Designing Love: An Inspirational Romance (Sunriver Dreams Book 3)

by Kimberly Rose Johnson

  DESIGNING LOVE

  Sunriver Dreams Book Three

  By Kimberly Rose Johnson

  Designing Love

  Published by Mountain Brook Ink

  White Salmon, WA U.S.A.

  All rights reserved. Except for brief excerpts for review purposes, no part of this book may be reproduced or used in any form without written permission from the publisher.

  The website addresses recommended throughout this book are offered as a resource. These websites are not intended in any way to be or imply an endorsement on the part of Mountain Brook Ink, nor do we vouch for their content.

  This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible. Public domain.

  © 2017 Kimberly R. Johnson

  The Team: Miralee Ferrell, Nikki Wright, Cindy Jackson

  Cover Design: Indie Cover Design, Lynnette Bonner Designer

  Mountain Brook Ink is an inspirational publisher offering fiction you can believe in.

  Printed in the United States of America

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  A Note from the Author

  Books by Kimberly Rose Johnson

  To my dad. Thanks for showing such an interest in my writing and suggesting I use bible prophecy in this story.

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank everyone who had a hand in preparing this book for publication. Each and every one of you are invaluable, and I appreciate what you do. Thank you!

  Chapter One

  Sierra Robbins sat in her SUV outside a stone-faced mansion in Sunriver. This was the last place she ever expected to live. But the timing couldn’t be more perfect.

  “Whoa! You’re housesitting here?” her fifteen-year-old son asked.

  She looked over at Trey and grinned. “Yes, and I expect you to treat this place like a museum. Don’t touch anything.”

  He laughed. “Not likely, but I get it. I’ll be careful not to break anything.” He opened his door and stepped out. “What’re you waiting for? Don’t you want to see inside?”

  “I’ve been inside. Remember? Mrs. Drake was a client.” Unease gripped her. Not for the first time anxiety settled on her as she grabbed her purse. Did she make a mistake agreeing to housesit? She took in the enormous house and pushed away her nervousness. There was no way living rent-free for a year could be a bad thing. They’d be living in luxury. Her son did online high school, so she didn’t even need to worry about transporting him to and from Bend for school since Sunriver didn’t have a public high school.

  A man wearing a red flannel jacket walked around from the side of the house and waved. “You must be the Robbins’.” He approached them and offered his hand. “Mrs. Drake said you’d be moving in today.”

  Sierra eyed the middle-aged looking man with a medium build and salt-and-pepper hair. “Yes. I’m sorry, but she didn’t mention you.”

  He chuckled. “I suppose she wouldn’t. I’m Carl.” He pulled off a work glove and offered his hand. “I supply wood for the fireplace. These spring evenings and mornings can get pretty cold, so if you need to start a fire you’ll find a good supply of wood in the garage.”

  Relief washed over her. “How thoughtful of Mrs. Drake. Thank you.”

  “Sure thing. If you need anything while you’re here give me a call. I left my number taped to the door in the garage.” Carl nodded to her son then wandered back in the direction he’d come from.

  Odd. Why was he going across the landscape? He wove past junipers and a small boulder. Maybe he’d parked his truck on that side of the property, but still kind of peculiar. She shook off the strange encounter as she pulled a key from her purse and marched up the wide concrete stairs leading to the front door. Trey took the stairs two at a time and stood waiting at the top for her. She tossed him the keys. “Remember don’t touch anything! The art alone in this house could fund your college education.”

  Sierra stood in the grand entrance that opened onto a great room with a connected kitchen and dining room to the left and a hall to the bedrooms on the right of the great room. The cool color scheme wasn’t her favorite, but the home could easily grace the cover of a magazine. The heels of her boots clicked across the hardwood flooring as she made her way to the far wall of windows that faced Mount Bachelor. She opened the drapes and caught her breath. Although the ponderosa pines obscured the view, it really was breathtaking. It would be difficult to leave this house next spring.

  “This place is amazing. Can I pick any room?” he asked as he wandered from one room into another.

  “No. Mrs. Drake specifically said you should stay in the first floor guestroom off the entrance.”

  He popped his head around a corner. “Oh. Okay. I’ll get our bags.” Trey breezed outside, and a moment later shouts filled the air.

  She ran to the door and froze. A police officer had his gun drawn on Trey who lay face down on the paved driveway. “What are you doing?” she shouted trying to keep her voice calm, but clearly failing.

  He jerked his head toward her. “You’re trespassing.”

  “No, we’re not. I’m Sierra Robbins. Mrs. Drake told the security company that my son and I would be living here for the next twelve months.”

  He spoke into the radio on his shoulder, still keeping an eye on her with his gun leveled at her son.

  Time ticked slowly as she waited for him to confirm her story. “You don’t need to point that thing at him. He’s not going to hurt you.” She heard a muddled voice coming from his radio.

  “Sorry about that, ma’am.” He lowered his weapon and holstered it. “You can get up now.”

  Trey stood. His face had turned ash white, and he visibly shook as he glared at the cop.

  Sierra rushed down the stairs on wobbly legs to her son’s side, swallowing back overwhelming emotion. She took a deep breath then let it out slowly as she placed a hand on Trey’s shoulder. She’d love to wrap him in her arms, but he stood over a foot taller than she did and didn’t like public displays of affection.

  “I’m Officer Spencer Preston.” He offered his hand.

  She took it, though begrudgingly. “This is my son, Trey.” Where did he get off pointing a gun at her son one minute, then shaking her hand the next? But she didn’t want trouble, so she kept her thoughts to herself.

  “You triggered the silent alarm.”

  Sierra’s heart skittered. “That’s right. I forgot. Mrs. Drake told me I would need to disarm it. I’m so sorry, officer.” She offered the stocky blond man a tentative smile, wishing he’d leave. “I have the owner’s phone number memorized. If you call her, she will clear this whole matter up.”

  “No need. Eve
rything is fine now.”

  “Good. You sure got here fast.”

  “I was nearby when the call came in. Are you and your son new to Sunriver?”

  “In a way. I work for a local interior design company, but before this we lived in Bend.”

  He nodded. “Welcome to the neighborhood. Most of the homes on this street are rentals.” He pointed to one three doors down and across the street. “Your closest full-time neighbor lives there. A retired couple.”

  “You seem to be well acquainted with this area.”

  He raised his chin. “I try to make sure I know as many of the locals as possible.”

  “Does this mean you come around a lot?” her son asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

  She couldn’t blame him, but she didn’t allow sass. “Trey.” The warning was all it took.

  “Sorry. Excuse me.” He marched past them and opened the back of the SUV.

  Officer Preston frowned. “I suppose I made a bad first impression on him. I’m sorry about that.”

  “It was an honest mistake and my own fault. I should have remembered to turn off the alarm. I guess Carl must have reset it when he left. Strange too since he knew I was here.”

  “Carl?” The officer asked.

  “Yes. The man who was here when we arrived. Apparently he delivers firewood.”

  Spencer frowned. “Maybe he triggered the alarm.”

  She shook her head. “No. He knew who I was and that Mrs. Drake was expecting me.”

  “I see.” He looked around as if looking for something or someone. “Will your husband be joining you, too?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just like to know who is supposed to be here and who isn’t.” He raised a brow.

  Irritation surged through her. This dude was seriously getting on her nerves. He didn’t need to know her personal business. “No one else will be joining us. Please excuse me.” She walked over to her SUV and stacked one box onto another before hoisting them into her arms. She strutted by the cop who stood there for a moment before going to the police SUV and driving off. Whew!

  Spencer Preston stood at the water cooler in the bullpen at the police station unable to get the pretty blonde who hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring off his mind.

  “Hey, Spencer. How’d it go today?” Mark, his buddy and fellow officer, asked.

  “Fine.”

  Mark crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “You are too easy to read. What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  Mark motioned for him to follow him into the conference room. “What’s going on?”

  Spencer ran a hand along the back of his neck. “I responded to a silent alarm call today. It turned out to be the house sitter who forgot there was an alarm.”

  “And?”

  Mark knew him too well. “And nothing.” He didn’t do anything wrong, but he couldn’t shake that what happened today would be life altering.

  “Nope.” Mark shook his head. “I’m not buying what you’re selling. Tell me.”

  “The woman intrigued me.”

  “How so? Is she someone we need to keep an eye on?”

  “No. Nothing like that. I mean she snagged my interest.” Except for one problem—her son. There was no way the teen would ever let go of what happened.

  His buddy grinned. “Caught your eye, huh? I was beginning to think you were destined to remain single forever.”

  Spencer playfully slugged him in the gut. “Watch it. You’ve been here all of ten months. You don’t know everything about me.” Nor would he. There were some things he didn’t talk about. Even with a good friend like Mark.

  “Good point. Sorry. Catch you later.” Mark sauntered to his desk and sat facing his computer.

  Spencer was glad Mark didn’t know his past. He would likely only judge him. He’d judged himself enough and didn’t need any help knowing what a fool he’d been. He waved to whoever might be paying attention as he left for the evening. It’d been a long day, and he was ready for the peace and quiet of his little house, situated on the south side of Sunriver. It wasn’t grand or glamorous, but it was affordable and close to work.

  An image of the woman from the silent-alarm house flashed in his mind as he climbed into his pickup. Her fear-filled eyes heaped a load of guilt on him. He hated that he’d frightened Ms. Robbins and her son. She didn’t look old enough to have a teenager. But he was smart enough to know people didn’t always look their age, and some women had kids when they were young. Which one was she?

  A sudden idea hit him, and with renewed energy he headed to the Sunriver Village. He found exactly what he was looking for at the grocery store and purchased it. Who didn’t love chocolate cake?

  A short time later, he pulled into the driveway of the house he’d been called to this afternoon, grabbed the cake, and got out. “Here goes nothing.” The street looked as quiet as he’d expected. It wouldn’t get busy until the weekend when tourists flocked to the resort community in droves to play in this Central Oregon playground.

  He marched up the steps and rang the doorbell that gonged and seemed to echo. A moment later Sierra pulled the door open. “Officer Preston?”

  He held out the chocolate cake. “I brought a peace offering. I felt bad about earlier, even if I was doing my job. That’s no way to be welcomed to the neighborhood.”

  She hesitantly took the cake. “Thank you.”

  “Who is it, Mom?” Her son came up behind her and scowled when he spotted Spencer.

  “Just your local police officer bringing a welcome-to-the-neighborhood cake.” Spencer quirked a grin. Talk about corny. This had been a bad idea—one of his worst.

  The kid frowned. Not the response he was hoping for.

  Sierra stepped aside. “Trey, what do you say to Officer Preston?”

  “Call me Spencer.”

  Trey’s eyes narrowed. “Thanks, Spencer. For the record, my mom doesn’t date.”

  “Trey!” Sierra’s face reddened.

  The teen shrugged. “What? You don’t. And we both know he’s only here because he either feels like a jerk for pulling a gun on me or he’s interested in you.”

  “That’s enough.”

  Apparently Trey had a little sense in his head, considering he took the cake and darted away.

  “I apologize for my son. I’m afraid what happened this afternoon has had a lasting effect. He might need a few days . . . or months to get over it.”

  “I’m really sorry to hear that. I had no way of knowing you and your son weren’t burglarizing the place. I wouldn’t have been doing my job if I hadn’t stopped him.”

  “Good point.”

  Spencer nodded.

  A car pulled up behind his, and Bailey Calderwood got out. “Hey there, Spencer. What’s going on? I didn’t realize you knew Sierra.” She strode up the stairs and stopped beside him.

  He gave her the shortened version of what had happened and why he was there.

  She shot a worried look at Sierra. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. What brings you by?”

  “I wanted to see how your move went and if you needed anything.”

  “For the most part everything went well. That was really nice of you to stop in to check on us.”

  “I also brought you this.” Bailey opened her purse and pulled out a paint wheel. “I’ve marked the colors I need you to order.” She then removed two squares of fabric. “The homeowner decided to go with custom drapes and sheers. I’ll leave that in your capable hands.”

  Spencer stood there silently taking in the women’s conversation. Bailey was a friend of a friend. She managed the design side of Belafonte Construction and Design, a local interior decorating company that worked alongside the other branch of the company—new home construction and remodeling. So Sierra must be the assistant he’d heard so much about. He should’ve put that together this afternoon when she said she worked for an interior design company.

 
; “Do you want a slice, Spencer?” Sierra asked.

  Both women stood there looking at him like he was a miscreant child.

  “Why are you looking at me like I stole cookies from the cookie jar? What’d I miss?”

  They both grinned and said in unison, “Nothing.”

  He took a step back. “O-kay. I’ll be headed home then. Have a good evening, and I hope you enjoy the cake.”

  “We will,” Bailey called after him as he retreated to his pickup.

  He raised a hand and quickly got inside his pickup. He knew better than to daydream in the presence of two women. Too bad Bailey had stopped by. He’d really hoped to clear the air between himself, Sierra, and Trey.

  He’d have to find another way to make this afternoon up to them. But how?

  Chapter Two

  Sierra sat across the dining room table from her boss with Trey between them.

  Trey shoveled the cake into his mouth.

  “Take it easy. I don’t want you to choke.” Sierra stood and filled a glass with water then placed it before her son.

  He swallowed then guzzled the water. “Thanks. That was good. What’s for dinner?”

  Bailey laughed. “You didn’t feed your son dinner before dessert?”

  “Well, I wasn’t expecting a cake delivery.” She nodded to Trey. “How about you call in a pizza, and I’ll go pick it up?”

  “Score! Pizza and cake. You’d think it was someone’s birthday.” Trey grinned for the first time since the incident with the police officer earlier.

  “After the day we’ve had, you deserve it. Officer Preston brought the cake by to make amends. I hope you’ll forgive him.”

  Trey frowned. “He doesn’t deserve it.”

  “It was an honest mistake, and I’m just as much to blame for not turning off the alarm.”

  “Whatever.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “I’ll be in my room.”