I’m here to get a job done. I’m here for my family. And what Julia Silva thinks of me is of little consequence. I force her out of my mind and try to focus on the women who I’m actually here for.
We feed horses. We drive the tractor and grade the driveway. Hell, we even water both the outdoor and indoor arena for Riley.
It’s as the women are wrapping the hose up in the indoor arena that Handsy Evelyn makes a show of wiping her mucky hands off on my T-shirt with a playful giggle.
Dick Wad shares his approval from the sidelines, but it only makes the other women dislike her more.
Still, by the time we wrap up, news of all the chores that were completed has made it to the family group chat. Since having to lay off staff to keep expenses down, it’s impossible not to notice that a lot of ground has been covered around the farm today.
Riley
Are you sure you can’t keep all ten? It would be awfully helpful.
Opa
Fuck no.
Evan
That’s about how many women it would take to hold his attention. A stable’s worth!
Parker
That’s only because he hasn’t met that one special person who can hold his attention all on her own.
Oma
LOL.
I smirk down at the screen. Specifically at Oma’s LOL, which she has recently learned means “laugh out loud,” not “lots of love.”
Emmett
Sorry, Riley, I eliminated all of them. Show’s over. So you are shit out of luck. And everyone else can stop talking 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 than I 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 whole Cookie thing.
She slaps me playfully on the shoulder. “Oh, don’t be silly. Everyone calls me Cookie!”
I wince, but she breezes past it with her bubbly personality. We fall into conversation for several minutes, and I find it stress-free to talk to her. The camera doesn’t bother me as much as usual, and it’s only when Teri tells us that time is up that I register Julia’s presence.
Cookie departs with a quick hug right as Julia steps forward to hand me a bottle of water while the crew jumps into action preparing for the next woman.
Julia seizes the chance to taunt me when she whispers, “Imagine moaning Oh, Cookie.”
I shoot Julia a dirty look as I swipe the water bottle, only for her to close her eyes and make a soft moaning noise. “Yes, Cookie. Just like that, Cookie.”
My lips twitch as I try not to laugh. I shouldn’t laugh. But unfortunately for me, I find Julia Silva to be way funnier than I’d ever admit.
“Yeah, so I love murdery things.” Catherine sits across from me, looking ethereal in her flowing dress.
My brows jump in startled surprise. “Murder?”
“Ha! Like true crime. Podcasts, books, movies. I’m starting my own podcast delving into all the gory details of past cases. Possibly even tackling new ones.”
This woman looks too sweet to be into gory details. Golden hair, a sugary-sweet voice. I find the contrast funny and kind of relatable.
We spend our time talking about serial killers, and strangely I kind of dig it.
“My name is Madeline, but you don’t recognize me, do you?”
The woman with long, straight dark hair and matching thick brows smiles at me flirtatiously.