Fever Dream (Emerald Lake, #1)(101)
At my house, bloodied knees, coming inside, then leaving later.
In her car with me outside the diner.
At The Sugar Saloon with me.
Us at the Cactus Club, where she went on her date.
But most troubling of all is the photo of us inside my house.
The angle is from the front door and captures the main entryway. It’s the morning after Catherine helped sneak her in. The photo itself is innocuous enough; she’s only slipping on her shoes at the front closet. But there’s no window for a camera to catch it. Which means there is one inside my cottage. Something I know I didn’t give them permission for.
“So you see,” Richard says, cutting into the shocked silence that hangs between us. “I could easily ruin her career. She was hired to manage locations, not your cock. Yet here she is, and here you are—the star of my show, finding love with a crew member instead of where you’re paid to.” He pauses for effect, dragging the cursor over Julia’s face, underlining the proof. “I’d hate to use this. I’d hate to enforce the part of the contract where you agreed not to see anyone publicly.”
My molars grind and my cheeks sizzle. The threat is obvious, and it does nothing but make me feel trapped. Helpless.
“But now I’ve got photos of you out at a bar. So the moral of the story here, Emmett, is that you’re going to behave yourself. You have one week of the show left, and I want some fucking drama. I’ve had to get artful to keep this from being a total snoozefest. Because you’ve let me down.”
I hate him.
“But this week you will not let me down. You’re going to bring all the angst and all the PG-13 rated sexual activity that you can. Because I’m producing a fucking dating show here. I’m after ratings, not a medal for morality.”
“Are you blackmailing me?”
He brushes past my question. “You’ve got your day off tomorrow to think about it. Make the smart choice, Emmett. It’s only one week. In one week, you get paid, and young Julia gets the career she’s always wanted. She’ll move on, work her way up in Hollywood, like her cover letter expressed that she’s always dreamed of. You’ll be but a blip on the radar for her.”
I try not to wince, but Richard reads me too well. He homes in on every worry in my brain like they’re written out on my forehead.
“You can go back to whatever country-bumpkin shit you do while keeping your fucking mouth shut to fulfill your contractual obligations. No public dating for a year, remember?”
He waves a hand through the air with a dismissive flick, and I swallow.
“Who am I kidding? You’re desperate for this cash. Of course you remember. So you’ll do your press with the winner next year when this all airs. Play nice for the cameras. And then you and I never have to fucking talk to each other again. Have I made myself clear?”
I nod, wooden, my eyes still fixed on the screen.
“Good. Now get out of my office.”
I blink a few times before I turn to depart, thoroughly shaken. I don’t know what to think.
All I know is I want to be at Julia’s house, wrapped in her arms, tangled in her bedsheets. Because if I do what Richard wants to save her career and honor my contract, tonight may be the last night I spend with Julia Silva.
CHAPTER 41
Julia
EMMETT HAS BEEN relentless all night, waking me up in the wee hours to reach for me again. Constantly touching me, kissing me. I love every moment, but there’s something desperate about the way he takes me.
It’s full of longing and reverence.
And something that feels an awful lot like love.
Even now, in the morning, as we’re having our coffee on the couch, he pulls me to him. “I’m skipping chores this morning. Not ready to leave.”
Because Jada’s unexpected departure messed with projected timelines and other schedules, the cast and crew were given an extra day off from filming this weekend, which means Emmett and I don’t need to be on set today.
“Okay,” I reply as I straddle his lap and look him over with concern.
I’m about to ask him what’s going on when he kisses me and makes me lose my train of thought. Without a word, he flicks off the straps of my tank top, pulling my shirt down below my breasts. He gazes at them as if he’ll never see them again.
We kiss and touch, but we barely talk. And before I know it, his sweats are shoved down, my shorts are pulled to the side, and he’s inside me. Again.
Our morning is lazy and hums along in a companionable quiet. He seems lost in his head, and I try not to prod him about it, knowing that this show has been a heavier burden than he ever expected it to be. But even his reserved mood can’t ruin the glow of this morning.
The feelings still lingering from last night, the safety I feel in his presence, it’s as satisfying as the sex.
But we both know it can’t be an all-day thing because Theo is picking me up for my mom’s birthday lunch today. He booked a table with a view at one of her favorite wineries for all of us. Afterward, we’re driving into the boonies to hit up the drive-in theater. Theo arranged for one of the movies playing tonight to be her all-time favorite movie, The Princess Bride.
I have half an hour to get ready after I accompany Emmett on his way out. I find myself wedged under Emmett’s arm as we descend in the elevator. We exit, and eager for any last seconds that I can stay in contact with him, I head out of the building pressed against his side, my arm wrapped around his waist.