Crazy in Love (Blue Lake #3)(57)

He didn’t have time to wonder what Rita would think about the new direction; the driver killed the engine and three other Tahoes parked beside them.

The security team whisked him upstairs to his room where he flopped onto his bed, turned Sports Center on the flatscreen television, and surfed the internet on his phone.

Thank the Lord for wireless.

An hour later though, there was nothing good on T.V. and his phone offered nothing new. It was the same old trash, the same hyper-tech monotony.

Would Rachael be getting ready for her date? Would she be curling her hair and wearing those sexy knee-high boots? Would there be a fire in the hearth and the mouth-watering aroma of dinner in the air? If he was there, they could walk hand in hand down the street and find a quiet restaurant to grab a glass of wine.


God, what he wouldn’t trade for one more night with that woman.

But she was about to go out with someone else. His stomach soured at the thought.

Deep down I know you deserve better.

I want you to be happy.

“Knock, knock!” Rita hollered through the door adjoining her room to his. “Cole! You awake!”

“If I wasn’t before, I am now.” He rolled off the bed and opened the door.

She looked worried, the vein in her forehead protruding more than he’d ever seen it. She wore heels with jeans, a cherry-red sweater and matching lipstick. “The showroom manager called,” she said. “Scratchy and the Buccaneers were scheduled to play tonight, but Scratchy came down with something.”

“Is it a rash?” Cole smirked, and when Rita didn’t laugh, he said, “You know, scratchy? With a rash?”

“Please, Cole, can you be serious for a minute?”

Rachael would’ve laughed at his pathetic joke.

Damn it, why did everything revolve around Rachael? Every thought that streamed through his head, every thing he did or heard…it all started and ended with her. He’d known from the moment they slept together on the hard floor of the inn that something in his chest had softened.

He’d dismissed the feeling at first, but now…he’d never felt this way before. No one had ever stuck with him the way she had. He wanted to be the one holding her hand on the way to dinner. He longed to be the one curled up in bed with her at night, and not just for the sex, though that was slammin’ too. He wanted to hold her until morning. Wake to the sweet smell of her hair.

“They sold out the showroom and need an act for tonight.” Lucy punched him in the shoulder, jarring him. “You’re it.”

His brows pulled together. “Aren’t Scratchy’s fans going to be irritated that they paid for him and got me instead?”

“Are you kidding? Scratchy and the Buccaneers were huge in the eighties, but they’re washed up. Their fans will probably thank their lucky stars to be getting out of that show.” She turned off the television and sat on the edge of his bed. “Besides, Harrah’s is offering to refund the pre-ordered tickets. Any open seats will be sold at the door tonight. They won’t lose money, the fans won’t be angry, and you get a bonus show.”

Suddenly, Cole knew what he had to do.

He pulled a notebook out of one of the boxes his crew had brought in. “Since they’re not my normal crowd, do you think I could play a few new songs?”

Her expression soured. “New songs?”

“I wrote a couple on the way over.”

She shook her head. “We haven’t had time to prep the band.”

He flipped through the notebook, stopped on the page with the chords and lyrics and handed it over. “We don’t need to prep anyone. It’ll be nothing but me, a barstool, and my favorite guitar.”