.”
I dropped my hot head to the cool skin of her shoulder. I knew I should be ready to listen, but it was impossible to breathe steadily with her cradled underneath me. My blood pounded in my ears.
“You convinced Tyson and that’s good enough for me,” I told her.
We kissed again, hotter than before, but then the sound of a speeding car distracted us both. Instead of kissing Cora again, I let loose a string of obscenities.
“It’s my supposed ‘business partners,’” I told Cora.
She squirmed around in the grass and caught sight of the limousine careening up the formal front drive to the mansion. “Good,” she snarled. “I want to talk to them.”
I helped Cora to her feet and then plucked leaves out of her unruly blond hair. “Maybe you can let me take care of my own business until we know each other a little better?”
Cora’s dark blue eyes glittered. “They messed with you, they messed with Murtaugh, and no one messes with my hometown.”
I laughed. “Yeah, about that—”
I didn’t have a chance. Cora was shorter than me by almost a foot, but she was fast. By the time I realized she was veering off the path, she had burst through the wildflower border and onto the driveway. She caught Chip and Alex before they reached the mansion’s front steps.
“You only came back because you think this is a done deal?” she called out.
Chip’s smile was immediately smug. “We signed the papers last night. We’re just here to toast Storm’s bright future.”
“There’s the man!” Alex cheered. “Here’s to new ventures, right?”
“By ‘new ventures’ he must mean robbing people blind with total scams.” I strode up behind Cora, but she stopped me with one small hand.
Chip held up his hands. “Now, the jitters are to be expected. We get it. Let’s sit down and see if we can talk you out of some of those irrational fears.”
Cora stopped me from taking a swing and stepped forward herself. She looked both well-dressed, smarmy men up and down with a withering glance.
“See, they think they’re safe. They were going to come back and drink a little more of your expensive booze and enjoy their victory,” Cora said.
“Hey, if now’s not a good time, we just came to tell you we have a flight out of NYC tonight,” Alex said with a casual shrug.
“That’s not a good plan.” Cora pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number.
I was ready to leap past Cora and confront the con artists with my fists. They looked like that was the sort of scene that they liked: one final dramatic showdown before I realized there was no recourse. Chip and Alex both stood at my front steps like vultures.
“Papers are signed, honey. There’s no one you can call,” Chip said.
“Who are you calling?” I asked Cora.
She grinned and mentioned a name that made both Chip and Alex go pale. “He just happens to be a good friend of Susie Q’s. She’s got him on speed dial,” Cora explained to me.
We all heard the big-shot attorney’s booming voice say, “I’m here, Cora, and I’ve got a list of charges any judge would love to hear them answer for.”
The con artists spun around and headed for their car. I was certain that no matter whose connections we used, my money was gone, but I had the satisfaction of watching Cora make them run.
“I’m sorry about the money,” Cora said when the dust from their car had settled.
I held out my hand. “Hi, I’m Storm. You seem like someone I want to get to know better.”
Cora shook my hand. “Nice to meet you. Again.”
I pulled her a few steps closer and couldn’t help but smile. “Want to have dinner with me?”
“I just can’t see it. I’m trying, but imagining you as an accountant doesn’t really work for me,” Storm said.
I smiled and settled onto one of the tall stools next to his wide kitchen island. “Sort of like I’m having trouble with all of this.”
Storm had whipped out three separate copper-bottomed pots, a large bamboo cutting board, and a gleaming chef’s knife. As I waved a hand over all his cooking preparations, he dumped an armload of vegetables onto the island.
“What? Me cooking? I’m a great cook,” Storm said.
I caught an onion before it rolled onto the floor. “I was a great accountant.”
Storm waved for me to toss him the onion and caught it with one hand. “Though I guess the only person who can vouch for my cooking is Tyson, and he’s still mad that I booted you out in the first place.”
I watched as Storm cut the onion with expert motions, fast enough to avoid any tears. “I could send you my resume if that would help you believe I was a corporate accountant.”
Storm chuckled. “Not necessary. Watching you destroy those two cons was good enough for me. Is that your idea of vacation fun?”
I frowned and handed Storm a fresh zucchini. “I’ll tell everyone what a great cook you are if we can stop talking about my last job.”
Storm poured olive oil into one of the pans and cranked the heat. Then he stopped, hands full of chopped onions, and asked, “Last job? As in you quit?”
I took a deep breath then deflated. “I didn’t quit. I was fired. There was a colossal mistake and no matter how many other people were involved, it all came down to my carelessness.”
The onions sizzled in the olive oil as Storm leaned on the kitchen island across from me. “Maybe it’s all for the best. Maybe you knew you didn’t really want to be there.”
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��So I screwed everything up on purpose?” I jumped off the stool and paced up and down his kitchen. “That’s just what my mother’s going to say, and she’s going to be all smug.”
“She told you so?” Storm asked.
I groaned. “It’s more than that with Caroline. She’ll tell me the universe has always had some better plan for me.”
Storm went back to chopping with a smile on his face. “Would that be so bad? The universe having some ultimate plan for you?”
“The universe isn’t very good at paying bills on time,” I snapped.
“Or grabbing the pasta from the pantry. Think you can handle that?” Storm asked.
I laughed and pulled open the pantry door, surprising myself with how comfortable I was in Storm’s mansion. Despite the thousands and thousands of square feet, I already knew the layout intimately and was beginning to feel at home.
By the time I found the rotini, Storm had added more vegetables to the pan. It sizzled away as he whipped up a light sauce in the smallest pot. The simple meal filled the kitchen with heavenly scents and added to the feeling of comfort.
“I’m glad you were free for dinner.” Storm uncorked a very nice bottle of red wine and poured it into a crystal decanter.
It felt natural to lean against the kitchen island next to Storm. We lingered together over the first sips of wine. The pasta cooked quickly and soon he had it mixed with the sautéed vegetables and sauce in two steaming bowls.
“Does it need more pepper?” Storm held out a bite for me to try.
I tasted it, but when his finger gently wiped extra sauce from my lips, a new hunger took over. His mouth found mine and dinner was forgotten. The dark cherry notes of the wine mingled with our first kisses, and I reached up on my tiptoes to savor more.
Storm’s strong hands wrapped around my waist and hitched me up on to the kitchen island. I eased my knees apart, so we could press closer and he leaned in tight against my body. It wasn’t close enough. Between steamy kisses, we tugged at each other’s clothing, seeking to fit closer and closer together.
I slipped my legs up until my calves closed around the backs of Storm’s thighs. Breathing hard, he wrapped his arms tighter around my waist and pulled me to the edge of the kitchen island. Instead of cold marble, I felt the heat and strength of his hands. I grabbed hold of his shoulders and brought my body up to meet him.
Then I couldn’t tell if I was still propped on the kitchen island or held aloft in his arms. All I knew was that we came together so easily, slipping into the tight fit of ecstasy and moving together as one.
I squeezed with my thighs, the heat building between us, and heard Storm’s hand slap down on the marble. He held me hard against his pounding desire with one arm, the other holding us steady as we reached higher and higher.
My moans of pleasure turned into an uncontrollable cry as Storm pressed me back onto the kitchen island, his strength pulsing deep between our joined bodies. The cold marble against my bare skin made me clench, and it rang a shuddering sigh from Storm’s panting lips.
He chuckled and gathered me up off the cold marble. “The bed would have been more comfortable. Sorry.”
I shook my head and pressed a smiling kiss against Storm’s mouth. “I’m not complaining.”
He caught his breath and eased my feet back onto the kitchen floor. “At least we worked up an appetite?”
I laughed. The bowls of pasta were still steaming, and it felt sinfully wonderful to pull ourselves back together while trying the first bites. In fact, we both went back for seconds, giggling and feeding each other. We stayed in the kitchen for a second glass of wine and I’d never felt more satiated by any other meal.
“Dessert?” Storm whispered in my ear. “Upstairs?”
I pressed back against his body and shivered with delight as he kissed my neck. “Sounds delicious but it’s getting late.”
“Then stay over.” Storm spun me around in his arms.
His kiss encouraged a whispered, “Yes,” from my lips.
Despite everything that had happened, it felt so natural and easy to fall asleep in Storm’s bed. He wrapped his arms around me, and we both drifted off immediately. It didn’t strike me until the morning sunshine flooded into his master suite that we’d come full circle.
I woke with a start and found myself nakedly comfortable in his king-sized bed. Just like the first time, I was dazzled by Storm’s luxurious yet simple master suite. Each object he had was top-of-the-line but there wasn’t a single thing that didn’t serve a purpose. Including, I discovered, a leather-bound notebook.
Storm leaned over it and scribbled a few musical notes. He was out of bed and leaning against the far wall by the window. I listened as he hummed the tune again and then wrote the music in the large notebook.
“Working on your new song?” I asked.
Storm jolted and slammed the leather-bound notebook closed. “Just jotting it down so I can get it out of my head.”
He tossed the notebook onto his gleaming mahogany dresser and dove onto the bed next to me. I laughed but wouldn’t let him change the subject.
“That’s the same tune you’ve been humming since I met you,” I pointed out.
Storm tried to distract me by snuggling closer. “Got any plans for breakfast?”
I yanked the silky sheets up to my chin. “As a matter of fact, I do. I’ve got a photography job this morning.”
Storm rolled off the bed with an exaggerated groan. “Leave it up to Tyson to ruin my morning.”
“Just think of all the time you’ll have to work on that song,” I said.
He scowled as he started to get dressed. The intimacy of changing clothes right in front of me did not encourage him to say anything more about the music he was working on. Storm was still so secretive about his playing, and I wondered if it was always going to feel like a wall between us.
Storm softened when I climbed out of his bed, dragging the sheets around me like a toga. He caught me just outside his master bathroom and nuzzled my neck until I giggled.
“I know you’re busy and I have to head into town later, but I’ll see you again soon, right?” Storm asked.
“If you’re lucky,” I told him.
He helped me turn on his waterfall-like shower and then kissed me goodbye. By the time I was showered and wrapped in a towel, Storm was gone, and I was alone with a host of doubts. Then I saw the silver tray with a pot of hot coffee and a note that read: Will call you later.
I smiled as I took my first sip of coffee. Knowing that Storm wanted to see me again was a delicious thought, and I savored it until I saw the time.
Tyson didn’t say anything as I jogged barefoot down the hallway to join him in the music room. He had texted me, knowing full well I was inside the mansion, but he was too polite to pry. As the morning wore on, it was me who grew too curious to stay quiet.
“Did Storm have some kind of appointment today?” I tried to ask as casually as I could.
Tyson turned a priceless instrument according to my gestures and then waited while I snapped a dozen photographs. Then he shrugged. “He probably just headed down to the record shop to play a little.”
“Music?” I asked.
“Your friend Rick and Bobby are the closest thing Storm’s got to session musicians,” Tyson said.
I nodded; it made sense. Ricky had a small studio space in the basement of his record shop, and I realized that must have been where Storm was heading on the very first day I ran into him.
“Why is he so secretive about it?” I asked Tyson. “I mean, it’s not as if it’s weird for him of all people to want to play music.”
Tyson sighed and put away the collection items we had documented. “It’s not weird but it’s hard. Storm wants to be taken seriously as a musician but he’s finding out how hard it is to get discovered.”
I snorted. “Storm Morris was discovered the day he was born.”
“Not if he refuses to use his name. He makes Rick post their son
gs online under a pseudonym. They haven’t built a very big following, and it’s filling Storm full of doubts,” Tyson said.
I helped Tyson put away the collection items and showed him the best shots of the morning. We agreed on the photographs to edit and use. Then he gave me a ride to town in the old pickup truck. I thanked him and waved as he drove down Main Street.
Then I headed straight for Rick’s record shop.
I’d been through the door so many times before that it was easy to slip inside without ringing the bell. I headed straight for the narrow office door and found the door to the basement open. I sneaked down the creaky stairs and stopped when I heard the music.
Laughter punctuated the chorus and I heard Storm call out, “Let’s go again.”
I peeked around the basement door and listened as they played the new song from the top. It was catchy and well-crafted, and anyone could hear Storm’s real talent. Why was he keeping it a secret?
I shuffled closer and the last step let out a loud creak. So much for Storm’s secret.
“Cora, we know it’s you,” Storm called out in a gruff voice.
I was caught and could only hope Storm wouldn’t be angry. I had him on the brain and needed to know more. Storm ran through my thoughts constantly, just like his new song that was now firmly stuck in my head.
Rick jumped up from his drum set and met Cora at the door. I watched with a frown as he held out a hand to help her around boxes of unsorted records. She took his hand with an easy familiarity I hadn’t seen before.
Cora shot us all a sheepish grin. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just curious.”
“And what do you think?” Rick asked.
“It’s not finished,” I said more sharply than I had intended.
“Even so, it’s really good,” Cora said. “And catchy!”
“Hear that?” Rick asked me. “I told you this one’s got a good hook.”
I was too busy staring at their joined hands. It was a casual, polite gesture but something about it made my chest burn. I could still feel Cora’s hands on my face where she had caressed me before kissing me. The memory whipped the burning in my chest into a flame of jealousy.