Turbulent Intentions (Billionaire Aviators #1) - Melody Anne Page 0,36

going to be homeless in less than forty-eight hours if she didn’t accept this.

“All right, I’ll take the place, but only if I’m not going to be a burden, and if your nephew lets me know, with a proper amount of time to move, if our arrangement isn’t working for him,” she said.

“It’s a big piece of land. I really don’t see any problems occurring, but if it makes you feel better, we can write something up,” Sherman said with a smile, handing her a piece of paper with the address on it. “Here’s the key.”

“You were pretty sure I was going to do this then,” she said as she laughed, holding the address and the key for a moment before putting them in her pocket.

She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. This man was her guardian angel.

“Do you need help with moving?” Sherman asked, kind enough not to comment about how quickly she had caved.

“No. I already spoke to my coworker, and she has an old, roomy Volvo to help me. There really isn’t all that much to move,” she told him.

“That’s good, but promise to call me if you need help,” he insisted.

“I will, Sherman,” she said, suddenly choking up. “You have to promise me we aren’t going to lose touch because I’m going to really miss you,” Stormy said before standing up and then reaching out and giving him a warm embrace.

“Well, my dear, I’ll miss you, too, but this change will be good for you. Just be sure and take care of yourself,” he said, sounding slightly choked up himself. That had to be her imagination though. “And yes, we will see each other often. Someone has to make sure my nephews behave so I come out there weekly. Now, you have a big day ahead of you tomorrow, and my old bones need some rest.”

He looked down and glanced at his watch before his eyes widened. “My golly, it’s going to be nearly midnight by the time I get home. I should get going, and so should you, lest you turn into a pumpkin. Or maybe it’s the motor coach that turns into the pumpkin. In either case, Cinderella, this old dog needs to get going.” Sherman patted Stormy on the back; her arms were still wrapped around him like a child who wouldn’t let go.

“Thank you again. Good night, Sherman.” With that, the two squeezed each other one last time and then Stormy rushed off toward home while he watched her safely cross the street.

There was now an extra spring in her step as she looked forward to her upcoming move. She was going to have trouble getting to sleep, even though she was exhausted down to her very bones. But she was moving to a real house, and things were now most certainly looking up.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The two men stomped through the trimmed grass in their newly purchased black clothes, hoods over their heads, thinking they were being quiet, but their steps and voices could probably be heard two blocks away.

“Quiet down or we’re going to get busted,” Sherman whispered in anything but a quiet tone.

“I am being quiet. You’re the one making all the noise,” Joseph responded, excitement clear in his voice.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Sherman said with the tiniest hint of an apology in his words.

“If you’re going to be a proper meddler, then you have to do what has to be done,” Joseph told his friend as they stopped in front of the quaint cottage.

“Such a shame, though,” Sherman said, but his lips were turned up in anticipation.

“Do you have the wrench?”

“Of course I have the wrench, Joseph,” Sherman told him with a roll of his eyes.

“Where is Cooper off to this time?” Joseph asked as Sherman took out his key and opened the cottage door.

“I think Atlanta. All I know is he’s gone,” Sherman assured Joseph.

The two men stepped inside the quaint cabin and went over to the kitchen sink, then slowly sat in front of it after opening the cupboards.

“What do we do now?” Joseph asked as he looked at the pipe and then at Sherman.

“We just undo this bolt right here and turn on the water,” Sherman said with glee.

“Well, get on it before someone comes and busts us,” Joseph said as he rubbed his hands together. “And make it look like a faulty bolt.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Sherman grumbled before he slowly bent and began undoing the pipe. “Damn this old