“Pulling out all the stops on the dance floor, huh? What happened to you not being in charge?” Her tone is teasing as she straightens and slips her other arm over my shoulder.
“I lied.”
“Is that so?” She shakes her head, a teasing smile curving her lips. “James was such a sweet guy compared to you.”
A thrill courses through me. I secretly love when she taunts me. “James, huh?” I lean in closer, my lips almost brushing against the shell of her ear. “Too bad he doesn’t realize a sweet guy would bore you to tears.”
I swear she shivers, a sharp breath slipping past her lips, though she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she turns her head toward me, her mouth mere inches from mine.
“I guess I’ll find out when I take Riley up on the blind date she offered to set up for me. She described him as a sweet guy, too.”
My heart thunders in my ears as she steals another sip of my drink. We dance for another song. And then another. We move comfortably together, taking in our surroundings but never drifting away from each other even as one song bleeds into the next.
Not talking, just being. Well, actually, my brain is stuck on the word sweet. I’m basically stewing over it.
Finally, after a fourth song, I blurt, “Is sweet what you’re after?”
“What?” She blinks, confused by my random question after being silent for so long.
“In a guy.”
“Oh. Well…” She bites down on her bottom lip as she considers. “Haven’t been out with a guy in over two years, so it’s hard to say for sure what I like nowadays.”
Alarm bells ring in my head as I draw back ever so slightly. I know exactly what that timeline means.
Yet, she’s here. With me. Taking sips of my drink, fingers toying with the hair at the back of my neck.
“What do you call this then?” I ask, sounding more desperate than I intended.
She swallows. “Work.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
I tilt my head, regarding her as I slowly turn us in a circle. I shoot straight. “Why, if you haven’t been out with a guy or had a drink at a bar in over two years, are you here doing both those things with me?”
I drop my mouth close to hers, considering throwing caution to the wind and kissing her. Swallowing whatever smartass joke she’s no doubt about to launch.
But she meets my offense and steps closer, hips bumping against mine, face tipping up to hold my gaze. “Because that night terrified me.” Her voice comes out as a whisper, but I listen raptly, catching every word of her confession. “Now, every time I meet a man, I wonder, ‘What would you do to me if you knew I’d never remember?’ I’ve accepted it’s impossible to know the answer, so I have to be willing to take that leap of faith. I guess I’m still working up the courage.”
A protective growl rumbles in my throat. It guts me that she’s still carrying this around. Bending her entire life around it.
She gives me a thin smile, eyes dropping to my mouth for a beat before lifting to meet my gaze. “The real kicker is that you, Emmett Brandt, might be the only man in the world I’d trust not to take advantage of me, even at my most vulnerable. So, I guess the reason I haven’t been out with anyone else is because none of them are you.”
A sharp pain hits me in the chest as her words land like arrows in the heart. She laughs it off, but there’s no humor in the sound.
None of them are you.
“Jules,” I whisper as I drink her in. The way she’s looking at me? The sentiment?
It all leaves me shaken.
In my life, I have been wanted. I have been fought over. Hell, I’ve been hated. But I don’t know if I’ve ever been admired for my morals. Put on a pedestal. Revered as inherently good.
Not like this. Not by someone like her. And it fucking terrifies me. I’m a good man underneath all my faults, but I’m also really good at letting women down, so this admission is all new. It makes my heart race, and my skin go hot. My entire body feels like it’s vibrating—energized by the way she sees me.
But my brain? My brain is freaking out. On one hand, everything feels so fucking right. On the other… this is the path I swore I would never go down. And the level of responsibility that comes with being this person for her feels like a heavy burden to bear.
“Listen,” I say, drawing away slightly. I need some breathing room between us before I push her away. It will make it easier on me, keep me from yanking her in and kissing her senseless.
But when I straighten, my gaze catches on a new group of people pulling up stools at the bar. People I recognize immediately because they are the day crew for Romance Ranch. Out for drinks after a long day of work.
My alarm must register because Julia turns to see what’s caught my attention. Within moments, she puts the pieces together and steps away from me, cheeks flushed.
Her lips part as though she’s about to say something, but before she can, I attempt to ease the discomfort flickering in her eyes. “We should go. There’s a back exit,” I say, trying to ignore the way she winces before nodding her agreement. “I just don’t want to—”
“Definitely,” she says, voice squeaking as she turns and walks away from me without another word.
I follow her down the darkened hallway into the stillness of the just-fallen night. She gets into my truck before I can open the door and lift her in. I don’t look at her thighs, and she barely glances at me when I slide into the driver’s seat.
Clearly the reality check of almost having been caught out together is a rude awakening for us both.
“Well, it’s a great spot. I can see why you’d want to take the girls there,” she says, keeping her tone bright while completely avoiding addressing the tension between us. “I’ll write up a brief for Richard and reach out to management about filming.”
I nod, silent, because the first words on the tip of my tongue are: I don’t want to bring anyone else there.
She fills the space with chatter about spots to set cameras, having taken more stock of the space than I realized.
It forces my brain to face the reality of our situation. Her budding career, my contract, all that money for the farm.
I drive through the streets of Emerald Lake, listening but not really hearing. Because in my head I’m still on that dance floor. Her arms around my neck, her hips pressed against mine, her confession hanging heavy and heartfelt between us.
When we get back to her condo, she scoots out of my truck fast. She offers me a parting wave, and a forced “Thanks for the drink!” before scurrying back into her building.
In any other situation like this, I’d feel like I dodged a bullet. But tonight, it feels like I took one square in the chest.
Guilt racks me because I should have said something. She poured her heart out to me, and I took the easy way out. Letting the moment slip through my fingers like the finest grains of sand.
And for once it wasn’t because a woman was telling me things I didn’t want to hear.
It was exactly what I wanted to hear.
And that terrifies me.