Fever dream

Текст добавлен: 9 июня 2026, 21:30

Текст книги "Fever dream"

Автор книги: Elsie Silver

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OFFICIAL MEMO

To: Richard Wadsworth

From: Teri Baker

Subject: Production Shutdown

Submitting my final memo for the record to show that Romance Ranch filming has concluded.

The show did not run to completion.

Legal has directed us to destroy all the footage we have collected over the past five weeks.

Despite the less-than-ideal outcome, it has been a pleasure to work on this show with you.

Sincerely,

Teri Baker

Story Producer

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CHAPTER 48

Julia

MY FILM CREW carefully positions themselves to capture every angle of this moment. Nothing’s set in stone, but my gut has never led me wrong when it comes to Emmett.

I stand at the corner of the arena listening to the latest episode of Catherine’s newly funded podcast, Murdery Things, just to distract myself from the nervous energy surging through my veins.

The season has been something of a dream. Richard’s reputation tanked, which forced him out of the business. Last I checked he was working at a men’s clothing store. Emmett and the Brandts got paid once the contract breach was presented to the studio, and the show will never see the light of day. The network folded like origami once Maxwell started peppering them with the laundry list of contractual and workplace standard violations.

I received a glowing recommendation from the network along with payment for the full season.

Even Evelyn made it out okay in the end. She’s currently sailing the Caribbean as a contestant on Close Quarters, the network’s top-rated reality show. Living the dream starting shit on the high seas, no doubt.

The cherry on top? Out of Romance Ranch’s ashes, a fresh opportunity rose and presented itself to me.

A documentary filmmaker reached out, offering me a chance to work on a season-long docuseries following the WBRF riders on the road. As an assistant director.

As Gabriel Silva’s daughter and Theo Silva’s sister, they felt I was uniquely qualified for the job. And I jumped at the opportunity.

It’s not Hollywood or where I want to end up in the long run, but there is something undeniably healing and sentimental about being a part of a show that is so dear to my heart. As driven as I am, I need to savor the journey of getting where I want to go.

And this journey has been unforgettable. Especially because Emmett and I have been inseparable for the past nine months. We’re joined at the hip.

We travel together. We work together, fall asleep together, wake up together. And miraculously, we just keep growing closer. What started as something that could’ve been mistaken for early obsession, or the pressures of the show, or the forbidden aspect of sneaking around has proven to be the seeds that have grown into the vines of a real relationship.

Vines that have grown wild and full, constricting and pulling us closer.

And now it’s the grand finale. This is the moment everyone has been waiting for. Theo’s final ride wasn’t his best. He didn’t last the full eight seconds, and as much as I love my brother, and would never admit it out loud, I was relieved. Theo’s stumble cleared the way for Emmett to win the whole thing.

Anything above ninety points will give him his first WBRF championship and let him retire on the highest of high notes. A career for the record books.

Theo can take it next year.

I watched my brother approach Emmett with a gruff but teasing, “I did that on purpose. Just to give you a shot. Consider it a welcome to the family.”

Emmett grinned at him. “Well, if you’re going to pretend it was on purpose, who am I to argue?” Then he shouldered him—good-natured this time. “As a member of the family or whatever.”

Seeing the two of them shit-talk lovingly warmed my heart, gave me a sense of peace. A sense of knowing.

Because this year is Emmett’s. I want it for him so badly I can taste it. I could barely sleep last night, and he’s been quiet today.

Going no-contact with his dad was harder on him than I expected, but freeing in the best way.

Now he can stand on his own.

Become a WBRF champion, won and earned without Carl’s shadow looming over him. Just Emmett, years of hard work, and all that natural talent.

And of course, he has me by his side.

He’s stuck close, always touching me in that way he does when he’s preoccupied. I know his mind is running a hundred miles a minute, but being near me soothes him.

An hour ago, I held his face, kissed him, and told him I loved him with all my heart.

Then I gave him a little shake and said, “Win this for me, Brandt.”

He’d given me a firm nod and a deep kiss and walked away to warm up.

A man on a mission.

Now I watch the crown of his black cowboy hat bobbing behind the fencing, behind the chute. When he climbs up, my heart stops in my chest. The allure of dating a bull rider has always been lost on me. It never felt especially unique or interesting, but that’s all changed now.

Now I look at him and wish there was something I could do to make this victory happen for him.

Instead, I sit and watch with my stomach in knots and incessant sweat on my palms. He climbs up the fence, looking down over the white-speckled bull he pulled. Smarty Pants. Known for turns and dekes, he supposedly concocts a fairly intelligent plan to fuck you up.

Emmett needs to bring his A game.

His chin tips up, and his eyes scan the crowd. They land on several of our cameras before finding me.

He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t wink. His tongue pops into the side of his cheek, and he tilts his head as if to say, Are you ready?

I grin back at him, saying, Let’s fucking go with my eyes.

We started off communicating with mere looks, and it’s become a more carefully honed skill set over the past several months. We can read each other so well.

With a quick nod, he drops onto the bull, the fringe of his black-and-red chaps flopping down as he seats himself. I’ve been watching him ride all season, and I’ve watched him take some ugly spills. None of them made me as nervous as this moment.

I try not to think about my dad and that this exact moment took him from us.

I’ve convinced myself that it’s a statistical improbability for me to live that story twice. Still, I’ll feel a deep sense of relief when this ride is over, no matter the outcome.

Emmett’s got the eye of the tiger. He’s focused. The cowboys around him speak to him, and I see his lips move, giving them one-word answers. Our cameras are up close, and I’ll be able to review the tape later. But for now, I want to stand back, enjoy the view.

I get to watch the man I love accomplish something he’s dreamed about his entire life, with a front-row seat.

Before I know it, he jerks his chin, and the gate flies open.

My stomach shoots into my throat, and my hand flies to my chest. Every muscle in my body tightens as I look on.

Smarty Pants drops into a vicious spin, jostling Emmett and his rope hand, but his incredible balance kicks in. His core corrects the motion, his heels flipping up to spur the bull harder. The bull jumps and kicks higher as it slams on the brakes and takes a turn in the other direction.

Emmett’s body moves like water over rocks in a creek bed, flowing, adjusting, adapting. Perfectly natural.

And for all the bull riding I’ve watched this season, I find myself admiring this ride especially. It’s not only because he finally found the strength to cut ties with his father and have him banned from WBRF events. I always thought that watching Emmett ride would fill me with overwhelming dread.

Instead, I often find myself in awe of him. At the edge of my seat, yes. But in anticipation.

He oozes talent and skill. He is always artful in his riding style, but there’s something special about this being his last professional ride. It chokes me up.

He’s the man I love, doing the thing he loves with such joy. And it touches me in a completely unexpected way.

I get lost in the moment so intensely that I’m startled by the sound of the buzzer ringing.

He jumps off, but he doesn’t celebrate. He turns to look at the scoreboard, waiting with bated breath for the score to pop up.

The rodeo clowns clear the bull, and Emmett doesn’t move.

He stands there.

My heart beats in time with his. My stomach turns and my chest aches.

The pull to him is so strong.

I know his family is in the stands, but the sight of him standing out there all alone does me in.

Without a second thought, I duck through the fencing and walk toward him, my eyes on the scoreboard, waiting for the number to appear.

My step stutters when it does.

91.5.

A win.

He doesn’t throw his hat or shoot his hands up in the air. The first thing he does is turn and look for me.

And I break out into a run, already halfway there.

I launch myself into his arms, and he catches me, spinning me around.

“You did it. You fucking did it!” I shout into his ear as he squeezes me.

“You told me it was for you, Jules. What choice did I have?”

The crowd fades away as he kisses me soundly. And like so many times before, it doesn’t matter who’s watching.

It’s only ever felt like it’s just the two of us.

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EPILOGUE

Emmett

THIS YEAR, CHRISTMAS is different. I’m not partying on a boat. I’m not on the road for work. I’m not running.

I’m with my family. Although they’ve all gone to bed for the night, Julia and I linger in the warm glow of the farmhouse where I grew up.

The anniversary of my parents’ death is a day I usually hide from. Tonight, I stand in the living room, slow dancing by a crackling fire with the woman of my dreams.

Her arms drape around my neck, mine gripping her waist. We sway wordlessly, and I’m certain that I’m more content than I’ve ever been in my life. More peaceful than I knew possible.

It wasn’t until Julia that I recognized the constant state of anguish that I’d lived with. Every moment, every day. The self-loathing. The feeling of being a burden.

In the past two years, Julia’s steadfast love has all but erased it.

“This was a pretty good Christmas,” she murmurs, hips swinging gently, giving me ideas that are definitely inappropriate for the moment.

“I think it might be one of the best I can remember,” I say, trailing my hand up and down her spine. She’s wearing a baggy, loose-knit sweater that’s all too easy to slip my palm beneath.

“You know, one time,” she murmurs, “when they were filming the show…”

I stiffen. Mentions of filming the show still have that effect on me.

“I slowed down on my way off the property because I could see your oma and opa doing exactly what we’re doing.”

“Foreplay?” I ask with a quirked brow that only gets me a scoff and an eye roll.

“No, dancing. Just like this. The yellow light of the house shone out onto the driveway, and I could mostly just see their silhouettes. But also, the look on your opa’s face. Pure adoration.”

“Doll, that was definitely foreplay.”

She slaps me on the shoulder with a light laugh. “Stop ruining my story by being horny.”

I groan. “I can’t help it. Have you seen yourself? I’m permanently horny when I’m around you. You don’t even need thorns in your ass. It’s boner time, all the time.”

She laughs again, shaking her head in mock exasperation.

“What I’m saying is I love their love.”

“It’s a special one, I agree. One of the best relationships I’ve ever seen.”

Now the weight in my pocket sits heavy and hot as I feel the moment barreling toward what I’ve been planning for some time now.

“I think we could have that. Still slow dancing in our seventies,” I say.

Her head tips up to meet my eyes. “You do?”

“Yeah. In fact, I know we will.”

She smiles, and, fuck, it looks good on her. Her smile makes me weak in the knees.

“There’s only one problem,” I say, watching her expression morph to one of concern.

“What’s that?” she ventures carefully, and I step away, only deepening the frown lines on her forehead.

“The problem is,” I say, dropping to one knee before her, “I need to be married to you to give it my best effort.”

In one easy motion, I slip a hand into my pocket and pull out a perfect emerald-cut diamond, mounted on a dainty, warm yellow-gold band.

Her eyes widen as she stares back at me, blinking, processing. “Jules, will you please put me out of my misery? I know I said I was worried about shackling you to me, but the truth is, I like having you stuck with me. Would you do me the honor of staying that way for the rest of our lives?”

She reaches a trembling hand forward, flexing her slender fingers as I slip the ring onto her hand. She says nothing but watches in awe as her fingers wiggle, the warm light catching every facet of the diamond, making her gasp.

Then she drops to her knees, meeting me on my level, holding my cheeks the way she did that day she told me to go out there and win for her.

“Emmett, there is no one I’d rather be shackled to. Let’s be stuck together forever.”

I grin back at her. “You want to be a Brandt, doll?”

“Forever.” She smiles and kisses me.

And for the first time in my life, I don’t worry about losing her. I don’t feel scared to fall in love.

I feel fucking lucky.

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

SOMETIMES A BOOK feels like coming home, and for me Fever Dream is that book. Or maybe I should say that Emerald Lake is that place. This story and this setting are peppered with so many pieces of me—little nods to real moments in my life—that I can’t help but feel ultra attached to it. From the town to the horse farm, to the nostalgia of a dating show. I keep finding myself daydreaming about these characters, their adventure, and what’s to come for the rest of the Brandt siblings! Fever Dream is only the beginning, and I can’t wait to dive back into this world and share more with you.

As always, publishing a book is only possible with an entire village of love and support, and there are a few people I’d like to salute for supporting me in this process.

First, my husband and son. My boys. My support system. The ones who know when to distract me and when to leave me locked up in my office with a steady stream of snacks and coffee. I love you both to the moon and back.

My assistant, Krista. I don’t know what to say after all these years working together… I’d be a mess without you? You are the “she” to my “nanigans,” or however that saying goes.

My agent, Kimberly Brower. The hardest working woman in showbiz. And my constant source for advice, tough love, and supportive ass pats. Thank you for always having my back.

My editor, Paula Dawn. This is our FOURTEENTH book together. Enough said.

My beta readers, Leticia, Jill, and Catherine. Thank you, thank you, thank you for lending me your brains for this process. Fever Dream would not be the book it is today without your notes.

Aimee Ashcraft, the superstar who reads my absolute roughest draft and helps me find my way when I can’t see the forest for the trees.

Emilia Rhodes, Brittany Lavery, and Anthea Bariamis from Atria Books and Simon & Schuster (and their entire teams!), who worked so lovingly on this manuscript. Thank you all for bringing so much passion and insight to this process. Working with you was an absolute dream and I can’t wait to do it again.

Rebekah West, and the entire crew at Piatkus and Hachette. I’m so thrilled to be working with you all on a brand-new series. Thank you, thank you for believing in me.

A special shout-out to Pam Crawford, who submitted the name Richard Wadsworth in the “Name a Character” contest we ran in my newsletter. This book would simply not be the same without good old Dick Wad! And finally, to my readers. I’m so lucky to have each and every one of you along with me on this incredible journey. Thank you for joining me in Emerald Lake.

I say it with every book, but I’ll say it again: Elsie readers are the best readers.

xo,

Elsie

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More from this Series

Untitled Emerald Lake…

Book 2

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ELSIE SILVER is a #1 New York Times bestselling author of sassy, steamy, small-town romance. She’s a born-and-raised Canadian girl, who loves a good book boyfriend and the strong heroines who bring them to their knees. Her books promise banter, tension, and a slow burn that comes to a screeching halt.

SimonandSchuster.com.au

www.SimonandSchuster.com.au/Authors/Elsie-Silver

@atriabooksaus

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FEVER DREAM

First published in Australia in 2026 by

Atria Books Australia, an imprint of Simon & Schuster (Australia) Pty Limited

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