Текст книги "Fever dream"

Автор книги: Elsie Silver

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

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A thrill courses through me. I secretly love when she taunts me. “James, huh?” I lean in closer, my lips almost brushing against the shell of her ear. “Too bad he doesn’t realize a sweet guy would bore you to tears.”

I swear she shivers, a sharp breath slipping past her lips, though she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she turns her head toward me, her mouth mere inches from mine.

“I guess I’ll find out when I take Riley up on the blind date she offered to set up for me. She described him as a sweet guy, too.”

My heart thunders in my ears as she steals another sip of my drink. We dance for another song. And then another. We move comfortably together, taking in our surroundings but never drifting away from each other even as one song bleeds into the next.

Not talking, just being. Well, actually, my brain is stuck on the word sweet. I’m basically stewing over it.

Finally, after a fourth song, I blurt, “Is sweet what you’re after?”

“What?” She blinks, confused by my random question after being silent for so long.

“In a guy.”

“Oh. Well…” She bites down on her bottom lip as she considers. “Haven’t been out with a guy in over two years, so it’s hard to say for sure what I like nowadays.”

Alarm bells ring in my head as I draw back ever so slightly. I know exactly what that timeline means.

Yet, she’s here. With me. Taking sips of my drink, fingers toying with the hair at the back of my neck.

“What do you call this then?” I ask, sounding more desperate than I intended.

She swallows. “Work.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

I tilt my head, regarding her as I slowly turn us in a circle. I shoot straight. “Why, if you haven’t been out with a guy or had a drink at a bar in over two years, are you here doing both those things with me?”

I drop my mouth close to hers, considering throwing caution to the wind and kissing her. Swallowing whatever smartass joke she’s no doubt about to launch.

But she meets my offense and steps closer, hips bumping against mine, face tipping up to hold my gaze. “Because that night terrified me.” Her voice comes out as a whisper, but I listen raptly, catching every word of her confession. “Now, every time I meet a man, I wonder, ‘What would you do to me if you knew I’d never remember?’ I’ve accepted it’s impossible to know the answer, so I have to be willing to take that leap of faith. I guess I’m still working up the courage.”

A protective growl rumbles in my throat. It guts me that she’s still carrying this around. Bending her entire life around it.

She gives me a thin smile, eyes dropping to my mouth for a beat before lifting to meet my gaze. “The real kicker is that you, Emmett Brandt, might be the only man in the world I’d trust not to take advantage of me, even at my most vulnerable. So, I guess the reason I haven’t been out with anyone else is because none of them are you.”

A sharp pain hits me in the chest as her words land like arrows in the heart. She laughs it off, but there’s no humor in the sound.

None of them are you.

“Jules,” I whisper as I drink her in. The way she’s looking at me? The sentiment?

It all leaves me shaken.

In my life, I have been wanted. I have been fought over. Hell, I’ve been hated. But I don’t know if I’ve ever been admired for my morals. Put on a pedestal. Revered as inherently good.

Not like this. Not by someone like her. And it fucking terrifies me. I’m a good man underneath all my faults, but I’m also really good at letting women down, so this admission is all new. It makes my heart race, and my skin go hot. My entire body feels like it’s vibrating—energized by the way she sees me.

But my brain? My brain is freaking out. On one hand, everything feels so fucking right. On the other… this is the path I swore I would never go down. And the level of responsibility that comes with being this person for her feels like a heavy burden to bear.

“Listen,” I say, drawing away slightly. I need some breathing room between us before I push her away. It will make it easier on me, keep me from yanking her in and kissing her senseless.

But when I straighten, my gaze catches on a new group of people pulling up stools at the bar. People I recognize immediately because they are the day crew for Romance Ranch. Out for drinks after a long day of work.

My alarm must register because Julia turns to see what’s caught my attention. Within moments, she puts the pieces together and steps away from me, cheeks flushed.

Her lips part as though she’s about to say something, but before she can, I attempt to ease the discomfort flickering in her eyes. “We should go. There’s a back exit,” I say, trying to ignore the way she winces before nodding her agreement. “I just don’t want to—”

“Definitely,” she says, voice squeaking as she turns and walks away from me without another word.

I follow her down the darkened hallway into the stillness of the just-fallen night. She gets into my truck before I can open the door and lift her in. I don’t look at her thighs, and she barely glances at me when I slide into the driver’s seat.

Clearly the reality check of almost having been caught out together is a rude awakening for us both.

“Well, it’s a great spot. I can see why you’d want to take the girls there,” she says, keeping her tone bright while completely avoiding addressing the tension between us. “I’ll write up a brief for Richard and reach out to management about filming.”

I nod, silent, because the first words on the tip of my tongue are: I don’t want to bring anyone else there.

She fills the space with chatter about spots to set cameras, having taken more stock of the space than I realized.

It forces my brain to face the reality of our situation. Her budding career, my contract, all that money for the farm.

I drive through the streets of Emerald Lake, listening but not really hearing. Because in my head I’m still on that dance floor. Her arms around my neck, her hips pressed against mine, her confession hanging heavy and heartfelt between us.

When we get back to her condo, she scoots out of my truck fast. She offers me a parting wave, and a forced “Thanks for the drink!” before scurrying back into her building.

In any other situation like this, I’d feel like I dodged a bullet. But tonight, it feels like I took one square in the chest.

Guilt racks me because I should have said something. She poured her heart out to me, and I took the easy way out. Letting the moment slip through my fingers like the finest grains of sand.

And for once it wasn’t because a woman was telling me things I didn’t want to hear.

It was exactly what I wanted to hear.

And that terrifies me.

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CHAPTER 23

Julia

Emmett

Hey, are you around today?

Emmett

What about today? I need to talk to you about the bar.

Emmett

Jules. Stop avoiding me.

“Honestly, Julia, you can’t just go rogue like this. It’s unprofessional,” Richard scolds me.

My mouth gapes as I stare back at him, his harsh delivery rendering me speechless. But more than that, I am just plain confused by the fact that Emmett has changed his answer regarding which bar we should film at.

I’ve been ignoring Emmett’s texts in the name of professionalism—we have nothing to talk about. We almost got busted out together and that was enough to scare me straight.

But today he’s going to get a fucking earful of unprofessionalism. Because I have things to say.

If his wishy-washy bullshit costs me that reference, I’ll kill him before he gets to pick a wife.

Dick Wad sits at his desk in the utility trailer, shuffling paper. He isn’t furious, but he’s definitely talking to me like I’m an idiot. Sunlight streams through the open door, highlighting his coiffed hair and pale eyes.

All I know is that I don’t want to be added to his blacklist.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself, or are you just going to stand there gaping at me?”

I snap my mouth shut. “Sorry, I just… this was the bar that…”

Emmett took me to?

How do I explain this to my boss without getting one of us in trouble? Because as much as Emmett’s deer-in-the-headlights reaction to my confession on that ancient dance floor after a couple sips of liquor rankles me, I don’t want to get him in trouble with the boss.

There’s too much on the line for him and his family, and I can’t let my pride get in the way of that.

I straighten and stare back at the older man, refusing to cower. “You told me to find a good country bar. Someone recommended it to me.”

“Well, how about more due diligence next time? When I showed Emmett the pitch for this scene, he said he’d never take the girls there. It looks like a fucking dive. And I need Casanova on board because he’s proving to be a frigid pain in my ass.”

My molars clamp together as I let myself daydream about pushing Emmett down the slopes of Prickle Point.

Because why the hell is he changing his pick for a bar and throwing me under the bus like this?

“Yes, sir, of course. I apologize.” I bite the words out, but Richard doesn’t seem to notice or care about the edge to my tone. He’s too busy… filing his nails?

My nose wrinkles as I realize the file is what he was looking for among the sheets on his desk. Fine white powder scatters over the papers, and I cringe.

The guy has no fucking boundaries.

“Good. Now you can put all that fancy education to use today and fix this. I want to record at The Ranch on Saturday for the elimination ceremony. It looks like the perfect place to give viewers a taste of country life with our bull rider playboy.”

I bite my tongue and focus on not exploding or running from this trailer in horror.

“So chop-chop, make it so.” He claps his hands at me, a puff of nail dust catching in the light.

“I know you didn’t just clap your hands at her.” Emmett’s deep voice booms behind us. The trailer shifts as he steps up into the doorway, blocking the light with the bulk of his broad shoulders.

Richard laughs. I stand frozen, willing myself not to turn around. Because if I do, I might kick Emmett in his shins for throwing me under Dick Wad’s shitty bus for some unknown reason.

Part of me also doesn’t want to face him. I’ve been dodging him for the past few days because I turned into a sappy loser in his arms, and he just stared at me like I was a dodo bird come back from extinction.

It’s been easy enough to steer clear of the set or show up in the mornings when I knew he was busy. The rest of the time, I buried myself in emails, application forms, and prep work. Plus, according to today’s schedule, Emmett should have been busy showing the women how to mend fences around the property.

Thrilling.

“Ah, if it isn’t our very own cowboy Romeo! Ready to spin some girls around the dance floor on Saturday?”

“I’d rather go back to talking about—”

“How you’re going to be thinking about the women I’ve carefully selected for you and not the help?” Richard’s eyes narrow over my shoulder, his persona slipping from carefree to venomous.

My stomach flips, and my throat burns. I feel like a kid caught doing something they shouldn’t, and nothing has even happened.

Still, I need to cover for us, so I scoff and shoot a dirty look over my shoulder, the first attention I’ve given Emmett in almost forty-eight hours. “I can assure you that Emmett doesn’t think about me.”

“Well, obviously. You’re no Evelyn.” Richard spreads his hands in a gesture that implies he’s settled this conversation. “Now, both of you get out. I need to make some phone calls.”

I give him a firm nod and spin on my heel to depart the trailer. I turn my body to edge past Emmett, careful to avoid all contact with him. Which includes keeping my eyes trained on the metal steps that lead down to the grass.

“Jules,” he hisses, his heavy footsteps following me across the pasture where the crew has set up.

I don’t look back.

“Jules, wait.”

“Sorry! I’m busy!” I call back, sounding as unaffected as I can. Really, all I want is to go to the gym, put my headphones in, work out some aggression, and go home. Maybe have a pity party while I fertilize my plants because I hate dropping the ball at work. And I’m not in the mood to unpack whatever transpired between Emmett and me.

I round the back of an equipment trailer. Hoping Emmett will give up if I weave through the trucks where the crew likes to find a sliver of shade, flip open a lawn chair, and kick back with a drink.

But I’m shit out of luck, because as I turn, a hand clamps down on my arm, pulling me to a screeching halt. Forcing me to turn and face him. Stubbled jaw clenched tight, curls mussed after a morning spent pounding fence posts, eyes brimming with concern.

“Are you okay?”

I yank my arm out of his grip and step back, spitting the word back in his face. “Am I okay?”

He pops his tongue into his cheek, regarding me through narrowed eyes.

“You tell me, Emmett. How am I supposed to be after you went behind my back and told my boss that I scouted the wrong bar?”

He says nothing, which aggravates me even further.

“You are infuriating. You know that?”

“You weren’t on set yesterday.”

That’s his response?

“No shit. I was busy wasting hours prepping that location. And you told Richard that you’d never take the girls there?” I step closer, poking him in the center of his chest. “You made me look bad at my job. And I’m not. That might be the worst part.”

“You are very good at your job,” he confirms, voice stern and sincere.

His agreeing with me just angers me more. “That’s what you have to say for yourself? Not an apology? Am I supposed to pretend that you didn’t just pull a one-eighty on me and demand we film at the The Ranch? Should I stumble all over myself to cater to your ever-changing whims? Because I’ve got news for you—”

He strikes like a cobra, capturing my wrist as he steps in to tower over me, pinning me against the back of the trailer. His heat sears the front of me, and the sun-warmed metal wall presses at my back.

“What do I have to say for myself?” he says harshly. His breath fans across my damp lips and frustration buzzes in the air around us.

But it doesn’t worry me. I’m safe with Emmett, even now. Even when I’m fuming and he’s seething.

“What I have to say for myself, Julia, is that I told you this already.”

Oh, the nerve.

“Told me what? Because the way I remember it is…” I slip into a mocking tone. “ ‘The Ranch? No, that bar is where all the yuppies go. It’s not where I’d take someone I was actually interested in.’ Then you took me to the Sugar Saloon and led me to believe that—”

“Exactly!” He spits the word like it frustrates him. I’m taken aback by the venom in his tone, but even more so by what he means. “How can I go there with anyone else after… you.”

I shut up and blink at him, piecing it all together.

His blue irises burn hot, boring into me with an intensity I’ve only seen on his face when there’s a bull underneath him and a championship on the line.

My chest heaves against his, our bodies pressed together. My hands stay slack at my sides, but not Emmett’s. His free hand slides up my hip, leaving a trail of fire as it travels up my rib cage, over my airy, pale pink blouse, skimming the edge of my bra. Making my head spin and my skin heat.

His touch turns reverent as his palm slides over my sternum, achingly slow. His brows furrow in concentration as he stares at his hand, fingers splayed over my collarbone, my chest rising and falling beneath him.

And then he sighs. “You’re ruining me, Jules.”

His gaze flashes to mine, threads of confusion in the depths of his baby blues morphing into something that looks like resolve.

“Emmett,” I breathe. His gentle touch makes me momentarily forget why I’m angry with him.

Strong fingers go soft on my wrist, and one quick swipe of his thumb over my pulse point sets my heart to racing as quickly as my mind. He grazes the back of his knuckles up my arm before tracing the curve of my neck.

“Fuck,” he mutters with a subtle shake of his head.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, barely hearing myself over the sound of blood rushing in my ears.

He trails both hands up to cup my jaw, then he tips my head back, forcing me to look into his eyes. “What I should have done on that dance floor.”

Emmett’s mouth drops, and this time he doesn’t stop. His lips crush mine in a moment of pure desperation.

Right here, outdoors, on set. With birds chirping and crew chatting in the distance, Emmett kisses me, and every other protest in my mind disintegrates on the spot.

A shaky inhale reverberates between us.

We both pause, drawing away just enough to look at each other in shock. I almost wonder if he’s going to pull away.

“Em,” I breathe against his lips, which is all it takes for him to kiss me again.

My hands fist the sides of his shirt without hesitation as I lean into his strong body.

And then, there’s only him.

Firm lips, soft tongue, calloused fingers so damn gentle as he holds me in place. His fingers slip into my hair as he claims my mouth with a level of prowess that rocks me to my core.

Everything around us ceases to exist, every point of contact between us like a hot brand. And I’m frantic for more of him.

I press in, only knowing that I want to be closer. Knowing that every part of me is warm and safe wrapped in his arms.

My tongue meets his in a slow, intentional dance. He kisses me thoroughly. He doesn’t rush, but he’s not casual either. He kisses me with purpose.

My body hums. My hands roam. Chiseled abs, broad chest, muscled shoulders. But Emmett doesn’t take any liberties with me. He controls the pace, kissing me like his life depends on it—like it’s a lost art form.

I haven’t been kissed like this in… ever.

Eventually we slow, the fervor ebbs, and we both surface for air. Our foreheads tip together as we catch our breath. I try to make sense of how I went from dressing him down to this.

Emmett presses a quick kiss to the edge of my mouth and pulls me in, my head resting near his shoulder. He runs a hand over my straightened hair and gives me a quick, disbelieving hug. Seconds pass as my mind struggles to keep up.

How can I go there with anyone else after you?

My chest twinges, the weight of his confession sitting wonderfully heavy.

“I’m glad we cleared that up,” his deep voice rumbles in my ear.

Then he exhales hard and steps back, looking wide-eyed and startled by what just transpired. “I should get back to set.”

I nod dumbly. “Yeah. You should.”

Because what else is there to say? Thank you? Have fun dating seven other women? Go save your family farm?

Never mind my red minidress.

This is trouble.

No, this is a fucking mess.

And I’d still do it again.

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OFFICIAL MEMO

To: Richard Wadsworth

From: Teri Baker

Subject: Strategic Leak

Hearing reports from some of the crew that they spotted our Emmett dancing at a local bar with our location manager, Julia. Of course, it could be entirely innocent since we know she was scouting the location.

I’d rather not accuse anyone in case it’s nothing. But I noted in my last memo that I’d be keeping an eye on this for you, so I wanted to bring it to your attention.

I don’t think I can address it directly with him and maintain his trust. He already knows he’s not supposed to be dating outside the show.

Wondering if a strategic leak might be beneficial in reminding him that he’s being watched. Especially heading toward the midpoint when he’s set to receive another payment.

Perhaps you should speak with Julia—I bet you can help steer her away from this.

Prepared to follow your lead here.

Sincerely,

Teri Baker

Story Producer

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CHAPTER 24

Julia

A RINGTONE BLARES THROUGH my car speakers.

Oh, good. Dick Wad is calling me.

I contemplate not answering. I’m almost at my mom’s house and desperately need some serious distraction from the show and from Emmett.

But I also don’t want to get on my boss’s bad side. And he has a lot of them. So with much self-loathing, I reach forward and tap the green circle to answer.

“Hello?” I singsong.

“Julia, it’s Richard.”

“Hi, Richard. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to have a quick chat with you about something.”

My stomach sinks, and I wonder if he knows about the kiss. Maybe he’s calling to fire me.

“Great. I’m all ears,” I say, trying to sound keen, but not too keen. Just regular levels of professional but eager.

“I can tell that Emmett has formed a certain… attachment to you. Would you agree?”

My heart thuds in my chest. “Like I mentioned already, I don’t know that I would take it that far.”

“You’re a reasonably attractive young woman, and as far as I can tell, single.”

In a panic, I blurt something I’m not even sure about yet. “Actually, his sister set me up with someone so…”

“Ah!” Richard sounds thrilled. “That’s good. We can’t have him going after the help. Make sure you let me know how that goes, hmm? I want to hear all the dirty details.”

My nose wrinkles. This man has the worst way with words, and I immediately regret saying that only to keep him off my trail. “Right. So what’s up?”

“I need your help keeping our bachelor on track. Maybe some gentle nudges when he comes to you. Evelyn is fantastic in front of the camera, so anything you can do to lead him in that direction will only earn you brownie points. And you’re going to have all the permits for the bar ready, right?”

My stomach falls hard and fast as I nod along with my boss. “Yeah. Sure. For sure,” I say, even though I don’t think I’m equipped to play this role. “The permits are close to being finalized, just need a signature from one of the owners and we’ll be good to go.”

“Great! Glad we had this chat. You have fun on that date! I’ll be checking in with you for an update.”

“Thanks,” I say awkwardly.

“Oh, and Julia?”

“Yes?”

“Keep up the good work. I’m working on that letter of reference, and I can’t wait to see what doors it opens for you.”

He hangs up without saying goodbye. Instead, he leaves me with what sounded an awful lot like a threat.

And it has me wondering if Richard isn’t only producing Emmett. Because that felt an awful lot like he’s producing me too.

I walk up to the front door of my mom’s house and can already hear the chatter coming from inside.

Theo, Winter, and the kids are here for a visit, and with it being my day off, I decided to show up bright and early so we could spend the entire day together. It also gives me something to do while I wait for the bar owner to get back to me about meeting up. I need to get that signature or my ass is grass. But I will not worry about it. Everything always works out. I will drive all night to meet him if that’s what it takes.

I take a deep breath, turn the knob, and push into the space, trying not to perseverate on last night.

On Emmett.

On that kiss.

God knows I’ve already lost enough sleep staying up and replaying it in my head like a song stuck on repeat. It’s unhealthy to be this fixated on what was just a kiss.

I kick off my sandals, sporting a casual pair of cutoffs and a burnout University of Emerald Lake T-shirt.

“Hey, Mom!” I shout. “Hi, Winter! Hi, babies. Auntie Jules is here!”

Despite my clear greeting order, it’s Theo who rounds the corner first. He grins at me with that signature twinkle in his eye and spring in his step.

“What about me?” he quips, feigning offense.

I stop my forward motion, marveling at how good he looks. Happy. It warms my heart, but it doesn’t stop me from greeting him like a typical sibling. “Hey, asshole, good to see you too.”

Theo laughs and tsks me as he strides forward and wraps me in a brotherly bear hug. “Careful, Jules,” he rumbles as he squeezes me and pulls back, gripping my shoulders. “There’s only one asshole here, and I fear it is not me.”

From back in the kitchen, my mom calls out, “Sorry, Jules, I would greet you, but I’m covered in grandbabies!”

Winter’s laugh follows. “Sorry, Jules, I would greet you, but I’m enjoying just sitting here with nobody touching me. And Theo made me promise not to interfere.”

That comment sets me on edge, and I look back toward my brother with a quirked brow.

“That’s right, Jules,” he says. “You’re the asshole because you failed to mention to me that the bachelor you’re working with is Emmett Bush.”

I freeze for a beat, because where the hell did he get that information? I force an expression of confusion onto my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Theo throws his head back and laughs. A full belly laugh. The kind of laugh that tells me he’s laughing more at me than with me. “Nice try, little sis. The jig’s up, though. Emmett’s face and new job on Romance Ranch”—he waves a sarcastic hand through the air—“was plastered all over the internet this morning.”

My throat constricts as I process the news my brother has just dropped on me.

“I can’t believe you lied to me about this.” He looks thrilled.

I clear my throat and let out a heavy sigh. “I’m under an NDA, Theo. I can’t run around telling you things like this.”

“But this?” He runs his hands through his dark, short-cropped hair. “Jules, this is too good. This is… I would have signed an NDA just for the satisfaction of knowing that Emmett Bush is so fucking desperate that he signed up for a reality dating show.”

“Brandt.” It slips out without me even thinking.

Theo’s head tips. “What?”

“You said Bush.” I shrug, trying to appear more casual than I feel, since all I can think about is how distraught Emmett must be right now. “It’s like a ring name. His real name is Emmett Brandt.”

“Bush, Brandt, whatever. My day is fucking made, Jules. Get in here. Let’s have a coffee. I want to hear all about it.”

My brother practically skips into the kitchen, where Winter and my mother are seated around the oval-shaped table. My almost three-year-old niece, Vivienne, is perched on my mom’s knee while she holds baby Harvey with her free arm. As a midwife, my mom is alarmingly comfortable juggling small children. She does it with a level of confidence that I don’t have, so I opt to give each child a turn.

“Hello, Miss Vivi,” I say, crouching down and opening my arms. She squeals in excitement and hops off my mom’s knee, rushing toward me. I pick her up and spin her around, peppering her pudgy cheeks and tiny ears with quick, silly kisses. It draws manic giggles from her that leave me smiling into her neck.

Then I pull back and look her over. It’s like holding a tiny female version of my brother. Dead ringer. I don’t know where Winter was when this baby was made, because her genes were not in the room.

“How’s my sweet girl?”

“Hiii,” she squeals before planting her hands on my cheeks and landing a loud kiss on my face.

“You gotta stop growing like this, kid. Soon you’re going to be taller than me.”

She laughs and wiggles enough that I put her down before she takes off running again.

Winter watches her with a somewhat tired expression on her face. “I swear that kid doesn’t stop moving. She’s excited all the time. Happy all the time. She’s practically the eighth wonder of the world.”

Theo scoffs at that from where he’s leaned up against the counter watching us. “Why wouldn’t she be happy? Life is good.”

Winter and I look at him at the same time, and I almost laugh, thinking back on Emmett’s assessment of my brother. Too fucking happy. I smile and turn back to my mom, holding a sleeping baby Harvey in her arms.

“Hello, little man,” I say softly, crouching close to run my hand over the silky spray of his blond tresses. This one? This one, Winter’s genes were in the room for, because he’s a dead ringer for his mom.

“Do you want to hold him?” my mom asks.

I shake my head. “Nah, he’s asleep. He looks comfy. Hold your grandbaby, Mama.”

“Yeah,” Theo pipes up, moving to the table and pulling a chair out. “Jules is about to be very busy telling us all about Emmett being Romance Ranch’s bachelor. Because I’ve been waiting all morning for this.”

I sigh and stare at my brother before ignoring the seat he’s pulled out for me and walking over to Winter. She stands and we hug.

And like always, it’s not a big, boisterous hug. But it’s tight, firm. There’s something heartfelt in the way Winter hugs. It’s like she’s never gotten enough of them, so she soaks each one up with more intentionality than most people.

“Julia,” she says smoothly, looking me over. “You look…” Her head tilts, light eyes assessing me carefully. “Hmm, I don’t know. You look different.”

“Probably the weight of carrying around such juicy secrets is taking its toll on her,” Theo suggests with a chuckle.

“No, it’s because she’s not staying up all night studying now. She’s got a big girl job,” our mom announces proudly.

Vivi has moved on to a set of magnetic blocks that I can tell my mom had set up in the living room for her earlier, but everyone else’s focus is on me.

“Maybe—” I start only to be cut off by Theo.

“Yeah, a big girl job that she’s going to sit down and tell us all about right now. Jules, let me get you a coffee. You still take it black?”

“Yes.”

Within seconds, Theo slides a steaming cup of coffee in front of where I sit, before taking his own chair. He props his chin in his hand. “Tell me everything.”

“I still can’t believe you won’t tell me anything. Like anything, anything,” Theo laments as we walk through Emerald Lake’s bustling historic district. It’s home to many bars and restaurants, coffee shops, small boutiques, and the town’s best ice cream shop.

The Old Country Creamery. A name we thought sounded charming when we were younger but has grown to sound, well, gross as we’ve gotten older.

But that doesn’t stop us from going, because their ice cream is the best. And it’s the place I’ve paid my way through university by working at—the place I still get a discount at.

Our group stops at the small courtyard in front, practically diving to claim the only free table. Mom and Winter plant themselves there with the kids as Theo and I turn to make our way inside to order.

Theo opens the front door for me, and I’m about to step into the store when I run smack dab into a hard, warm chest. Strong hands encircle my upper arms to keep me from taking a tumble.

“Shit, sorry!” I say before I’ve had a chance to see who I’ve crashed into. And when I do, I’m met with the face that kept me up all night.