“Emmett, Emmett, Emmett!” She twists around, fighting me off—but not really. It’s almost as though she’s reveling in the feeling. The bliss, the attention, the thrill. And I am too. When I finally see a tear streak from the corner of her eye, I stop and kiss it away before withdrawing.
“How is that? Is it better being tickled to death than fucked to death?”
“No.” She laughs the word. “Being fucked to death is officially one of my favorite things to do now. In fact, I’d like to do it again, but I need to eat.”
It’s Sunday morning, which means I know exactly what to do with her. I push up out of bed before lifting her over my shoulder in a farmer carry that sets her back to squealing.
Then I land a firm slap on her ass and walk us both to the bathroom. “Can’t have my girl going hungry,” I murmur, nipping at her neck again as I back her into the shower. “Let’s wash you up before I take you to the farmhouse for a chaotic Brandt family breakfast.”
With Catherine’s help, Julia escapes through the back door, headed to where she parked her car at the base of Prickle Point. At the front door, I have a quick chat with Catherine. She puts on a hell of a show, admitting that she feels like I pay more attention to Evelyn than her. She points out that it’s unfair Evelyn’s had more one-on-one dates when she and I clearly have such a deep connection.
We’re both smiling as we talk, but it’s not because what either of us is saying is true. It’s because we’re both in on the joke.
I kind of admire the way this woman can tell a bald-faced lie while wearing a frilly pink dress and sporting perfectly curled blond hair.
I assure her that we’ll have plenty of time together and that she doesn’t need to worry about Evelyn because, yes, our connection is just that strong.
She grins like a loon as I usher her down the stairs and send her back to the driveway toward the bunkhouse. I head to my car and drive the short distance to Oma and Opa’s house where I find Julia already waiting, propped against her car, nibbling at her lower lip. She looks nervous, even a little uncomfortable, and I hate to see it, especially when the farmhouse is a safe space.
So, I step out of my truck, walk straight toward her, and wrap her in a hug. I cup her head against my chest and stroke her hair, kissing the crown of her head before admitting, “I missed you.”
She laughs against my chest. “That’s ridiculous. We’ve been apart for fifteen minutes.”
“Yep, fifteen minutes too long,” I reply matter-of-factly, before reaching for her hand and pulling her into my childhood home.
OceanofPDF.com
OceanofPDF.com
CHAPTER 38
Julia
“THEN THIS WILL be a nice opportunity for you and Evelyn to release some… tension,” Teri says suggestively.
Me? My eyes water under the strain of not rolling them.
I’m standing with the crew around me, facing the love seat that Emmett and I built. Teri’s back is to me, and Emmett faces her. Which means I can see every expression that plays on his face.
He’s being interviewed before the next date. Evelyn’s turn comes after him, followed by a couple’s massage in front of the cameras.
One of the largest spare rooms in the bunkhouse has been transformed with two simple massage tables, crisp white sheets tucked tightly against the mattresses. Candles flicker on the chair rail, and vases of red roses adorn the dresser behind them. A playlist called Romantic Jazz filters from the speaker in the corner.
I know, because I set up this date for them. And while I should be uncomfortable about the whole thing—I’m not.
Partially, because I feel incredibly invested in Emmett succeeding. I adore his family, and I want to save this farm almost as much as he does.
And partially, because I’ve slowly been allowing myself to believe that this thing between us is real. That we have a shot once we get clear of this sham of a show. And it’s so close to being over.
“So tell us, Emmett,” Teri starts, tapping her tablet and flicking through questions. They want to get as much footage as possible before they make this date look more suggestive than it will be. “Do you think you’ve found love on Romance Ranch? Or a connection that feels intense enough that it might be love?”
Lame.
“Yeah, Teri. I have.”
My head snaps up, following the warm, deep rumble of his voice to the love seat.
Where I find his gaze fixed on me.
“Have what?”
“Found love,” he clarifies, all so that they clip together these bits and make him sound like he’s saying something he’s not.
“Exciting,” Teri coos, leaning forward as though he’s sharing a secret with her and not recording publicly in front of tens of people. “Can you tell us what that feels like for you?”
His eyes don’t leave mine, not even for a second.
“It’s terrifying. Consuming. Unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.”
The air feels too hot. My clothes feel too tight. I glance around me to check if anyone else is picking up on what’s happening here.
He smiles at Teri, finally freeing me from the grip of his stare.
“This is a big step for a guy like you. Going from playing the field so notoriously to thinking you might have met the one. How can you be so sure?”
The one.
He grins, features softening. “Sometimes you just know.”
His eyes dart to mine for a beat before Teri exclaims, “Perfect! We can use all of this. Thanks, Emmett. Take ten while I talk to Evelyn then the two of you can go enjoy yourselves. And maybe even enjoy each other.”
I keep it cool while I watch him behave himself in front of the camera. He graciously thanks Teri for her time and says he’ll be back in ten. Shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of workout shorts slung low enough to reveal the two sharp lines slicing up from his hips, he’s impossible to ignore. Even the producer isn’t above letting her eyes linger just a little too long.
He doesn’t look at me as he passes back toward the bunkhouse. The good humor from that interview has evaporated from his features, and it feels as though he’s avoiding even looking at me after what he just did.
What he just said.
I feel jittery knowing I have to wait until much later tonight to corner him about this.
“Julia?” Ben whispers from beside me as he adjusts the film in his camera. “Can you double-check that we have all the equipment we need in the house? I don’t want Dick Wad to chew my ass out for holding up recording when this is all going so well.”
I bite my tongue and offer him a bright smile. “Of course.”
I’m always a keen, hard worker on set so my agreeing to this isn’t out of the ordinary. But right now, I’m only agreeing because it means I can follow Emmett into the bunkhouse.
I turn, striding across the grass to the front stone patio, past the archway and wine barrel planters, up to the front door.
Catherine is getting her own massages off-site, so the bunkhouse is empty for filming. It was a simpler solution than getting permits and working around a schedule for a spa.
With a deep breath, I push the screen door open and step inside. I’m greeted by the open living space, vaulted ceilings, and Emmett.
Emmett twisting the cap off a water bottle. Tendons in his arms flexing. Veins in his hand bulging. Agitation lining his every movement.
And then his eyes find mine, searing me to the spot.
“What did that water bottle ever do to you?”
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he takes a long swig of water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he continues to stare at me.
When he pulls the bottle down, he drags the back of his hand over his mouth, and it reminds me of the way he looks up at me from between my thighs.
