“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.”
“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 songs 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.