Crazy in Love (Blue Lake #3)(15)

“Umm…” She glanced at her phone as it buzzed. It was Joey, confirming they were on for dinner and a movie. He wanted to meet at Angie’s at six thirty. “…I’m cooking something simple. Spaghetti and Caesar Salad. Is that all right?”

“If it’s edible, it’s perfect.” He flopped on the bed.

Lucy leaned around Rachael to peek in the room. She elbowed her friend, forcing her back.

“Dinner will be early tonight. Five o’clock. And I won’t be eating with you.”

He threw his hand over his forehead and turned to glance at her. “Why not?”

“I have a date.”

She started to close the door. He sat up, propping himself on his elbow as if he was posing for a GQ ad. “A date?”

“Don’t worry,” she said, her voice suddenly hoarse. “I’ll make sure everything is taken care of before I leave. I won’t leave a stone unturned. And if you need me, I’ll take my cell.”

As she closed the door further, he put up a hand to stop her.

“If I need you?” His voice was deep, a sexy husk. “What if I need you now?”

“Good God,” Lucy whispered from behind her. “My ovaries just moaned.”

Rachael gave her an elbow. “What do you need, Cole?”

He licked his lips, unhurried and ruthless. Her heart panged against her chest and wet heat pooled between her legs. Lucy whimpered over Rachael’s shoulder.

“I need my pillow back,” he said simply. “You must’ve taken it with the wash.”

Rachael nodded once. Twice. Three more times. It wasn’t until Lucy pulled her back by the sweater, did she realize she’d been in some kind of trance. She shut the door and ran down the hall with her best friend, giggling like a teenager.





Chapter Six





The fact that Rachael was going on a date with some backwoods mountain man—at least that was the image he’d drawn up in his head—didn’t bother him. Not at all. It was the fact that Rachael hardly responded to any of his advances…


Cole had made up his mind that she wasn’t interested in men for the time being or dating in general. She’d probably been burned before and was taking a dating hiatus.

He could’ve swallowed that truth and moved on.

But she was going on a date.

She was looking for someone.

How could she go out with someone else when he slept down the hall? He thought about asking her, but he’d sound desperate. Needy and shallow.

He wasn’t any of those things, so he kept his trap shut.

Rachael had dinner ready at five o’clock, like she said she would. His plate was on the counter, but his hostess was nowhere to be seen. He slurped spaghetti by his lonesome in the big, empty dining room and stared out over the back lawn.

He hadn’t had this type of quiet in years—the hustle and bustle of the business didn’t give him that luxury—so he fought the urge to surf the internet on his phone and stared out over the back lawn instead. The sun had set, casting slanting shadows across the grass. An unfinished building sat to the right of the inn, and Cole wondered if Rachael owned that lot, too. It was larger than the inn, from the looks of it, and had the same cream-colored paint job.

When the clock ticked over to six, Cole had enough of solitude: it reeked of loneliness. He rinsed his plate off in the sink and strode through the dining room, stopping in his tracks when he spotted Rachael putting on her lipstick in the entryway mirror.