Crazy in Love (Blue Lake #3)(9)



“What’s that?”

The rows of grapes ended at a huge house—more like a mountain mansion, really—with large, rectangular windows in front. Rachael turned left, and drove around the building, to where parking stalls had been outlined with gigantic pegs of wood.

“She only recently built the amphitheater where you’re performing,” she said, pulling into a stall. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re the second musical act, and the one that’s going to really kick off the spring into summer music schedule. Lucy and I decided to partner and give discounted rates for the musicians who stay at the inn. You stay with me, I drop you off and pick you up if you need me to, and you play here.”

She turned off her Rav4 and hopped out. Only after he was alone in the cab, did he really hear what she’d said. She didn’t drive him here because she wanted to, or because he’d asked her. She’d driven him because it was part of the deal with her friend. Part of the show package between the inn and the winery.

She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want him.

Gritting his teeth, Cole got out of the SUV and met Rachael at the edge of the lot. They’d parked on a hillside, the spread of the valley opening up below them. Grapes stretched over the land, to the east and west, north and south. In front of the stage, the hillside had been carved away to make room for fans to sit in a horseshoe-shaped grassy area. Below that, where the hill leveled out, hundreds of chairs had been set up in staggered rows. People buzzed about, setting up the stage and speakers, the chairs and security rails. Cole’s crew was unmistakable, dressed in their usual black coats and jeans. They’d have this place suited up for the show in no time.


“Amazing set up, right?” Rachael said.

He nodded, checking out the trees on the hills to the north and south.

“All of this used to be vineyard,” she went on. “Lucy didn’t break ground until last year. The place has come a long way. I helped her with the landscaping over there”—she pointed—“and over there. And the guest shop inside had to be expanded. We worked out the plans for that together over dinner one night.”

“I would’ve thought the inn dominated your hours,” he said. “When did you find the time to help revamp this place?”

“You don’t find time to help friends…you make time.”

“That was sweet of you.” Really sweet. “People in my line of work don’t help with anything unless they’re paid.”

She shook her head. “That’s a pity.”

It really was. There wasn’t a single person Cole could call who’d come to help him if he needed it. Not unless he was going to open up his wallet when the work was through.

He had to admit, they’d done a great job with the place. The sights were spectacular. Just the way the place had been described to him: a music stage in the middle of the Sierras, and somewhere to play beneath the stars. The air smelled clean and sweet, consumed with the fragrant notes of the grapes.

“I’ve never played outside before,” he said, his voice low.

“Really?”

“Playing in the open like this…” …was going to be something he’d always remember. He looked up at the pristinely blue sky before starting the trek down the hill on a set of wooden stairs. “It’s how Rita roped me into coming to Blue Lake in the first place, but I didn’t realize what I was getting into. People around here will really pay fifty bucks to sit out in the freezing cold for the night?”

“No, they won’t do that at all.” Rachael followed a few steps behind him. “They’ll pay fifty bucks to sit out in the cold and listen to you play. You’ve got to be good to sell this place out.”

Kristin Miller's Books