Free Crazy in Love by Kristin Miller Page B

whooshed out of Rachael’s lungs. She knew exactly the feeling he spoke of…she’d felt it last night. Those tingly jolts of anticipation still buzzed through her legs.
    “What about you?” he asked Lucy. “Are you nervous?”
    “Me?” she squeaked.
    “You’ve got a lot riding on this too, don’t you?”
    Eyes rolling, Rachael dug in to dinner, chomping into the French bread. Cole and Lucy gabbed for a good ten minutes. Rachael was half-finished with her penne when Lucy finally included her in the conversation.
    “Rachael had her first kiss under the amphitheater stage,” Lucy blabbed, “though it wasn’t a stage back then. It was a massive Oak tree in the center of the vineyard.”
    “Uh-na,” Rachael mumbled, cheeks full. “Dnotalkinboutthat.”
    “Really?” Cole leaned over the table. “Now this is getting interesting.”
    Swallow. Don’t choke. Chewchewchew. Swallow.
    “She kissed the guy who plows the roads.” Lucy matched Cole’s distance across the table. “Though he was much hotter then than he is now.”
    “Dom?” Cole’s voice pitched. “The guy from the bar?”
    Chew. Swallow. Chew.
    Why’d she take such a damn big bite of bread?
    “You met Dom?” Lucy laughed. “Then you know how funny it is to picture them together! He’s not much of a looker now, but back in school, he was hot stuff. Rachael was too.”
    “Still is, in my book.” Cole met her gaze for the first time of the night. His eyes were slightly narrowed, his chin angled down, the perfect come-hither-glare.
    God, she wished he wouldn’t look at her that way. She got shaky all over, edgy and unsure. The food clumped down her throat, but it was too late. They’d already moved on to talking about something else.
    “What do you say we dance?” Cole said, extending his hand to Lucy. “Seeing as how you and I aren’t eating.”
    Rachael eyed their full and barely-touched plates. Sighing, she dropped her fork, wrinkled her napkin and pushed away from the table.
    “Why’d you invite us to dinner if you aren’t going to eat?” Rachael asked.
    “Because that’s what you do when you wine and dine a beautiful woman. You eat, and then you dance.” He stood. “What do you say, Ms. Stone.”
    Smiling like she’d been pronounced Mrs. Turner, Lucy put her hand in his and let him swing her to the far end of the platform.
    How would they dance without—
    On cue, music flowed from the limo. It was slow and sultry. Etta James’s At Last . The limo driver had opened the doors and rolled down the windows. The radio must’ve been on full-blast.
    Rachael tried not to stare as Cole held Lucy against him and spun her around, but she couldn’t help it. She tried to ignore the pinch in her side, and the distaste in her mouth, but the penne was cooked to perfection and her clothes were smooth on the inside. There was no logical reason for her to be experiencing either.
    Hands in her lap, Rachael stared out over the vineyard toward the direction of the amphitheater. The wind picked up, bringing with it rumble of passing cars. People were already arriving at the winery to snag a seat.
    “You’re up.” Lucy shook Rachael’s shoulder. “I’d love to hog him all night, but what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t give you a turn?”
    Rachael caught Cole’s stoic expression over Lucy’s shoulder. His arms may’ve been relaxed at his sides, and his shoulders may’ve rounded forward slightly, but his jaw was clenched tight and a storm raged in his honey-brown eyes.
    “It’s all right.” Rachael took a huge gulp of water and chomped on the ice. “I’m not much of a dancer.”
    “One dance,” he said, extending his hand.
    How could she say no?
    As Kiss Me from Ed Sheeran resounded from the limo’s speakers, Rachael sighed, and then took Cole’s hand. It was cold and rough, though his hands had been soft last night…
    He spun her around and hugged her against him. Keeping her back rigid, Rachael stared over the