Fever Dream (Emerald Lake, #1)(3)
So basically, everyone in my family is working overtime to either make this place run or cement our family’s legacy. Except for me.
I’m off riding bulls. Something my dad, Carl Bush, has been pulling me away to do for years now. It started off as a way to spite my family and turned into the career I can’t envision my life without. I win my fair share of events as a professional now and have landed some nice sponsorship deals. I keep funneling my winnings into the farm. But it’s just never enough.
They need more money and more help. I wish I could provide both. But I haven’t figured out how yet. Which means the guilt of being on the road almost constantly from November through May eats me alive.
It’s my hope that being here for the summer and adding a nice windfall of cash to the farm’s accounts will be the help they need to keep it all going. It could be the thing that helps Riley make it to the Olympics. Hell, I’d settle for it meaning they can just take a few days off here and there.
“I think it’s very sweet of you, Emmett,” Parker says with a firm nod.
My lips twitch as I turn to watch her. She looks as though she’s weighed the merits of my plan and can see them clearly—her moral compass always points due north. Over the years she has undeniably identified herself as the middle child in this family. My sister is introspective, doting, and softhearted—if not a little on the chilly side. She’s also the family mediator. The one I’d go to for rational, tough-but-fair advice. If my plan makes sense to Parker, then it just plain makes sense.
“Is this one of those shows where you have to marry the girl at the end?” Opa’s gruff voice fills the glassed-in dining area. “Because I’m not sure I like that idea for you.”
“No. I don’t have to marry anyone. Just choose a winner.”
“What do they win?” Evan asks in a clearly mocking tone.
“Me? I guess?”
“You’re going to give them all participation trophies though, right?” Parker quips.
“Yeah, and by participation trophies she means dick—”
“Evan! For crying out loud. You’re like a wild animal that’s made it inside for the first time,” Oma scolds him, and I shoot him a mocking smirk.
“Are they going to be in the way?” Opa pipes up. “I don’t need a bunch of frilly city girls making more work for me than this place already is.”
Oma squeezes my hand as I turn my attention to him. “No, we’ll use the empty bunkhouse down the old driveway. Get it cleaned up. If we need to use the facilities here, I’ll make sure we get you a schedule. I’ll be in my log cottage over on that back quarter, so the farmhouse and stables stay clear of the crew. They told me they’re hiring a location consultant and that person will be in charge of choosing our spots for filming on the farm and elsewhere in the valley. I’m certain I can get you a meeting with them.”
He nods at that, satisfied with my explanation.
“And, Opa, if you don’t want me to do this, I will back out. Or tell them the farm isn’t available. But I just know ten grand a day for thirty days will do a lot of good for this place.”
For the second time today, I swear you could hear a pin drop.
And then… “Ten grand a day!” my grandparents exclaim in unison.
Based on their reaction, I should have led with that part. “Yes, that’s the fee they’re offering you for the rental. My payment is on top of that. And it’s something I plan to put back into the farm as well. It could secure us for years to come.”
My grandparents stare back at me through misty eyes.
“You officially have my blessing,” Opa grumbles in his typical fashion.
Another firm squeeze on my hand, but this one lasts longer. Oma grips me, her touch saying more than her words ever could.
“Only if this is something you are truly comfortable with,” she says carefully. Though I can tell by the expression on their faces that this is more money than they can reasonably turn down.
“I’m comfortable with it,” I assure them, forcing my mind not to wander down the path of how fucking embarrassing this will be and how much flack I’ll get once the guys on tour find out. Never mind what Carl will have to say about it. I definitely don’t want him catching wind of this until it’s all over.
But for my family? None of that matters.
“I’ve got the WBRF finals coming up. I need to kick Theo Silva’s Goody Two-shoes ass, and then I’ll be back. Even with the show, I plan to work in the morning and film in the afternoons.” I straighten as I say it. I’m nothing if not competitive, and I’ve got my eye on the prize this year. I know my days of professional riding are numbered. And I have every intention of going out with a bang.
“I have total faith in you, Em. If I think about it, you’ll excel in this role,” Riley muses while plucking a piece of crispy bacon off the serving plate and popping it into her mouth. “You’re a hard worker and you bring a lot of experience to the table when it comes to eliminating women from your love life.”
Not even Parker can hold back her giggle at that jab. It’s not a secret among us that I’m a commitmentphobe who constantly opts for the most casual, least attached option I can find.
“True.” Evan points at her. “But what I can’t wait for is watching him have to make conversation with them, pretending he’s interested. Or wine and dine them. Ooh!” His finger shoots up in the air. “Or meet their parents.”