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She moans into my mouth as her palms slide over my ribs.

A shiver races down my spine at her touch, the reality of her kissing me back. I’ve never felt lucky to be kissed.

Until now.

I count my lucky fucking stars that Julia Silva is even giving me the time of day.

Gripping her hip, I wedge a leg between hers and push her down onto my thigh. A desperate gasp zips between us when the heat of her cunt presses against me.

“You like that?” I murmur against her damp lips.

She peeks back at me from under heavy lids, then grinds herself against me.

That’s all the assurance I need.

I flip us and press her back against the wall. “Your turn is over, Jules. Now we do this the way I want.” I rock my hips just enough to press my leg against her, watching her eyes flutter shut for a beat. “And what I want is to feel you saddle up and ride m—”

“Hey, Emmett? You out here?” Teri calls out into the parking lot, which freezes us in place.

We’re both panting, drugged eyes turning bright and aware in a matter of seconds. My hands don’t move, but my mind is flying a mile a minute.

“Shit.” I can hear the panic in Julia’s whisper. “I’m so fucked.”

I step away, holding my hands up. I don’t know much, but I know I don’t want to be the reason for her demise.

“Go.”

“What?” She straightens, dusting her hands over her dress.

“Around the back. Go. Get out of here.”

I lean in to drop a quick kiss on her forehead and stride away, not wanting Teri to get around the corner and see Julia.

Then I call back, “Be right there!” as I walk straight back into the fire without a second thought. Something that is out of character for me, because I am certainly not known for my selflessness in most circles.

As I walk, I consider the number of times I’ve put someone else’s comfort ahead of my own.

And I realize that outside of my immediate family, I haven’t.

I’ve always rationalized that I suffered quite enough early in life. That now, as an adult, I’m entitled to avoid it at all costs.

Which is weird. Because for her? I’d burn.

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CHAPTER 26

Julia

WHEN EMMETT LEAVES, I creep in the opposite direction. I follow the perimeter of the building and decide my best next step.

I’m not required on set tonight since the bar requires no further prep. I delivered the paperwork to Richard, checked in with the manager, and made sure that everything to do with Romance Ranch was in order for filming. I can easily be available by phone.

I’m just rubbernecking at this point.

It’s like I can’t look away. I don’t need to stay and spend hours watching women squabble over a guy that I’ve come to… I don’t even know.

Want? Because wanting him feels surprisingly good. Like fucked-up as this all is, craving someone is breathing life back into parts of me that I thought might be just… gone.

Is like the right word? It feels bland and childish for whatever is happening between us. Which is a problem.

I make a beeline for my car on the opposite side of the parking lot, deciding that getting the hell out of Dodge is the best answer to my problems. Strapped into the driver’s seat, I wrap my hands around the wheel to pull away.

But I come up short of starting the engine. I’m torn between wanting to walk back in there and help Emmett and the sinking sensation in my stomach that tells me I don’t want to see whatever is going on in there.

I trust my gut, start my car, and drive away from the set. Pulling out, I turn right. It’s not the way home or the way back to Stal Brandt. It’s just one random way to go. And I spend the next couple of hours driving around the valley, stopping at a few of my favorite spots, including my dad’s gravesite.

I never got to know him that well, and in some ways it’s hard to navigate how I feel about his passing. It’s difficult to miss what you never had. But if nothing else, visiting my dad brings me solace.

I’ve heard wonderful stories about him, seen the impact that he had on my brother and on my mom—a woman who has entertained brief relationships but who I don’t think will ever truly move on.

So he seems as good a person as any to confess my confusion to.

I sit on the dry earth and talk to him. “Well, Dad. I got the dream first job. The one that steers me straight down the path to that big-time movie job you convinced me I could do if I set my mind to it. But I… I’m worried I’m going to fuck it all up.”

With a dark chuckle, I run my palms over the bristly grass in front of his headstone. Then I blurt it all out.

I tell him about the cruise ship and Emmett. I tell him about Emmett’s reputation and the tension between him and Theo. I tell him about the quiet hours spent chatting at the diner. I tell him about the kiss. I tell him about the bitter jealousy that swirls inside of me as I’m forced to watch Emmett navigate this show.

I tell my dad details that most daughters probably wouldn’t, but he’s dead, so what the fuck ever.

Hell, I get really comfortable and even tell him about the prickles in my ass and the boner episode that followed.

Getting it all off my chest leaves me more centered. Like I’ve gained some perspective. Like the pressure in my lungs that made me feel as though I was about to explode has finally dissipated a bit.

It’s also left me hungry. Which is why I trudge back to my car, hop in, and head straight to the diner. It’s never too late for an omelet.

I weave through the darkened streets of Emerald Lake until I pull up in front of Martha’s Diner. As I step out of my car, the neon sign on the roof hums, filling the air. One deep inhale of the dusty parking lot comforts me. It urges me forward. I yank the door open with a jingle, and Martha’s head snaps up from behind the cash register.

“Wasn’t sure you were coming in tonight, but that boy of yours is waiting already.”

“Boy of mine?” I ask, confused for a moment.

She winks at me. “Right over there, doll. Table in the corner. The one with the curly hair? He’s not dressed like a cowboy businessman tonight. And honestly?” Her tone turns wistful as she glances in his direction. “If I had to switch teams…” she says with a raspy chuckle.

My gaze lands on Emmett sitting in the corner booth at the back of the restaurant. “Yeah.” I breathe the word.

Because I know exactly what she means. He has that effect on women. Or maybe it’s just that I’m thrown off Emmett’s here. At my place. Waiting for me.

“You all right, Julia?”

“I don’t know,” I confess to her, eyes still on Emmett. “I’m worried I might be in the process of making a very big mistake.”

“Good,” Martha startles me by saying. “You’re about due for some mistake-making. You know Danielle and I love having you here every night. But, baby, that’s not healthy. Two middle-aged women shouldn’t be your only friends in the world. And I for one am glad to see you’re not isolating yourself so much. You’re young. You’re smart. You’re beautiful. Life is messy, stop being a germophobe.”

A sad laugh pitches from the back of my throat. I have been isolating myself and I’m not even sure I noticed it happening. I got scared and I went into hiding. Now the thought of emerging from the safety of my burrow feels… daunting.

“He’s already got two menus over there for you, doll. Go make that mistake. I bet that man could teach you a thing or two. Plus, look at those forlorn little puppy eyes. Go put him out of his misery.”

I peek over at him, and sure enough. Those emotive baby blues are latched on to me. Practically begging me to come closer. I give Martha a quick smile, and a side hug, murmuring, “Thank you for the pep talk,” before walking away.

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