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.
They loved it…they loved him.
He could breathe again.
“Thank you,” he said, bowing, holding Rachael’s gaze. “That song was written for a woman named Rachael McCoy…a woman who settled into my heart, despite my better attempts to keep her out.”
A tiny squeal pitched above the stream of applause.
If the crowd thought Run to Him was a glimpse into his soul, they had no idea what kind of show they were in for tonight. Everyone—the media and fans—wanted something personal. A glimpse into the deepest, darkest part of him. He’d resisted for so long as if he had something to hide. And when it came to the way his parents left him, he did. But Rachael was different. She was good and real, unlike the other women he’d invited into his life who merely wanted something from him.
She was here.
The most naturally beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life, the woman who cared for others over herself, the one who made him feel whole, as if he didn’t need anyone else, came for him.
He wouldn’t hide when it came to her.
“You’re in for a treat,” he said, rising off the barstool and approaching the edge of the stage. “Rachael McCoy just so happens to be here tonight.”
Applause flared into chaos.
“I’d really like her to come onstage for this final song, but I doubt she’ll listen unless you help her along.” He winked and held out his hand. She cringed, hiding her face in her hands. “Rachael McCoy, would you mind joining me? Just for a moment?”
When she looked up, a tear rolled down her cheek.
“I’ll be your Rachael!” a high-pitched voice screeched from the upper deck.
“I appreciate that.” He waved, and then placed a hand over his heart. “But from here on out there’s only one woman for me.”
Rachael’s mouth fell open and she shook her head.
“Come on,” he said, the crowd chanting with him. “Don’t make me come down there and get you.”
* * *
Can’t be happening, Rachael thought. This can’t be real.
“Better get up there.” The thirty-something blonde sitting beside Rachael bumped her in the shoulder. “Or someone else will.”
Rachael grinned, nerves rattling in her stomach. “Okay,” she said more to herself than the blonde. “I’m going.”
Applause and screams rang out from all around her. Brushing her fingers against her neck, Rachael squeezed the guitar pick pendant in her palm, took a deep breath and then strode down the red carpet toward the stage. Rita caught her arm once she reached the side and helped her up the steps onto the stage.
Outside of the spotlight, Cole took her hand in his. “You ready for this?”
“For what?” She shook her head and looked up into his gorgeous face. “What are you doing? I thought you didn’t want anyone to know about us?”
He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Took me awhile to realize that meeting you was probably the best thing that’s happened to me. I’d be a moron to hide that.”
Did she hear him right? Please, please, please say she did!
“Lake Tahoe!” Cole hollered into the microphone, quickly donning the rock star persona. “I’d like you to give a warm welcome to Rachael McCoy!”
Cheeks hot, Rachael smiled tightly and waved to the crowd.
This wasn’t like him. The Cole Turner she knew didn’t want anyone to know about his past or the women in his present. He didn’t want pictures taken on dates and certainly didn’t want to be heckled with questions about his love life. He was the guy who’d sleep in her bed through the night and bolt before dawn.
Asking her to come on stage and expose their relationship wasn’t like him. Well, she corrected, they didn’t have a relationship, not really….what did they have? What was bringing her onstage going to accomplish? He’d be cemented into her memory as the greatest man she’d never have again. Could her heart take it?
“Would you mind taking a seat?” He motioned to the lone barstool on stage.
Did he expect her to sit front and center? Before she could protest, one of his crewmembers brought out a second barstool and slid it behind her.
“Sit, baby,” he said with that damn sexy smirk. “You’ll like this. Trust me.”
As she perched on the edge, she folded her hands in her lap and tried to calm the racing of her heart. She was probably sweating through her clothes. Was her face glossy? Did she—
All thoughts evaporated as Cole put his hands on either side of her hips and spun her around so that she faced center stage rather than the crowd. Even through her jeans, his touch sparked desire across her skin like lightning in the mountain sky. He adjusted his own barstool across from her and rested on the edge. They were close, three feet away maybe, yet she could smell the musk of his cologne and his naturally spicy scent. She ached to breathe him in, to lean against his chest and nuzzle into his neck.
God, she’d only been away from him a day and she already missed him so much.
He cocked his foot on the bottom rung. Tweaked the strap on his shoulder. Smiled from the corner of his kissable mouth and started playing.
The crowd quieted as the song began, a teasingly slow rhythm that lulled her into a trance. A few plucks of the strings and the rest of the noise in the showroom blacked out.
He thrummed through the first part of the song, and Rachael got the feeling she was about to witness something epic. Something just for her…in front of everyone.
Did he really want to do this?
“This one’s called Crazy in Love,” he said, and began to sing.
“From the first moment I saw you,
when you caught me in my towel,
all blush and blonde hair,
sincere in your apology,
I knew you were mine.
I knew…you were mine.”
Rachael swallowed down tears burning a hole in the back of her throat. She wanted Cole with every fiber of her being. She wanted him the first moment she saw him, yesterday and today. Every moment grew stronger.
God, she loved this man. Her chest ached with desire as she listened…
“I’ll give you all I am,
every piece of me,
Yesterday, today, tomorrow,
for all eternity.”
Rachael stared into his eyes as his fingers worked the guitar in his lap. He swayed, a slow dance back and forth, but his gaze never left hers. It was as if the audience didn’t exist.
Tears pooled heavy on her lashes and when she blinked, they fell to her jeans. The tempo increased as the chorus began.
“I’m a risk, a chance,” he sang, his voice a sexy rasp.
“But if you’ll stay with me,
Say you’ll stay with me…
we’ll be together, madly, crazy in love.”
Heart bursting, Rachael bit back the need to leap off the chair and charge him. But this was his moment. His time to shine.
No…wait.
This was her song. And he was her man.
As if the audience sensed the break in the song and the chemistry sparking between them, their applause increased like a tidal wave, sweeping over the stage. On a deep sigh, Rachael jumped off the barstool and ran at him. He met her, slinging the guitar over his shoulder so he could catch her in his arms. Their mouths collided in a scorching kiss that lit fire to something inside her. When they finally separated, Cole rested his forehead on hers and stroked his hands down the back of her hair.
“What’d you think?” he asked, breathless.
“The song was beautiful.”
“Thanks, but what do you think about the proposition in the song?” He kissed her again. Lighter. Softer. “Will you be with me?”
“Yes,” she whispered, raking her fingers through his hair. “I’m so in love with you.”
He exhaled heavily. “Thank God.”
Grinning, he kissed her open-mouthed, filling her with more light and joy than she’d ever known.
“We’ll figure this out,” he said, nudging his chin at the screaming crowd. “I’ll stay in Blue Lake working on a new album for awhile…as long as you have room at the inn for me.”
A tingly flush bloomed over her skin and she quickly recognized the feeling as pure bliss. “There’s plenty of room.” She sighed against his lips. “There’ll always be room for you.”
For as long as she loved Cole Turner—the warmth in her chest proved it’d be a long while—she’d welcome him into her home, her life, and her heart. And be blissfully happy, crazy, in love.