Fever Dream (Emerald Lake, #1)(69)

“Emmett,” Julia’s usually smooth voice practically hisses. “What are you doing? You need to be in there, dealing with this in front of the cameras.” She steps closer, and I smell her. Patchouli and green grass. “Look at me.”

I don’t want to open my eyes because I know how fucking hot she looks in that stupid denim dress, and the minute I lay eyes on her, I’m going to do something I shouldn’t.

Trouble.

She steps closer, nudging the toe of my boot with her foot. “I don’t know what kind of meltdown you’re having at the moment, but you can snap out of it anytime now. Richard is breathing down my neck. He’s got his eye on you and on me. You do know that, right?”

I swallow, squeezing my eyes shut tighter. Yes, I know all of this.

And none of it matters. Not as much as—

“Emmett! This is what you signed up for.” Her voice cracks, and the sound splinters my chest. I can hear the hurt in her tone. “Your family is depending on you. You need this money. You need—”

My eyes snap open. “Need? You know what I fucking need?”

I don’t give her a chance to respond. My hand shoots out, fingers wrapping around her slender neck as we collide. I swallow her surprised gasp as I take her mouth.

If our first kiss was tentative or careful, this one is chaos. It’s throwing caution to the wind. It’s need and desperation and regret all wrapped up in one rough package.

Her fists twist in my shirt as though she’d like to shove me away, but instead she pulls me closer.

She kisses me back.

Lips working, tongues tangling—we clash. Behind the world’s lamest country bar, under a moonlit sky, I kiss the only girl in the world I actually want.

My free hand slips up the metal buttons of her dress. I cup her breast, thumb the outline of her nipple through the dense material.

She moans into my mouth as her palms slide over my ribs.

A shiver races down my spine at her touch, the reality of her kissing me back. I’ve never felt lucky to be kissed.

Until now.

I count my lucky fucking stars that Julia Silva is even giving me the time of day.

Gripping her hip, I wedge a leg between hers and push her down onto my thigh. A desperate gasp zips between us when the heat of her cunt presses against me.

“You like that?” I murmur against her damp lips.

She peeks back at me from under heavy lids, then grinds herself against me.

That’s all the assurance I need.

I flip us and press her back against the wall. “Your turn is over, Jules. Now we do this the way I want.” I rock my hips just enough to press my leg against her, watching her eyes flutter shut for a beat. “And what I want is to feel you saddle up and ride m—”

“Hey, Emmett? You out here?” Teri calls out into the parking lot, which freezes us in place.

We’re both panting, drugged eyes turning bright and aware in a matter of seconds. My hands don’t move, but my mind is flying a mile a minute.

“Shit.” I can hear the panic in Julia’s whisper. “I’m so fucked.”

I step away, holding my hands up. I don’t know much, but I know I don’t want to be the reason for her demise.

“Go.”

“What?” She straightens, dusting her hands over her dress.

“Around the back. Go. Get out of here.”

I lean in to drop a quick kiss on her forehead and stride away, not wanting Teri to get around the corner and see Julia.

Then I call back, “Be right there!” as I walk straight back into the fire without a second thought. Something that is out of character for me, because I am certainly not known for my selflessness in most circles.

As I walk, I consider the number of times I’ve put someone else’s comfort ahead of my own.

And I realize that outside of my immediate family, I haven’t.

I’ve always rationalized that I suffered quite enough early in life. That now, as an adult, I’m entitled to avoid it at all costs.

Which is weird. Because for her? I’d burn.





CHAPTER 26


Julia


WHEN EMMETT LEAVES, I creep in the opposite direction. I follow the perimeter of the building and decide my best next step.

I’m not required on set tonight since the bar requires no further prep. I delivered the paperwork to Richard, checked in with the manager, and made sure that everything to do with Romance Ranch was in order for filming. I can easily be available by phone.

I’m just rubbernecking at this point.

It’s like I can’t look away. I don’t need to stay and spend hours watching women squabble over a guy that I’ve come to… I don’t even know.

Want? Because wanting him feels surprisingly good. Like fucked-up as this all is, craving someone is breathing life back into parts of me that I thought might be just… gone.

Is like the right word? It feels bland and childish for whatever is happening between us. Which is a problem.

I make a beeline for my car on the opposite side of the parking lot, deciding that getting the hell out of Dodge is the best answer to my problems. Strapped into the driver’s seat, I wrap my hands around the wheel to pull away.

But I come up short of starting the engine. I’m torn between wanting to walk back in there and help Emmett and the sinking sensation in my stomach that tells me I don’t want to see whatever is going on in there.