Lucky 7 Bad Boys Contemporary Romance Boxed Set

by Pineiro, Charity

“I hear Cole Turner left town last night,” he said nonchalantly.

  Rachael’s heart thudded at the mention of his name. “Uh-huh.”

  “Did something happen with him at the inn?”

  “No,” she said too quickly. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because I thought he was supposed to leave this morning. Wonder why he checked out early?”

  He must not have read the online article.

  “Oh.” Why was she so jumpy? “He wanted to get an early start on the next part of his tour, I guess.”

  He eyed her curiously. Disbelievingly.

  “Can we talk about something else?” Her palms itched. Must’ve been pieces of hay in the air. “Something not related to Cole Turner?”

  “Sure,” he said, shooting her a bright smile. “You look gorgeous tonight.”

  She cut off a large bite of steak and shoved it into her mouth. “Ffanks,” she mumbled. “Didjou cook mphis?”

  He nodded, pleased. “I love to cook.”

  Good-looking. Great cook. Hard-working fireman too, she bet.

  “Tell me…” She swallowed hard. “…why didn’t you marry Kiki-what’s-her-face? You guys dated for years.”

  “Three, to be exact,” Joey said between bites. “Kiki is great and I’ve got nothing but nice things to say about her, but…” He leaned over the table. “Rachael, I have to be straight with you.”

  Oh boy, here it comes.

  “I’ve wanted to bring you here for years,” he said, reaching across the table to hold her hand.

  “Here?” To the Sutherlands’ barn? “Why?”

  “Don’t you remember what happened here?” When she stared, confused, he continued on. “Sophomore year. Right before you hooked up with Trent from Moose Valley. Tierra had a party, we both had too much to drink and—“

  She sucked in a tight breath. “We kissed.”

  She’d completely forgotten about that.

  “It was magic,” he went on. “But then you dated Trent for years, and I finally moved on. By the time you broke up with him, I was knee deep in a relationship with Yvette. Do you remember her?”

  “She was blonde right? And used to work at SawMill Market?” She nodded. “I remember.”

  “When things ended between us, I looked you up and you’d moved on with someone else.” He poured her a glass of wine. “You were never single and if you were, the timing was off with me.”

  “I know it.” She drank heartily. “I felt the same way. Like I was always waiting for things to click between us. For things to feel right.”

  He nodded slowly. “We’re both here now.”

  “We are.”

  “And we’re both available.”

  Since Cole had left town she’d never felt more available or more single.

  She was alone, and that had always been fine. Sure, she’d wanted a husband and children, but that was a dream on the horizon. As a deep longing hollowed her middle, Rachael knew she didn’t want to be alone anymore. She didn’t want those things in the distant future. She wanted them sooner rather than later.

  A deep, sultry voice oozed from the speakers of the truck and hit Rachael’s ears. She’d never heard the song before, but she would have recognized the voice anywhere.

  Cole.

  Her chest warmed and tingled at the sound of his voice, and every single moment she spent with him came flooding back through her mind like a movie reel.

  “Rachael?” Joey knelt in front of her. When had he moved around the table? “Are you okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

  “I thought we were listening to country.” She fidgeted with her napkin and spun her knees away from him. “I mean, weren’t we?”

  Cole’s songs didn’t belong on a country station.

  “It’s not the radio,” he said. “I hooked up my iPod to play through the truck’s speakers. We can listen to the radio, if you’d rather.”

  Did he not hear what was playing? He must not have recognized Cole’s voice as easily.

  “It’s just…” she trailed off, unable to speak the words.

  He paled. “It’s one of Cole Turner’s. I didn’t realize it’d added this song to this playlist. You don’t like rock. I’ll change it.”

  “No, it’s okay.”

  “You sure?” He nodded, his eyebrows knitted together as if he was genuinely concerned. “Your skin is ice cold.”

  She hadn’t even noticed his hands covering hers.

  “If you’re not feeling well,” he said, “I can take you home. We can stop by StoneMill and I can get you some chicken noodle soup.”

  Always the protective knight. Why couldn’t she feel something with him?

  “No, I’m fine.” She forced a smile. “I’d like to finish dinner, if that’s all right with you.”

  “It is,” he said, his voice gentle. “But I’m afraid dinner won’t be enough.”

  She knew what he meant, and a response wouldn’t come. Even as he rose up and curled his hand around the back of her neck to draw her mouth to his, she remained frozen in place. His lips touched hers, a gentle caress that should’ve knocked her boots off.

  Instead, as the seconds ticked by with their lips melded together, she fought to keep her eyes closed. She started to pull away, but he followed her, pressing against her lips more forcefully.

  She jerked back and opened her eyes.

  He stared, wide eyed. “Did you feel that?”

  “What?”

  He set his hands on her thighs and squeezed. “Did you feel anything?”

  She winced, and then shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Cole. I think I owe you an apology.”

  “Joey,” he said. “You called me Cole. I’m Joey.”

  Face-palm. “I’m sorry, I know who you are. I’m all screwed up and this is totally my fault. I shouldn’t have even come here tonight. I started to really like him, even though I knew I shouldn’t, but then he left and I’m here and you were the one I wanted before him. You’re perfect. Everything I thought I wanted.” She paused, watching a troubled expression flit over his face. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel a spark when I’m with you.”

  “It’s okay,” he said, cupping her cheek in his hand. “I didn’t feel anything behind the kiss either.”

  “You didn’t?”

  She didn’t know whether to feel relieved that he didn’t like her or concerned that her kissing skills sucked.

  “I guess the spark died over time,” he said. “And you know what? That’s fine. At least now I won’t spend the rest of my life wondering if this might’ve been it, you know?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled, feeling lighter. “I know.”

  “I saw the picture on the Internet, the one with you and Cole in your kitchen. I didn’t want to be the first one to bring it up.” Joey sat back on his haunches. “Is that why you didn’t say anything? Because you think you have it with him? Is he ‘the one’?”

  She shrugged and bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know, but I don’t want to waste my life wondering.”

  “Good call.”

  He kissed her hand, helped her up, and then escorted her back to his truck.

  It was then that she realized Joey would always be a gentleman…he simply wasn’t hers.

  Chapter Eighteen

  After Trigger Happy, the last song of the first act, Cole ran backstage and guzzled the bottle of water that had been left for him. The band continued to wail as the lights dimmed and their solos started. Cole had ten minutes to take a breather, drink some water, and wipe the sweat off his bare chest while the crowd became amazed by the talent of the drummer and lead guitarist.

  So far, Cole had brought the show down. The crowd’s energy was staggering and over-the-top. So much more than he anticipated. According to what Rita told him before the show started, Harrah’s showroom had remained sold out. Either Scratchy’s fans were more eager to watch a rock show than they’d expected, or seats that opened up were immediately sold.

&nb
sp; Rita appeared beside him and handed him a towel. “You’re killing it out there,” she said. “Do you hear that crowd?”

  Cole nodded, swiping the towel over his chest. “Did you let the showroom manager know about the change of plans for the end?”

  “Yes, but are you sure you want to do this?”

  “No turning back now.”

  And if his songs were well received, if he didn’t get booed off the stage afterward, he’d call Rachael and invite her to the show tomorrow night. He’d surprise her with front row seats so she could hear the songs she’d inspired.

  She had to know how much he thought about her, how she plagued him in the best possible way. He’d never known anyone like her, so giving and caring, so attentive, yet self-assured and independent. And she didn’t look at him like Cole Turner the rock star. It was as if she wasn’t blinded by Hollywood’s glitz and glamour and truly liked him for who he was…the thought gave him strength.

  With Rachael at his side, he felt whole in a way he’d never known.

  “All right,” Rita hollered over the screams of the crowd. “Ronnie’s solo is almost over. Go out there and hit ‘em hard. When the lights black out after Darkness Awaken, I’ll bring you your favorite guitar and a barstool. That’s all you need, right?”

  No, he needed Rachael beside him to share this moment with. What he was about to do was completely different than anything he’d ever done before. These were the songs of his heart. Once the words left his lips, he’d be exposed. Vulnerable. What if they hated the songs and rejected him?

  Nerves rattled in Cole’s stomach. If Rachael were here she’d know what to say, and how to soothe him.

  “That’s all I need for now,” he said, but he needed Rachael like the air in his lungs and the guitar slung over his shoulder.

  Adjusting the guitar strap, Cole darted back onstage to sing the last set before his own songs.

  * * *

  Rachael drove hard and fast, and when she pulled up to Harrah’s in Tahoe a mere two hours after leaving Blue Lake, she thanked the Lord above that she hadn’t gotten a speeding ticket.

  She parked in the self-parking lot and darted inside, heading straight for registration.

  What would she say to Cole when she saw him? Hey, just wanted to tell you I want more than a weekend fling. Don’t go back to Hollywood. Kiss me until I stop over-thinking this.

  All of those things would work, but none of them felt right. The only thing burning to leap off her lips were three tempestuous words: I love you.

  It was crazy to think she loved a man she met three days ago, but since the day she met Cole Turner, he somehow managed to burrow into her soul. She couldn’t imagine life without him.

  “Excuse me?” she said, sliding up to the hotel registration counter. “What room is Cole Turner staying in?”

  The short man behind the counter grinned without showing his teeth. “I can’t tell you that ma’am. Privacy issue. Are you checking in?”

  “No, I…” What was she going to do? Wait in the lobby until she caught him walking out? Clearly she hadn’t thought this through. “…I just needed to say something before it was too late.”

  “I could lose my job if I gave out that kind of information, especially since I’ve been given specific orders from his manager to keep his room number private.” His smile disappeared as fast as it came. “I’m sure you understand.”

  Her heart squeezed. “Yeah, I do.”

  “So,” he said, folding his hands over the counter, “checking in?”

  What was her other option? Wait in the lobby? Come hell or high water she would see him tomorrow for his show, but she’d need a place to crash for tonight.

  “Fine.” She took her ID and credit card from her purse and slid it over.

  His fingers flew over the computer keys. “All we have left is a luxury empress suite. Full kitchen and living room. King size bed. Magnificent views of the Sierras. Top floor.”

  “Seriously?” She sighed. If she wanted to run into Cole, she had to stay. “Fine, whatever, just give me the paperwork.”

  As she signed the registration form, the concierge handed her the key. “Take the elevator to the eighteenth floor, and the room will be the last on the right.” He unfolded a brochure in front of her showcasing the music acts for the month. A scorching picture of Cole was on the left flap, a smoldering gleam in his eye, a guitar slung over his shoulder. “Every luxury empress suite reservation comes with a complimentary ticket to one of our shows.”

  “Perfect!”

  At least she’d save the cost of tomorrow’s ticket to see him.

  “Tonight’s show was supposed to be Scratchy and the Buccaneers, but they had to cancel.”

  “Scratchy?” She snorted into a laugh. “Hope he didn’t get a rash.”

  The concierge stared, his face a stoic mask. “Cole Turner filled in, but the show is nearly over.”

  “Now?” She screeched, pounding on the counter. “Cole’s playing now? Where?”

  “South showroom.”

  “I’ll take that one. That show.”

  He frowned. “All right, but once I print it there are no refunds. If you miss the show, you don’t get a ticket for tomorrow.”

  “Just print the damn ticket!”

  God, what did a girl have to do to stalk a rock star around here?

  Raising his eyebrows, the concierge stared as if she’d gone nut-so. She probably had. He printed the ticket. Snatching it off the counter, Rachel took off toward the south showroom. She jetted through the casino, winding around slot machines, her thoughts whirling. She wouldn’t ask Cole to stay in Blue Lake, but would he want to? Could he still sing and make records if he didn’t live in Hollywood? Is that what he’d want?

  More importantly, would she, could she, be enough for him?

  There were too many questions and only one way to get the answers.

  When the showroom doors came into view, she slowed. Pulled up her jeans. Yanked down her sweater. Fluffed her hair and draped a few golden waves over her shoulders.

  Show time.

  She heaved open the doors and met two security officers in a blacked-out antechamber. The screams of the crowd exploded into the small room, nearly blasting out her eardrums. She handed the ticket to the burlier of the two security guards.

  “You know the show’s about to end, right?” he hollered, leaning into her ear. “There are only two songs left.”

  “That’s okay, I’m not here for the music anyway.” She opened the curtains and lost her breath as she spotted Cole sitting on a barstool in the center of the stage. He wore a black T-shirt, dark washed jeans, and black boots. He looked relaxed, completely at ease, as he adjusted the guitar over his shoulder and waved at the guests in the front row. The lights in the showroom dimmed and the spotlight honed on him. He smiled, languid and sexy, quieting the crowd and stopping her heart. Her chest warmed, sending a delicious blush blooming over her skin. “I’m here for him.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The concert had been his best yet. One that he’d remember forever. His chest felt light, his head clear, and the guitar may as well have been an extension of his body.

  He’d never played so well in his life.

  As the crowd quieted and he settled on the barstool, guitar in hand, he closed his eyes. He wasn’t used to the awkward quiet. Without Ronnie beating on the drums, and the lead guitar wailing behind him, the stage felt wide and vacant.

  Plucking a few strings, Cole took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

  Rachael.

  The air froze in his chest. His lungs constricted. His eyes burned. He wanted to leap off the stage. Run to her. Wrap her in his arms and never let go.

  Without a single thought in his head, he plucked a few more strings: the beginning of Run to Him. Slowly and unsure, Rachael glanced at her ticket, and then slid into an aisle seat in the center of the showroom.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Cole said, the lack of air leaving him
breathless and dizzy. He held her gaze as he strummed slowly. “I’d like to play something special for you tonight. There are some songs that are painful to write. Ones that wring you out and leave you lifeless. Others, like the one I’m about to play for you, are written in a crazy whirlwind. The words leap onto the page and form a song before you realize you’ve grabbed a pen. This one was inspired by my recent trip to Blue Lake. It’s called Run to Him.”

  He arched back and dove into song, using his fingers to tell the story rather than the words. The crowd disappeared into the shadows, yet somehow Rachael remained illuminated. All the light in the room had trained on her. He dropped into the rhythm and melody, sinking into the feel of the strings as they moved against his fingers.

  As the words escaped his lips, breathy and deep, Cole let his eyes close and lost himself. He wasn’t standing on a stage in the showroom at Harrah’s Lake Tahoe. He was standing in the inn with Rachael in his arms as Joey knocked on the door.

  Run to him, think of me.

  In my heart, you’ll always be.

  He imagined holding Rachael in his arms. Brushing his hand down the silky smooth strands of her honey-blonde hair. Tracing the curves of her body with his fingers, his mouth.

  Promise me you won’t wait,

  Deep down I know you deserve better.

  He pictured her in a white wedding dress standing at the top of the stairs in her inn. A white veil framing her delicate face. A lace dress hugging her perfect frame. A loving gleam in her soft brown eyes.

  I want you to be happy

  Even if that means I sleep alone.

  Love isn’t in the cards for us,

  But it may be for you and him.

  He bled into the music, letting the words cut deep.

  When his chest ached so fiercely he thought he might’ve had a heart attack, Cole opened his eyes. Rachael stared, a hint of awe in her gaze and her mouth falling open in a relaxed pout. As the final verse wrung from Cole’s middle, leaving him weak and empty, he scanned the faces of the crowd. Each one had the same look of wonder as Rachael. He strummed the final lonely string and every person in the audience jolted to their feet.

  He felt as if he’d been drowning. Submerged in a tar-pit of agony and fear. Now, as he came up for air and found that the songs of his heart had been well-received, he nodded in thanks.