Lucky 7 Bad Boys Contemporary Romance Boxed Set (158 page)

“You’re beautiful.” His voice was filled with reverence. Total adoration. “I’m going to miss…this.”

A tear rolled down her cheek, but she hid it with a kiss. Cole might not have been able to say what he really meant, but she read between the lines.

She was going to miss him, too.

As his muscles strained on the verge his own release, he thrust into her deeper. Harder. Rachael arched back as another orgasm crested. With a throaty moan, Cole gazed deep into her eyes, cried out her name, and filled her with everything he had to give.

Chapter Sixteen

“When do you leave?” Rachael asked, lying in the crook between his arm and his shoulder. They’d been lying on the floor for hours, and although she wished for many more, it wasn’t going to happen.

“The crew was breaking down StoneMill when I left. That usually takes a few hours.” He brushed his hand over her hair in a loving caress. “They should be here to collect my things any minute,” he went on.

“And you’re sure you don’t want to stay until morning?”

He kissed the crown of her head. “It’s not that I don’t want to stay. It’s better for everyone if I don’t. I shouldn’t be here when the paparazzi shows up. The situation already looks bad, but if they get a shot of me walking out of the inn in the early morning, it’ll only get worse for you.”

Worse than finally finding the guy of your dreams only to have him leave?

“Then we better get moving,” she said. “Wouldn’t want your crew to catch you back here with the innkeeper.”

Not knowing what else to say, Rachael clutched the blanket to her chest and stood, yanking it from beneath his body. As she wrapped it around her shoulders, Cole shoved his legs into his pants and scooped up the rest of the clothes off the floor. He followed her down the hall into the inn and as they reached the top of the stairs, he weaved his fingers between hers.

“How many people do you have checking in today?” he asked quietly.

She shrugged. “A few.”

“What are you going to make for breakfast?”

Back to small talk?
“Cole, I can’t do this.”

She pulled toward her room until their arms were outstretched. He pulled back, hauling her against him. “It’s going to be hard for me to leave too, Rach. Tell me your plans, so when I’m driving to Lake Tahoe I can picture you here. And every morning and every night after that.”

He was going to think of her after this moment? After today? Okay, so that made her feel a little better.

She sighed against his chest. “I’m going to make biscuits and gravy with toast and homemade jelly on the side.”

He moaned. “Okay, okay, enough talk about food. Are you going to do anything with the remodel later today?”

“I don’t think so.”

“And tonight? Any plans?”

“Cooking dinner for the guests, cleaning up after they hit the sack.” Her heart faltered. “Oh damn it! I forgot I have a date with Joey.”

His chest deflated against her cheek. “You’re still going to go out with him?”

“Yeah, I guess, I mean…”

His hands dropped from her waist.

“I completely forgot to cancel,” she said, watching Cole’s jaw tick. “I got so caught up in this, in us.”

“You should go out with him.” The words seemed pulled from Cole’s lips. As if he wanted to say something completely different. “If he’s a good guy, if he’ll be here for you when you need him…you should go.”

She nodded, but she didn’t want to be with Joey. Didn’t want to be dating him if she could be with Cole instead.

But she couldn’t.

She didn’t belong in Hollywood with him, and he didn’t belong in Blue Lake with her.

“Come here,” he said, tugging her hand toward his room. “I want to show you something.”

She giggled, but the sound was strained. “Again?”

“No, not that, you sexy little temptress.” He stroked his hand over hers as he led her to the boxes in the corner of his room…the boxes he’d been so protective over when she’d cleaned up in here the first day. He unfolded the tops and pulled out a stack of photo albums.

“These are from my childhood,” he said, setting them on the bed and turning back to the box. “They’re all I have left.”

Sadness leached through her as she watched him dig through his memorabilia. Sweatshirts came out, along with old Rolling Stone magazines—was that a 1967 date she spotted on the cover?—followed by leather-bound notebooks with the pages falling out. And then, when Rachael thought he wouldn’t reach the thing he’d searched for, he pulled out a small wooden box and flipped open the lid.

“I found music at a desperate time in my life, when I could have gone one of two ways. I could have drowned in depression…or I could’ve channeled my cry for help into my guitar. I chose to write, to play, and that saved my life.” He took out a black guitar pick set on a silver chain and dropped it in the heart of her palm. “This was my first pick. I want you to have it.”

“What?” She flinched. “No, I can’t take that.”

“I didn’t know I was standing at a crossroads when I met you, but I was,” he said, staring deep into her eyes. “If I want to have a career in this business, I need to start writing my own songs again. I know that now.”

Her chest warmed. “I think that’s a great idea.”

“Rita won’t think so, but that’s all right. By the time it takes me to write an original song, she’ll warm up to it.”

“It’s the right way to go,” she said, playing with the necklace in her hand. “Your fans will love the personal touch.”

“Will you wear it?”

“Of course.”

He draped it around her neck and adjusted it over her chest. It was long, like a dog tag chain, with a tiny hole cut into the top of the pick.

“Run to him,” Cole said softly, spinning the pick around. “But if you can, if it’s not too much to ask…think of me when you wear this and know I’ll be thinking of you. I want you to be happy, Rachael.” He leaned down and planted the softest of kisses on her lips. “No matter what.”

Her insides tumbled. “I want you to be happy, too.”

He kissed her again and it tasted like goodbye.

* * *

“And then he just
left
?” Lucy cried, leaning against the doorjamb in the downstairs bathroom. “What’d he say?”

“Nothing.” Rachael scrubbed the tile behind the toilet. “Well, that’s not entirely true. He asked about breakfast again.”

Lucy hmph’d. “Typical male. You know what they say…the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

“Clearly I don’t know anything about how to get to a man’s heart,” Rachael said, putting up her glove-covered hand. “Can we talk about something else? Please?”

“Sure.” Lucy tapped her boot heel against the wall. “Did you watch him as he drove away?”

“Lucy!”

“Hey!” She threw up her hands. “I didn’t talk about his heart!”

Knees aching, Rachael peeled the gloves off her hands and tossed them in the trash. “I watched until he turned off Main.”

Lucy smacked her. “I knew it!”

“Why does that even matter?”

“Didn’t you read The Love Game by Grey Thompson?”

“No, but I hear he’s great.” Rachael sprayed Windex on the bathroom mirror and started swiping. “Isn’t he coming to the Book Bandit for some kind of tour in October?”

Lucy grabbed Rachael by the shoulders and spun her around. “I’m not talking about the Book Bandit or Grey Thompson. I’m talking about you and Cole Hottie Turner. You love him, and that’s why you watched him leave. At least that’s what the book says.”

Rachael’s stomach turned as she remembered the way she’d wanted to run into the street and holler for Cole to turn around and come back. To stay.

But she didn’t.

Couldn’t.

“I don’t love him,” Rachael said, doubting the words as she spoke them. “I don’t.”

Lucy pursed her lips. “Does saying it twice make it true?”

“What kind of a fool would I be if I let myself fall in love with him?” Rachael scoured the sink and faucet until the entire vanity was squeaky clean. “It was a weekend fling. I always knew it.”

“Is that what he said?”

“No.” The necklace hidden beneath Rachael’s sweater burned against her skin. “I think it was more for him, too.”

At least that’s what she hoped.

“Then why are you here?” Lucy whispered. “Why don’t you go after him?”

“How could I?” She tossed the towels in the laundry basket on her way down the hall. “The inn is full for the next week and I’ve got to finish the rooms in the other building.”

Lucy followed a few steps behind, her heels clacking over the hardwood. “I could run the inn for you for awhile. I’d stay here and play goodie-goodie Rachael McCoy while you ran off with the rock star. If duty calls, I can always send my assistant Skylie to fill in. She’s really sweet and always eager to help with whatever I need.”

“For how long?” Rachael spat, turning into her room. She snatched her robe off the back of her door and draped it over her arm. “Two days? Three? And then what? Don’t you think I’ve gone over every scenario in my head? There’s no possible way we’d work. Even if I went to Lake Tahoe to be with him and let you or Skylie stay here taking care of the inn, it would end the same way. He’d go back to Hollywood when his tour ended and I’d stay here. Whatever happened this weekend is over.”

“Fine,” Lucy said as Rachael pushed by and charged back into the bathroom. “So in the meantime you’re going to settle for Joey?”

Tossing the robe on the vanity, Rachael started the water for the shower. “No, I’m going to move on with my life. I’m going to go out to dinner with a sweetheart, a guy who’s going to
be here
for the next twenty years.”

“Is that all you’re looking for? Someone who’s going to stick around Blue Lake? Gee,” Lucy squawked. “If that’s the case, Dom is available. Hell, if you head down to the saloon there’s bound to be a handful of losers who’ll—”

“Okay!” Rachael said, folding her arms over her chest. “I get your point. But Joey isn’t a loser, and I’m not canceling tonight.”

“And you shouldn’t.” Lucy leaned against the door. “You deserve the best, Rachael, and nothing less. If you end up with Joey, great. But don’t settle for anything less than electric.”

Rachael leveled her with a stare. “Electric?”

“Yup.” Lucy nodded. “If Joey doesn’t singe the clothes off your body, he’s not the one for you.”

Rachael’s thoughts shot to Cole. He barely had to look at her and her insides trembled with anticipation.

“Thanks for the advice,” Rachael said, checking the water temperature. “But if you stand here much longer, you’re going to get a peep show.”

With a laugh, Lucy stepped out of the bathroom and locked the door before closing it behind her. She was a great friend. One of the best. Rachael was blessed to have someone like that in her life, someone who would hold down the inn for a night so she could go on a date with a hot fireman.

If only she could find the great love of her life.

Now that she thought about it, Joey was stable, shared the same dreams of raising a family and growing old in this town. He was good looking and a total gentleman. More than that, he was
safe
.

But there’d never been a spark with him.

Was the spark missing with Joey because she’d been too distracted by Cole?

Now that he was out of the picture, it was time to find out.

Chapter Seventeen

It took two and a half hours to drive from Blue Lake to South Lake Tahoe.

Every mile, every hour, Rachael consumed Cole’s thoughts.

Sprawled out on the bench seat with his guitar in his lap, he didn’t mean to write a song about what happened between them. But he did. The chords came naturally, and the words followed after. By the time the SUV pulled into Harrah’s underground parking garage, Cole had finished
Run to Him
and was halfway through another song he hadn’t named yet. At this rate, he would finish the songs for his next album by the time the tour ended.

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.