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

by Kimberly Rose Johnson

  “He is. That’s another thing I wanted to talk with you about.” He noticed that Trey was still devouring food but listening intently to their conversation. He hadn’t planned to bring this up in front of the teen, but why not? He had nothing to lose. “The mentor program was given the go ahead on a trial basis.”

  “What’s that?” Trey asked. He stopped eating and looked directly at him.

  “Teens or even kids can sign up at the police station to have a mentor.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “For example, if I was your mentor we’d hang out together doing things you enjoy.”

  “Oh.”

  Anticipation filled him. “I was hoping I could be your mentor.”

  Trey’s head jerked. “Why? I don’t need a mentor.”

  “I thought it’d be fun, but if you’re not interested no one will force you to participate. The idea is to have a blast doing things together. I was thinking how close summer break is. You’ll be stuck at home alone while your mom is working, without the distraction of school. I happen to have Thursday and Friday off, so I’m free to hang out with my mentee. We could do whatever you’d like.”

  “Really?” Doubt filled the teen’s eyes.

  “Sure. Anything.”

  Trey’s face brightened. “I suppose we could give it a shot. Do you fish?”

  “I do. And I have a canoe.”

  Trey shrugged, but a grin tugged at his mouth. “It’s not like forever. You said it’s a trial?”

  Spencer nodded. “That’s right.”

  “I’d like to try fishing.”

  “Then that’s the first thing we’ll do when the season opens. In the meantime we could go canoeing.” Things were working out much better than he’d expected.

  “Any progress on the vandalism?” Sierra asked.

  He blew out a breath, long and slow. “Not yet. Honestly, we have a higher priority case, and since no one appears to be in any danger from this vandal . . . I’m sorry.” Hopefully things would slow down and they would have time to follow up on the leads. “If someone was in imminent danger it’d be different.”

  “I understand. You need to work on the most pressing things first. But that won’t stop me from doing my own investigating.”

  Trey’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “No way, Mom.”

  “Why not? Someone needs to stop this woman. All I have to do is figure out who she is.”

  Spencer admired her tenacity, but she could get hurt. “I have to agree with your son. You should leave this to the police.”

  She crossed her arms. “Police who are too busy to do anything about the vandalism. Don’t worry, I won’t put myself in a dangerous situation.”

  “The funny thing about that is, we often don’t recognize danger until it’s too late. So far nothing has happened, but if you provoke this person . . .” Spencer let his words sink in. Let her take what she wanted from them—he only hoped she wouldn’t put herself in harm’s way over a few pranks.

  “I’m a smart woman. I think I can handle it.” Determination shone in her eyes.

  He sighed. “Fine, but let me know what you’re up to. If I can, I want to be there with you.”

  “Me, too.” Trey’s brow furrowed. He wiped his mouth on a napkin. “May I be excused?”

  Sierra nodded.

  “Thanks for dinner, Spencer,” Trey said.

  “Sure.” Now to convince Sierra to wait for the police. No way did he want her getting hurt because he was too busy working another case.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sierra stood outside High Desert Interior Design in the Sunriver business loop. She’d never noticed the place before, but it had to be where Celia worked. She pushed inside and paused. The place reminded her of something, but she couldn’t quite place what.

  “Good morning, may I help you?” A woman she presumed was Celia approached her.

  “Not really. I was curious about your store, so I decided to check it out.”

  Celia smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Feel free to look around. I do a lot of antiquing, and the owner has sent many things from her travels abroad.”

  “Thank you.” Sierra walked around and noted the prices were marked up pretty high. She wouldn’t be purchasing anything here for her clients. She glanced toward the cash register where Celia watched her every move with anger-filled eyes.

  Irritation flowed through Sierra. What did she ever do to this woman? Maybe she should buy something regardless of the high prices—it would be worth it to get that look out of Celia’s eyes. She shivered.

  A flash of memory hit her—Celia had been in one of her design classes. She’d caught the attention of their instructor and had been the teacher’s pet. How could she have forgotten?

  Sierra fingered an antique wall sconce. It was designed for candles, but it wouldn’t take much work to wire it for a bulb. The price was surprisingly reasonable compared to many of the other items on display. She turned and caught her breath. The woman stood inches from her—talk about invading her space. “What are you doing?” She stepped aside allowing more room between them and crossed her arms. This was ridiculous.

  “Nothing. You like the sconce?”

  “It has promise.” She looked to the sconce then back at the woman. They say kindness is the better route to take and as difficult as it was to be nice to Celia, she would do her best. “I’ll take it.”

  “Great.” Celia took it to the register and wrapped it first in paper then bubble wrap. “This is a nice piece. I wondered why Mr. Belafonte chose you over me, considering I graduated top in our class and you lack experience for someone of your age.”

  She ignored the jab at her age—talk about ageism. “You remember me?”

  “Of course. You were the oldest in our class. It was hard not to notice you.”

  Okay, ignoring her rudeness was becoming more difficult.

  “As I was saying. I can see why you were chosen over me. You have excellent taste.”

  “And tact too. Something someone with your youth clearly lacks.” She handed over a twenty-dollar bill. She never should have come in here.

  Celia’s face hardened. “Touché.” She placed the sconce in a fancy paper shopping bag and gave it to Sierra. “Have a nice day.”

  “Thank you. I will.” She walked to the door then turned. “Out of curiosity, who owns this place?”

  “My godmother.”

  She chuckled. “As in your fairy godmother. Cute, but seriously. Who owns this place?”

  Celia raised a brow and crossed her arms. “Clarissa Drake. I believe you are staying in her house.”

  Dread whooshed over Sierra, and she stepped back. “Oh. I thought you were messing around and making a joke about your fairy godmother—I mean godmother, since you seem to like working here so much.” She offered a smile that was greeted by a hard stare. “Never mind.” She left the shop, wishing she’d never entered. Clearly Celia had issues, but why did she seem to dislike Sierra so much? Because she got the job and Celia hadn’t?

  Sierra spotted her Realtor, Patience, beside her car in the parking lot and waved. She ambled over to her. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

  “I just got here. Did you find a treasure?”

  “Perhaps. Time will tell.” She looked over her shoulder and saw Celia watching from the window. An uneasy feeling crept over her. Could Celia be behind the vandalism? She shoved the thought away. The girl wasn’t the nicest, but that didn’t make her a vandal.

  Sierra kicked off her shoes as she entered Mrs. Drake’s house. This place no longer felt like home, and the sooner they moved the better. “I’m here.” She strolled into the guest room—no Trey. Odd. “Trey!” She called out as she wandered through the house. No response.

  Panic bubbled as her pace picked up. She flung open one door after another in search of her son. Where was he? He knew better than to leave the house without telling her. She checked her phone—maybe she’d missed a text. “Where
are you?” She asked as she typed the message into her phone. She tapped her toe, waiting for a reply.

  Why wasn’t he responding? Her phone finally chimed.

  Canoeing.

  She let out her breath in a whoosh. “Next time let me know ahead of time. I freaked out when you weren’t here.” She had a habit of talking as she typed her texts. She ought to use the speech to text mode and save a little effort, but never thought about it until after the fact.

  He had to be with Spencer since they’d talked about canoeing over dinner last night—but shouldn’t he have at least told her what they were up to? Somehow the man had wiggled into their lives without her realizing it was happening. The odd thing was, she didn’t mind. Even if Trey neglected to communicate that he was out with Spencer. He was a good man, and if he could be a positive role model for her son, then all the better.

  At least Trey no longer brought up the desire to meet his dad—one less thing for her to worry about. Not that worrying did an ounce of good. No, all worry did was add stress lines to her face.

  A text chimed in from Trey. She read it. Spencer wanted to come over for dinner again. Her stomach fluttered quickly followed by unease. Her feelings for this man were moving like a speeding freight train. She wasn’t looking for a relationship, but yet everywhere she turned Spencer was there.

  Somehow she’d thought if any man was going to grab her heart, it would be John. He was gorgeous, rich, independent, a strong Christian, and they had similar interests, but there was no spark between them. He was a great friend—no more, no less. But Spencer made her feel something again. He was a rock—strong, intelligent, handsome, caring, and had a huge heart. The fact that he cared enough about her son to reach out to him put him in a category of his own.

  Could there ever be something between them, or was she only attracted to him because he’d been there for her and her son? Whatever the case, she didn’t have time to ponder it right now. She had dinner to prepare and a phone call to make. She called Bailey. “Hey, there.”

  “How’s the house hunt going?”

  “Great. I found a sweet little house on the south side near the village, and Spencer hooked us up with someone who will be out of town for a month. We can stay at his place while we wait for escrow to close.”

  “That’s fantastic news. So does that mean I can expect you back at work tomorrow?”

  Guilt washed over her. “Absolutely.” Other than trying to figure out who was out to get the Belafonte business interests, she’d given little to no thought about the new project they were starting on Monday, and it would be a lot of work even if the current owner approved all their original ideas.

  “I’m actually calling because I found that new interior design place today.”

  “Really?” Interest piqued Bailey’s voice. “And?”

  “It has a storefront with several nice pieces, but that’s not why I’m calling. The woman working there is none other than Celia.”

  “Do I know this woman?”

  “Yes. She’s the other person who interviewed for my job. We were talking about her at the party I hosted.”

  “That’s right. So what has you so excited about the place?”

  “The owner is Mrs. Drake.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “Nope. When she told me she had business interests in town I never imagined she was in competition with us. What I don’t get is why she hired us to do her place.”

  “That’s odd.” Her voice had turned reflective.

  “I don’t know why, but I sensed a weird vibe from Celia.”

  “Explain what you mean.”

  “She made it very clear she doesn’t like me for starters. Yet I’ve never done anything to her. We had some classes together, and she was the teacher’s pet. Not me. She seemed jealous of me getting this job, but at the same time, she stated she loved what she was doing. Apparently Mrs. Drake is her godmother.”

  “The plot thickens,” Bailey said. “This is all so strange. I’m glad you’re moving out of her place. She’s always made me feel uneasy, but now even more so.”

  “I can understand why.” Sierra prided herself on being a good judge of character, but she’d missed the mark with Mrs. Drake.

  “Any news from Spencer about the vandalism?”

  “Nothing other than we are a low priority.”

  Bailey sighed. “I was afraid of that.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m working on it, too. It frosts me that someone is targeting Belafonte Design and the construction branch of the business. This is an environmentally conscious company, and we treat people right. There’s no good reason to be targeting us.”

  “I agree. You don’t think Mrs. Drake could be behind this do you?”

  “She’s not a nice woman, but no. If Mrs. Drake was out to hurt our business, I’m sure she’d come up with a much more ingenious method. I mean really, vandalism. She could do far worse than that if she wanted to hurt us.”

  “Good point. The more I think about it, the more I feel like it’s a disgruntled former employee or bored kids.”

  “I suppose you’re right. Well, I should go. Spencer’s coming over for dinner, and I need to figure out what to serve.”

  “Are you seeing each other?” Bailey gasped. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “It’s fine. We’re not officially seeing each other. He’s doing a mentor thing and Trey is his mentee. I offered to make him dinner a while back, and he’s collecting.”

  “I see. So you’ll be at work tomorrow?”

  “I’ll be there. ’Bye.” She disconnected the call wondering at the tone in Bailey’s voice. What did she mean by I see? She’d almost sounded like she was skeptical of her relationship with Spencer, but she was too professional to call her on it. Whatever, there was too much to do to stand around thinking about what her boss thought about her personal life. She had a knock-your-socks-off dinner to prepare.

  Three hours later, Sierra had the table set for three, a roasted chicken resting on the cutting board, and a coconut curry soup with quinoa ready to dish up. The front door opened and the guys sauntered in.

  “Hey, Mom.” Trey stood in the entryway, his mouth pulled into a wide grin.

  She took in his contented look and the smile that lit Spencer’s eyes. “I take it you enjoyed yourselves.”

  “We did,” Trey said. He sniffed the air. “What’s for dinner? It smells good.””

  “Coconut curry soup and chicken.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “Hmm. That’s new.”

  Panic hit her. Why had she tried out a new recipe on a guest? She forced a smile. “Well, it sounded good when I spotted the recipe on Pinterest, so we’ll see. The two of you get to be my guinea pigs. Go wash up. Dinner’s ready.”

  “Lead the way,” Spencer said.

  She had to hand it to the man. Her son seemed happier than she’d seen him since Christmas morning, and Spencer looked pretty good himself. He wore the outdoorsman ensemble well. From his jeans to the flannel shirt, he appeared comfortable and content.

  When was the last time she’d truly felt content? She couldn’t remember.

  “I’m starved!” Trey said as he approached the table.

  She quickly dished up their soup, added the bowls to the table, then placed the platter with the chicken in the center.

  Spencer looked at the spread with appreciation in his eyes. “If this tastes half as good as it smells, you found a winner.”

  Warmth filled her. How did one man’s praise make her feel content from head to toe? She tucked the thought away and instead flashed a smile. “I hope so.”

  The meal went off without a hitch and the guys loved the new recipe. She’d set that one aside as a keeper. Trey excused himself and Sierra watched as her son wandered off to his room grinning. Maybe Trey really did need a man in his life to do the kind of things with him he’d missed out on doing with his dad. “It looks like you had quite a day. I haven
’t seen my son so content and happy in a long time. What happened?”

  “I’m not really sure.” Spencer shrugged. “But I’m not complaining. It’s such a relief to have him look at me with something other than hate or anger. You have a good son.”

  “Thanks. It’s not always been easy, but with the Lord’s help I’ve done my best.”

  He chuckled. “I’m going to have to get used to the way Christians talk.”

  “It’s more than talk—at least for me.”

  “I can see that.” He looked around the room and motioned toward the kitchen. “Would you like help with the dishes?”

  “Now there’s an offer I can’t refuse.” Spencer’s charm seemed to have not only worked on her son, but her as well, because right now she wanted to nullify her pledge to remain single.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Monday morning, John sat behind his desk in the Bend office, once again wishing to be anywhere other than there. Work at the hotel here in town began today, and it would be all hands on deck once the plan was approved—he only awaited word from Bailey.

  The door opened and Sarah walked in.

  A tingle zipped through him. He stood. “This is a surprise! What brings you by?”

  “You mentioned your boredom with office work, so since I was in Bend, I thought I’d stop in to say hi.”

  “I’m glad you did. Have a seat.” He motioned to the chair situated in front of his desk.

  “Thanks. But there’s another reason I stopped in. I got to thinking about your vandalism situation.”

  He raised a brow. “And?”

  “Well, here’s the thing. I had some friends who got into trouble with the law last summer. They seem to be in the know when it comes to illegal activities in this area. I could ask them if they’ve heard anything if you’d like me to.”

  He almost recoiled. How could such a kind woman have friends like that? Maybe dating Sarah wasn’t such a good idea after all. No, he was being judgmental. She had to have a good reason for staying friends with them.