Emmett
Sorry, Riley, I eliminated all of them. Show’s over. So you are shit out of luck. And everyone else can stoptalking about me like I’m not here, too.
Oma
We know you are here and we are sending
lots of love! LOL.
That forces a chuckle out of me as I shove my phone back into my pocket. And then my eyes seek out Julia among the crew.
Julia, who makes a point of staring back at me before looking at my crotch again with a knowing smirk tipping her lips.
I decide I’ve had enough of her mocking glances, so I give the crew a friendly wave before dropping my mask of a fake smile and marching over to Julia. I don’t meet her eyes as I move past, but my hand shoots out, gripping her wrist and dragging her along with me. Straight out of the indoor arena and into the adjoining barn.
I haul her around the corner and down the L-shaped hall into the tack room. As soon as I click the door shut behind us, I step back, away from her.
“Why the hell have you been staring at my dick all day?” I spit out.
She chuckles, standing tall and propping her hands on her hips. Something I’ve noticed she does a lot. A protective stance, possibly making her look more casual than she feels. Or she just needs something to do with her hands. That’s often why I cross my arms.
“For science, Brandt.”
I startle for a beat. I wasn’t expecting her to swap so seamlessly into using my preferred name. It’s more familiar thanI like, and yet, I have no one to blame for that except myself and a moment of honest weakness.
My brows furrow. “Science?”
“Yeah. Don’t you remember? You told me that you’d get a boner for any woman bent over in front of you.”
I groan and tip my face up to the ceiling, regretting saying that all over again. Because I should have known Julia wouldn’t let it go. That she’d take it and run like a dog with a bone.
“But in a fascinating turn of events, I stood and watched you bend five different women over, and the front of those jeans didn’t bulge any more than usual.” She winks at me, and my jaw goes slack.
Which does nothing but draw an amused giggle from her. “So basically, the results of the experiment tell me that you, Emmett Brandt, are a big fat boner liar.” Her tone gleeful as she steps toward me and pats my shoulder. “It’s okay. This secret is safe with me too.”
I sit stiffly, preparing myself to crank up the charisma for the cameras.
After the first week of filming, I’m due for one-on-one time with a few of the women, according to production. The plan is for them to be led out to the love seat around the side of the bunkhouse, where Julia has staged an idyllic set for interviews. One by one, they’ll take a seat beside me, and we’ll have a supergenuine conversation in front of the camera.
Earlier today, they had me select a couple of daters for this segment. Richard picked a couple, too, because why wouldn’t he?
Teri leads the first woman out. My gaze lands on Cookie, and I’m kind of relieved, because she’s proven to be one of the most laid-back women in the group.
She’s freshened up since doing farm chores and is sporting wedge sandals and a pink-patterned halter dress that falls midthigh. A day in the sun has added a flush to her full cheeks, and there’s a happy bounce in her step as she approaches.
“All right, we’ve got Cookie here first.” Teri gives me a thumbs-up and backs away, drawing her fingers upward over her lips in a silent suggestion that I smile.
I force my lips up and say, “So tell me, because I’ve been dying to know… is your name actually Cookie?”
It’s awkward as hell, but to her credit, Cookie lets out a boisterous, genuine laugh that sets me at ease. “Yeah. I get that a lot. I love to bake, so my dad started calling me that, and it stuck.”
My lips twitch, because that’s actually kind of endearing, and Cookie has an easy, sunny way about her that I appreciate. Still, I’m not ready to use that term of endearment.
“So what’s your real name?”
“Kayla.”
“Can I call you Kayla?” I ask, because I don’t know if I can keep a straight face with the wholeCookiething.
