“Wow,” I breathe, genuinely impressed. “It’s even anatomically correct. Are those little dots supposed to be hair on the ballsack?”
Jada’s shoulders shimmy proudly while Akira’s head flops back on a pillow with an embarrassed groan. “Damn right they are!”
“Want to match, Julia?” Akira asks. “I bet Jada would be happy to give you dick-toes too.”
I snort a laugh as Catherine dissolves into giggles. Akira and Jada grin at each other, and I soak in the moment’s genuine affection.
This quiet show of camaraderie between the remaining women warms my Richard-darkened heart. Because behind allthe manufactured drama, real female friendships are forming. The show can make it appear that these women are pitted against one another, but behind the scenes, they’re painting dicks on toenails and cracking jokes about it.
There’s only one woman missing.
Beyond them, seated at the kitchen island, is Evelyn. Flipping through a magazine. By herself. I catch her watching, longing flickering in her eyes. Until she notices me looking, then she purses her lips and stares back down at the magazine.
For a beat, in spite of everything, I feel sad for Evelyn. That she’s in a position where she can’t let herself enjoy the quieter moments that come with the show. That Richard has her so tightly under his thumb that she feels the need to play the villain even when the cameras aren’t rolling.
It makes me hate him even more.
“Here,” Jada pats the couch, drawing my attention back to them. “Sit down. Matching dick-toes are coming right up.”
I laugh and shake my head. A big part of me wants to be a part of this—I’ve been missing this kind of friendship in my life—but hanging out with the contestants wouldn’t be appropriate. And I’m already crossing boundaries where professionalism is concerned.
“You’re a true artist, Jada. And as tempting as the offer is, I’m just here to check in on everything in the house. Wanted to make sure the set and interior is holding up okay. Anything that needs fixing?”
They all exchange looks and shake their heads. But it’s Akira who makes me preen. “Everything is perfect, Julia. This has been a beautiful place to live. Thank you for all your hard work.”
The other women nod their agreement and I tear up at the approval, potently missing my dad. Wishing he were here so I could tell him what a good job I’m doing. He’d be proud.
With watery eyes, I thank them and take my leave, checking over the rest of the yard while blinking more than is strictly necessary.
Once that’s done, I end up sitting on the love seat swing, rocking gently to soothe myself. I can’t help but remember the day Emmett and I built it together, working quietly side by side.
If I’d known then how I would feel on set, I might not have enjoyed the moment as much as I did. Watching on set has truly become my special way of torturing myself, because I know it needs to be done. Hell, I want Emmett to see this through. I want that final payday for him and his family.
But I also want him. All to myself.
The sudden urge to find him hits me hard. And without thinking, I get up, letting my heart lead my feet down the gravel driveway toward the main barn.
When I round the corner, a truck I don’t recognize is parked along the fence line, hidden from view of the stables and main farmhouse. There are plenty of proper parking stalls, so the sight gives me pause.
Deciding it must be a crew member avoiding taking up a spot, I give in to the real source of my hesitation.
Telling Emmett about the rodeo angle.
I’ve decided to soften the ask by getting his opinion. There are a couple of upcoming rodeos to choose from, and I want his advice before I pick one. I also want to take his temperature about doing this at all.
With a centering breath, I round the corner of the barn, heading toward the front door, when I see Riley already on a horse in the outdoor sand.
I toss her a friendly wave and head toward the ring to say hello. “Up and at ’em, huh?”
She pulls an earbud out and trots to the fence line with a soft “whoa” as she brings the horse to a gentle halt. “Too fucking hotto work the horses unless I start at first light. We leave tonight for several weeks of competition and training in Alberta, so I’m getting their sillies out before a long trailer ride.”
“Exciting stuff. How long will you be gone for?”
She shrugs. “The rest of the summer.”
“Well, in that case, good luck. I’m rooting for you.”
She smiles kindly. Freckles dot her nose and cheeks, where there’s a pink tinge from long days spent in the sun. “Thanks, Jules. You going on another date with Dominic?”
