Crazy in Love (Blue Lake #3)(4)

As a smile turned her lips upward, she turned back to the grill and started flipping. Oh, she felt the attraction, too. Only she didn’t want to let him know it.

“How was the drive up?” she said, her voice tight.

“Sucked hard.”

He slid into the chair near the window and peered out. The glass was fogged, but the condensation raining down allowed him to see the cobblestone street and wood-planked sidewalks. Three iron posts stuck out of the gutter…in case he wanted to tie up his horse. Looked like the town hadn’t changed much since the early 1800’s. “Our SUV blew a tire. No one knew how to fix it. Know what it’s like to slide on your back through the mud on the side of a busy highway?”

She tossed a fat steak on the plate next to the grill. “You changed the tire?”

“Don’t believe me?”

“You don’t strike me as the tire-changing type.” She set the plate in front of him. “But what do I know?”

“I suppose I should be thankful the flat wasn’t on the tour bus. We’d probably still be stuck out there.”

He dug in immediately. The meat was juicy and tender, seasoned perfectly. And the eggs—she hadn’t asked how he liked them, but they were scrambled with cheese and peppers. The food was hearty, warming him from the inside out. He’d been on a chicken, fish and vegetable diet for the last three months; maybe that’s why the food tasted like sin on a plate.

“Delicious,” he mumbled between bites.

“Thanks,” she grinned, and her entire face lit up. “Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got Pepsi, water, beer.”

“Beer would be great.”

She popped the top and slid it over, and then made a second plate. “Anything else I can get you?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Okay, then. Enjoy.”

As she strode past him into the dining room, Cole continued to shove his face…until he realized she wasn’t coming back. He took his plate and beer and walked into the dining room.

Empty.

He found her in the living room sitting in one of the chairs in front of the fire, her plate in her lap.

“What are you doing?” he said, sitting in the chair across from her.

“I don’t know what they call it in Hollywood…” She took a dainty bite without looking at him. “…but around these parts, we call it eating.”

“I asked you to sit with me in the kitchen.”

“No you didn’t.”

“I did, I said…” He replayed the words in his head. He’d said he didn’t want to eat alone, that the table would be fine. Damn it. “…mind if I sit out here with you?”

She shook her head, keeping those light brown eyes focused on her plate.

“Who else works here?” he asked, as the fire crackled with warmth.

“Just me.”

“You run this place by yourself?”

“Don’t believe me?” she mocked.

“Touché.” He clinked his beer against the side of her plate and then took a long swig. “How long have you lived in Blue Lake?”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “My entire life. I was raised not far from here. My parents owned the inn before me, and my grandparents before them.”

“Family business. Nice.” He finished off his plate and then set it on the table next to him. “Nobody in my family could sing. At least not that I knew of, but it’s too late to ask anyone about it now.”