Crazy in Love (Blue Lake #3)(5)

She put down her fork and stared to say something, but stopped herself short.

“So what should I call you?” he asked, leaning back in the chair. “Mrs. McCoy?”

The corner of her lip turned into a smile. “Rachael is fine.”

She didn’t answer his question. Not really.

“Are you married, Rachael?”

“No.” She sawed off a large bite of meat.

“Surprising.”

She glared, chewing slowly.

“Ever been?”

“Not that I recall.” She pursed her lips. “You?”

A deep laugh bubbled out of him. “I’m about the farthest from married that I could get. But if I found the right woman, I wouldn’t be opposed to settling down. At some point I’m going to tire of living on the road, and wouldn’t mind having a wife and a few children to welcome me home.”

Wasn’t a total lie. He did want to settle down someday, just not anytime soon. He was in the middle of building a career, of becoming a legend. At least that’s what his manager and recording label kept telling him. As long as he kept singing the songs they wanted him to sing, he was rocking down the right road.


“Is that right?” she said, setting her plate at her feet. “I bet you could see yourself in a place like this. Snow falling outside the window. Feet kicked up in front of the fire. Dinner hot on the stove. A woman curled up beside you as you strum your newest song on the guitar.”

His chest warmed at the picture she’d painted in his head. That sounded like heaven. Absolute perfection.

She scooted to the edge of her chair and leaned in close. She smelled like a mouth-watering blend of steak and peppercorn, smothered over something softer. Was it vanilla? She was downright edible.

“I have you tell you Mr. Turner, that you’re not the first man to walk into the inn and have that vision. You ain’t the first, and you won’t be the last. You’re a guest for the next few days, and I’m here to take care of whatever you need. But if you think you’re going to sit there and sweet talk me, acting like I don’t know what kind of player you are, you’re sorely mistaken.” She stood, and stacked the plates. “I’ve read the magazines and I know all about the women you leave in your wake. I don’t plan on being one of them. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

As she stormed out of the room, Cole went rigid, muscle to bone.

Ooh, the blood lurched through his veins now. No woman had ever stood up to him that way before. They were usually falling all over themselves, smiling ear to ear, leaning on his shoulder and playfully bumping him in the arm. He’d never been turned down. Never been denied when he’d wanted something.

This woman had fire, shutting down his advances before he’d had a chance to really lay on the charm.

Little did she know, there was nothing he loved more than a challenge.





Chapter Three





Rachael awoke at five o’clock, ten minutes before her alarm clock went off. Tiptoeing down the hall so she wouldn’t wake her guest, Rachael showered quickly, and then dressed in jeans and a deep-red sweater with a slouching neckline. She pulled her back into a ponytail, drew on coffee-colored eyeliner and swiped lip-gloss over her lips.

As she slipped downstairs, Rachael couldn’t get over how quiet it was. Although she always woke up before the guests, she could usually hear them stirring by the time she headed downstairs.

Not a single peep sounded from Cole’s room.

She got to work as usual, pulling out the electric frying pan and starting it up. She prepped the food: bacon and sausage, eggs and English muffins. Pouring a cup of coffee, Rachael sat down in front of the kitchen window. She sipped slowly and watched the sun rise, feeling delicious warmth radiate through her.