Crazy in Love (Blue Lake #3)(7)

“Everything okay up there?” Rita hollered, leaning over the banister.

“We’re clear!” Bronx answered.

Rita put her phone away as Cole’s guards stomped down the stairs. It probably wasn’t the best time to jump back into a conversation about what happened in Houston, or why his manager wanted to keep him somewhere quiet.

“So where are the rest of you staying?” Rachael asked, twisting up newspaper and throwing it into the hearth.

Rita sighed. “Blue Lake Motel. Would it kill you guys to put up a Hilton?”

It would actually, yes. The town prided itself on small, mom-and-pop shops and the ability to keep big businesses out of the area.

“Can I get you some coffee?” Rachael asked, waiting for the fire to light.

Rita shook her head, and for the next thirty minutes, she asked a ton of questions about Blue Lake, the hotel, winery, and the Big Box stores they refused to let in. When Rachael mentioned they didn’t have a mall, Rita paled. Rachael covered a laugh by taking a long drink of her coffee.

Cole traipsed down the stairs, his entourage behind him. He’d dressed in dark-washed jeans, combat boots, and a long-sleeve T-Shirt with the Rolling Stones mouth printed on it.


“You’re late,” Rita said, jabbing a finger at her iPad. “I’ll call StoneMill and let them know we’re on our way.” She kinked her head, looking irritated. “Apparently, they’ve dropped off the face of the earth. They’re not listed in Yelp.”

“Morning, Rachael,” Cole said, his voice deep and velvety.

Her stomach fluttered and she tried to hide her smile with her hand. “Good morning, Mr. Turner. Did you sleep well?”

“I slept alone,” he said flatly, and then sniffed toward the kitchen. “Dude, what’s that smell? Is that…sausage?”

“Bacon and eggs, too.” She started toward the kitchen. “Want a plate to take with you?”

Holding a hand to his stomach, he growled. He actually growled. “That sounds—“

“No time!” Rita grabbed him by the arm and tried to drag him toward the front door. “Ms. McCoy, you wouldn’t happen to have a phone book, would you? The winery’s not listed.”

“Lucy Stone’s cell is 209-555-6956,” she answered.

Rita stopped, stared. “How do you know that off the top of your head?”

“Lucy’s a great friend of mine.”

Cole grinned. “Perfect. Rita, take the crew to the winery and I’ll meet you there.”

“And how exactly are you getting there?” Rita spat.

As he stood at Rachael’s side, she picked up hints of his aftershave, crisp and spicy. “She’ll make me a plate, and take me over in her car. I’ll eat while she drives.”

Demanding, much?

“You do have a car, don’t you?” he asked, looking down at her.

“Oh, I can get you to the winery.” She nodded. “It’ll only take me an hour to water the horses and ready the carriage.”

He smirked, but no one else in the room seemed amused.

“Fine,” Rita said, “but we had things to discuss on the drive over.”

“We’ll talk later.” His gaze caught Rachael’s. “You don’t mind dropping me off, do you?”

Yes, I totally mind.

“No, I had to head out of the house anyway,” she said. “But I’m just dropping you off. I can’t stay. I’ve got errands to run this morning and work to do around here this afternoon.”