Crazy in Love (Blue Lake #3)(32)

God, she wished he wouldn’t look at her that way. She got shaky all over, edgy and unsure. The food clumped down her throat, but it was too late. They’d already moved on to talking about something else.

“What do you say we dance?” Cole said, extending his hand to Lucy. “Seeing as how you and I aren’t eating.”

Rachael eyed their full and barely-touched plates. Sighing, she dropped her fork, wrinkled her napkin and pushed away from the table.

“Why’d you invite us to dinner if you aren’t going to eat?” Rachael asked.

“Because that’s what you do when you wine and dine a beautiful woman. You eat, and then you dance.” He stood. “What do you say, Ms. Stone.”

Smiling like she’d been pronounced Mrs. Turner, Lucy put her hand in his and let him swing her to the far end of the platform.

How would they dance without—

On cue, music flowed from the limo. It was slow and sultry. Etta James’s At Last. The limo driver had opened the doors and rolled down the windows. The radio must’ve been on full-blast.


Rachael tried not to stare as Cole held Lucy against him and spun her around, but she couldn’t help it. She tried to ignore the pinch in her side, and the distaste in her mouth, but the penne was cooked to perfection and her clothes were smooth on the inside. There was no logical reason for her to be experiencing either.

Hands in her lap, Rachael stared out over the vineyard toward the direction of the amphitheater. The wind picked up, bringing with it rumble of passing cars. People were already arriving at the winery to snag a seat.

“You’re up.” Lucy shook Rachael’s shoulder. “I’d love to hog him all night, but what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t give you a turn?”

Rachael caught Cole’s stoic expression over Lucy’s shoulder. His arms may’ve been relaxed at his sides, and his shoulders may’ve rounded forward slightly, but his jaw was clenched tight and a storm raged in his honey-brown eyes.

“It’s all right.” Rachael took a huge gulp of water and chomped on the ice. “I’m not much of a dancer.”

“One dance,” he said, extending his hand.

How could she say no?

As Kiss Me from Ed Sheeran resounded from the limo’s speakers, Rachael sighed, and then took Cole’s hand. It was cold and rough, though his hands had been soft last night…

He spun her around and hugged her against him. Keeping her back rigid, Rachael stared over the grapes. When did they prune? How many varieties were there? How many people had already arrived to see Cole’s show?

God, it wasn’t working. She couldn’t pull herself out of this moment no matter how hard she tried. His arms felt too good wrapped around her waist, his hand strong as it held hers.

“Did you get everything straightened out with Joey?” he asked, his feet moving in a slow rhythm.

Nope. “Of course.”

“I’m glad.” His tone was flat. Void of emotion. “He’d be perfect for you.”

“I know.”

It may’ve been the smarter decision—Joey was a sweetheart, he really was—but he wasn’t the one she wanted to sleep with last night. When pressed with the decision to choose between them, she’d made her choice, although it wasn’t the best one for her.

Why couldn’t she have it both ways? Why couldn’t Cole be a firefighter from Blue Lake? Why couldn’t he find a way to fit in here?

Who was she kidding?

Like Joey had said, Cole Turner was from a completely different world.