Rocky Waters (Lovers Lake)

"What? What makes you think that?"

"I mentioned the lake and then you have one of his books in your hand. It's a dead giveaway. I’ve been trying to call him all day, but he’s got his phone off which means he’s writing like crazy, so he won’t mind that we’ll be there while he’s working.”

He’s going to be there? I try to catch my breath and then blurt out, “I thought he lives in Texas.”

“He does, but he comes up here to work for a couple of weeks a year.”

“He’s in town?” I gasp.

“Damn, girl, you got it bad,” Michael teases. The elevator dings and I'm saved by the bell since my room is just off the elevators. I grab my suitcase from Michael.

"Thanks, guys. I'll see you later." I swipe my card and close the door behind me before they get to say goodbye. My heart’s racing as I think about meeting him.

I'll send a message to Michael later, apologizing. I don't like the jealous way Warrick acted when he realized I was daydreaming about someone else. I don't even know the guy. Maybe he's got an ego on him and since I didn't drop at his feet begging to be taken, I've ticked him off.

Oh well. I drop everything next to the door and plop onto the bed, kicking off my shoes in the process. Suddenly, I have the urge to look up Bennett Lake for the thousandth time. I wonder if Michael knows him well enough to introduce us. “Girl, get a grip. It’s not like if you met he’d toss you over his shoulder and carry you away to do filthy things to you.” No. He’ll probably grunt and nod politely and offer an autograph or something before walking away.

Chapter Three

Bennett

With a day to kill, I decide that today is the perfect day to go for a hike down to the lake. It’s been a great hike this morning until my phone rings. It’s my friend, the world renown photographer, Michael Cole. He’s a cool guy and is the one who did my headshots for my marketing team that Sean insisted I needed. “What’s up, Michael?”

He sighs, “Hey, Rocky, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you since yesterday. I’m taking two models to the lake today and wanted to see if it was cool.”

“You know I’m up here working,” I bite out, hating that there’s people wanting to disturb my peace.

“Well, then it shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll only be here for a few hours and well, my female model is a huge fan of yours.” He says it like I should be happy about it. When have I ever been overjoyed about female attention? Never.

“Son of a bitch. I’m not interested in meeting a big fan of mine. I don’t want them to know where I live. Besides, I’m out on a hike and now I’m almost to the lake’s edge. Where are you?”

He chuckles, “I’m by the lake already. I’m sorry, but I figured it wouldn’t be a big deal since you’d be inside writing.”

“For you it’s not, but…”

“Hold on a sec.” I wait as I hear him say, “Stand together,” away from the phone.

Returning his attention back to the phone, he says, “I’m sending you a pic. Darcy’s beautiful and she was actually reading your book when she got here, so I thought maybe you could say hi at least.”

“I’ll think about it.” I end the call and refuse to check the text message. I’m not interested in any women, and especially a groupie or whatever Sean likes to call them. Still, I don’t want to be a dick. What if she heard what he said and is waiting for a brief intro? I don’t want to come off as an asshole just because I don’t want women throwing themselves at me.

I pull out my phone and go to shoot him a text, agreeing to the meet and greet when I see the image he sent.

“Fuck me.” I stop, lean against a large tree before I fall out on my ass as I stare at the picture. Long brown hair with sun kissed highlights with pretty waves, framing her lightly flushed face, standing there with a smile is my future wife. Unfortunately, there’s a dumb fuck that wants his arm broken. It’s around my woman. I’ve never been a violent man okay; that’s a lie. I fought Jason like my life depended on it, earning me the nickname Rocky because I was so much smaller than my opponent and I still won.

I call Michael back, but the asshole doesn’t answer. So I shoot him a text.

Get that asshole away from my woman.

I send a second message. Now.

I push off the tree with almost enough damn force to hear the slightest crack in the fucker. I’ve never been one to use my fists because I’ve never had to, but I’ve spent years with sparring partners at the gym and constantly building up my physique. I’m about to destroy this son of a bitch. I look at the picture again, nearly causing myself to trip, so I stop again. She’s in a pair of cutoff jeans and a powder blue bikini top. I swear I let out a growl so loud that they might actually hear me from where they’re at.