by C. M. Steele
Rocky Waters
Lovers Lake Series
C.M. Steele
Copyrighted © 2021
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, copied or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without written expressed permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental.
Cover design: Cormac Covers
Cover Image: Deposit Photos
The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as advertisement. Trademark names are used in an editorial fashion with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.
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Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue
Blurb: He needs his solitude to meet his deadline, which looms ever closer as the days fly off the calendar. Bennett heads to his cabin to get the words down. There’s only one little problem; some people have invaded his privacy, and that’s just unacceptable. So they all have to go…save one.
Darcy’s doing her first couples photoshoot, and her nerves are on edge. Finally, they reach Bennett Lake, which is spectacular and peaceful until the sound of growling catches her attention. Only it’s no bear or wild animal. It’s a man with beautiful grey eyes that don’t look pleased.
Before anyone knows what’s going on, Darcy’s over the brute’s shoulder like she’s payment for the trespassing. Everyone else scatters like the wind, leaving her to stare at his tightly fitted jeans as he carries her away.
Chapter One
Bennett
Stepping out of my rented Lincoln MKX outside the local Lakeland grocery store, I’m immediately greeted by the town’s mailman. “Hey, Rocky. You’re here earlier than usual. Got a deadline?” he asks with a wink. The man has to be sixty. I remember him when I was a little boy that he delivered the mail through the harshest conditions with a smile on his face.
“Yep, Mr. Taylor. Have a good one.” I walk on, leaving our conversation there as I enter the store. I’m not much of a talker, and they all know it, so the locals don’t bother with anything more than a quick hello. It’s not because I’m famous and I think I’m better than them; it’s just who I am. I’ve lived here most of my life and well, they’ve always known I save my words for my pages.
The ding from the sliding doors draws attention to me, and I get a couple more friendly “hellos” as I snag a shopping cart. The locals don’t mind my silence because socializing isn’t my style. I take my time, getting everything I need to stock up, so I don’t have to make an unnecessary trip later on in the week.
Once I toss my things onto the conveyor belt, I see a high school classmate that I remember well. Jason Watson’s directly in front of me, wearing a football jacket for the local team with the word “Coach” emblazoned on the back. I’m glad that he still gets to participate in football.
We don’t speak to each other and that’s because he’s the guy who ended up on the wrong end of my fist. Jason started the fight, but I ended it. Now I’m actually taller and well cut in comparison to when he used to pick on me.
He walks off with his bags, shoulders stiff, looking a bit bothered by our brief encounter, so I reach out and stop him. “Jace, can we leave the past where it belongs?” He pauses, assessing my offer, and then with a smile, he nods.
“Sure. I’m still sorry about the bullying bullshit.” His face is flushed with embarrassment. Being an introverted, quiet person has allowed me to read people and their body language well. He’s truly embarrassed about his behavior, but we can’t change the past.
“It’s all water under the bridge. I became a tougher man for it,” I confess.
It’s the truth. No one intimidates me now and I don’t allow anyone to believe they can.
“Okay. Take care,” he mutters, avoiding eye contact with me.
I extend my hand for a handshake which he readily does. “Same to you.” He leaves and I feel a lot better about it, and I hope he does, too.
I pay for my groceries, quickly exit the store, and load my rental with the twenty plus bags. Slipping on my sunglass, I start the engine and pull out of the parking spot onto the main road. As I drive by, people wave to me, so I return the greeting. I’m not sure who they are, but everyone’s so damn friendly that they say hello to anyone and everyone.
The road becomes desolate as I get out of town and travel up the winding road to my family’s cabin. We’ve had it in our family for a century although it’s been updated and expanded over the past few decades to a six-bedroom, four bath home.
I pull up the driveway, park outside the garage door, and then enter the code to pull inside the massive five-car garage. It’s large but almost completely empty. I only keep an extra car in here for emergency use.
“Life is good.”
Cutting the engine, I hop out and grab my computer bag and the first set of grocery bags. I’ve picked up enough groceries for my time at the cabin and then some. I’m not sure how long I’ll stay, but it’s usually two weeks.
Technically I could live up here forever, but frankly, I don’t like the brutal winters. Besides, I have a ranch in Texas that I love. This beautiful place is my writing retreat that I indulge in at least once a year. I take in a deep breath and open the interior door that connects to the garage to the cabin.
Once I get the first round inside, I notice that the cleaning company I hired has done its job. The place is immaculate even down to the nooks and crannies. There isn’t a speck of dust or cobwebs to be found. I take a stroll through the house and make sure that I’m alone, and there doesn’t seem to be a family of wolves living here. Thankfully, I’m completely isolated.
Four years ago, I got a shock of a lifetime, walking in to find a pack of wolves making my living room their home. I hired a company to inspect the property every month. It’s sure as hell one heck of a surprise I have no intention of repeating. For some reason the wolves love this area as much as I do, and we still get them from time to time. A wildlife rescue team takes them up north to their normal habitat. From what they tell me, the wolves love the water source nearby which I don’t mind as long as I’m not around for it.
My ringtone, All About the Benjamins, goes off in my jacket pocket, and I know that it can only be one person, my literary agent Sean McFadden. I slide it out and answer because he’ll only just call back until I do.
“What’s up?” I huff into the phone, hating that I’m already being interrupted.
“Damn, why so angry?” Sean actually sounds concerned. He’s not only my agent, but also one of my few friends.
“I’m not angry. I’m getting my shit out of the rental.”
He scoffs, “Please, you could bench press me. You’re not winded; you’re annoyed, but that being said, I’m glad y
ou made it there safely.”
“Me too. I got here before the roads got busy in Denver,” I grumble. That sure as hell would have made the trip an hour longer than it had to be.
I came up to my retreat earlier than usual this year because I need a break from the monotony which will help with my writing.
“How was the flight?”
I pop open a bottle of water, take a drink, and then answer him, “The same as usual. I’d rather drive, but that kills too much time. How’s my dog?” I immediately regretted not bringing him with me the second I got on the plane. He’s a good boy and good company on days when I’m struggling to stay focused. We run around in the woods for a bit then we’re both settle in so I can crush my chapter goals. I love my dog.
I hear barking and Sean laughing, so I head back into the garage and pull the next round of bags out of the trunk as he replies “Good. He’s looking out the back window of my truck toward your place. I’m only just leaving the ranch.”
Poor dog probably knows what I’m up to.
“Damn, poor fella. Well, if he didn’t get into a fight last time we were up here, then I wouldn’t have forced his ass to stay down there.” I drop off the bags on my counter and then go back out to grab my two suitcases. I have more than enough clothes to avoid doing laundry before I leave, but I never know because the weather can be temperamental, so I’ve prepared for a power outage on cold nights and for hot days.
“True, but he was bonding with his ancestral brothers,” Sean chuckles out.
Bonding my ass. I have relocated the pack of wolves that find this area so inviting, but they could come back, so I can’t leave my dog to his own devices. I don’t want Beast to be aimlessly padding around the cabin, whimpering to go outside the entire time I’m trying to write. Before they attacked him, I was able to let him out back and he’d roam for a bit which worked for me because once I get started writing, sometimes it’s painfully difficult to get me to take a break.
I move around the kitchen putting away the groceries as Sean babbles on about my deadline. “I know, I know. It’s coming up…in three months.”
“Yes, but you’ve only gotten the outline done in the past two months, so it’s a bit of a concern.”
“Actually, I have that, and the first ten chapters started, but I’m not ready to share them until I’m at the halfway point,” I remind him.
He’s always on me about my deadlines because he’s afraid that I’ll somehow forget, and I suppose that is his job, but it irks me because I know I’ll do it. That’s why I come up here; in fact, that’s why I came up here so early, hoping the words will come quickly. The tranquility of the mountain and the land below gets the creative juices flowing and I can triple my word count here in the same amount of time as I can on the ranch.
“Fine. Enjoy your time away. I’ll keep your pup happy,” Sean grumbles playfully.
“Thanks, Sean. I’ll call you in a day or two.” He knows that I’m probably going to shut my phone off because that’s what I do. You can’t have silence when you invite the world in. Besides, when it’s off, I’m less likely to get diverted from the task at hand.
I finish unloading the groceries and stocking the fridge and cabinets. Easy to make home cooked meals are my favorite. Now off to get my workstation set up. That’s a project all on its own.
I set up my desk in the corner office of the cabin that faces a large picture window to see all the nature around when I write. It’s an entirely different atmosphere from my home. It’s not that I don’t get writing done at home and yes, I release more than one book a year, but this is where the intensity doubles. I find my best writing is done here.
****
Four days later…
Writing to the sounds of rushing water, birds singing in the trees does me good because I manage to bring my manuscript to life. It only gets better at night when the world is only illuminated by the giant moon and the spattering of hundreds of stars miles away. The owls hoot as the wind blows through the forest floor below.
“My mountain getaway,” I sigh, feeling at peace. I made the right choice to come early.
Two blissfully isolated weeks alone in my wooden cabin to finish off my latest thriller is just what I need. It’s the fifth book in the series. I take my readers here this time, letting trouble follow my hero into treacherous territory that’s completely out of his comfort zone. He’s never been in the wilderness a day in his life unless you count the local forest preserves. I, on the other hand, have lived in this area since birth. It’s completely isolated, especially when I’m up here because everyone knows that I love my privacy. The lake and woods are off limits until I leave.
The words flow like the white water rushing down the mountain into the lake as I write through the night. It’s only when my stomach growls that I remember I haven’t eaten. I don’t feel like cooking, so I open the fridge, make a meaty sandwich, and take a seat on my front porch. It’s a nice night and yet, I feel like I have to get back inside and finish the rest of the book tonight.
It’s three in the morning, and I have the first twenty-five chapters written. I’m about to turn off my computer when I decide to send it off to Sean to get him off my back and to see if the story works. Nothing like writing fast only to find what you wrote isn’t worth lining the trash can. Still, I know what I have is good this time. I’m well ahead of schedule as I head to bed. I strip out of my clothes and slip into a pair of pajama bottoms even though back in Texas, I sleep naked. It may be almost summer, but the nights can be cold in the mountains. After the long days I’ve been pulling, sleep comes easy.
My phone goes off, waking me out of my sleep. I don’t even get to say hello before Sean exclaims, “Wow, this is fucking incredible.”
I look at the phone and see the time through blurry eyes. “It’s six-thirty, Sean. If you didn’t notice I sent you that at three in the morning.”
“Well that’s what you get for sending it to me when I couldn’t fucking sleep. Now, I need the rest. How much do you have left to finish?” Sean questions with that excited energy that makes me forget that I’ve only just fallen asleep. His enthusiasm triggers my own and I’m grinning from ear to ear.
“I’ve got another ten chapters to go. I’ll be done by next week and I can send it off to my editor for his thoughts.” When I love something I’m writing, so does my editor. With Sean’s excitement, I know this will hit all the bestsellers lists, which makes me feel incredible.
“Next week, you prick? I could choke you. I want the rest now.”
“That long? Shit okay. I’ll talk to you later. Get some damn sleep. I know I am.” I hang up on him and power down my phone before tossing it onto the chair across the room. I don’t want to hear from another soul until I wake up on my own. I burrow down under the covers and pass out.
It’s ten in the morning before I wake up again and I finally need to feed my inner beast. My stomach’s rumbling like a motherfucker. I probably shouldn’t have skipped breakfast and lunch yesterday. The sandwich for dinner wasn’t enough for my larger build. I pad into the kitchen and get to making some bacon and eggs with toast. The sun hits the front porch as I flip my eggs. It seems like a good day for a hike.
As I sit down to eat a loud crack rips through the morning sky and the clouds roll in. A sudden downpour follows seconds later. Fuck, okay. No hiking today. I still have plenty of time to kill before going back to Texas anyway. I’m sure the sky will be clear at least one more day during my stay, but for now, I’ll stick to why I came here. Thinking about the rest of my book, an idea hits me. “I’ll end it at the lake.”
As I look over to my computer, I think I can perhaps finish the book early. Maybe the next two days will be enough to complete the first draft. My food goes down smoothly, and then I sit back down at my desk to write.
It’s the middle of the afternoon by the time the rain’s stopped falling. It had to drop at least two inches which could be nasty. It will take some time to clear up. Which
is fine by me because there’s just something about this story that pulls me in, and I let loose, page after page, thousands of words rush onto the document. I know that I only need one more solid day of writing to have the ending complete.
It’s about three AM again when I finally turn off my laptop and let my head hit the pillow. The rain chooses that moment to begin again, and it lulls me into a deep sleep.
****
The following day, I’m up at it just after eight, writing furiously. I’m not sure what’s driving my motivation, but the words demand to land on the page. Sean may get what he wants a lot sooner than expected. I wonder if this will be my best book yet. I always strive for better, so I’ll read through it and make notes over the next couple of days before sending it to my editor.
Six hours later and I type, “The End.” It feels too damn good. I save it and then send a copy to Sean. Turning off my computer, I think it’s about time for a walk just around the property before I fix dinner for myself. I stretch out my arms for a few minutes because they’re pretty tight right now. Then I get myself prepared to leave the house.
“Shit,” I grumble. I forgot to turn on my phone. Oh well, I’m not supposed to have distractions anyway.
Chapter Two
Darcy
Smiling to myself, I continue to pack my duffel bag for the weekend trip. I’m squealing inside, knowing that I’m going to be working with Michael Cole. He’s a killer photographer that people would sell their soul to work with.
“I’m so happy that you get to go to see beautiful mountains, but you have to promise to be careful,” my sister Georgie says. She’s nineteen going on forty. Without Georgie, I don’t know where I’d be. She keeps me grounded and a hell of a lot less flighty.
“I will. You know I will. Besides, I doubt Michael is going to try anything.”
“I’m not worried that he’s going to maul you. I’m more worried about you being out where there are jagged rocks, wild animals and the like.”