Will had booked the cabin so I’m not at all surprised that it’s more swanky than it is rustic. We’re along the lake in an area called Naramatta Bench, where vineyards rise up from the lakeshore like verdant forests. The cabin we have is nestled in between a few famous wineries and has its own private beach and a dock with Adirondack chairs and a fire pit at the end. In the fading light, the sky going purple and gold, it’s postcard perfect.
“Ugggh, I want to jump right in,” Jackie says, fanning herself with a magazine she picked up at the store. “Who’s in for a night swim? I think I’m overheating.”
“How about we get settled in first,” Will says, always the sensible one, as he leads us into the cabin.
It’s not huge but it’s new and has everything you need and then some, including a hot tub on the porch. Emmett and I go into one of the bedrooms, not knowing which of the bedrooms is better. It’s always like Russian roulette in places like this. Whoever goes into whatever room first is the one who is stuck with that room, luck of the draw. And in our case, our room only has a twin bed and a bunk bed. Obviously Will and Jackie snatched up the master bedroom of the two.
“Guess we’ll have to snuggle,” Emmett says with a grin as he starts putting his stuff away in the drawers. “We can do that now because we like each other.”
“You’re such a dork,” I tell him. Then I gesture to his unpacking. “And what is this? You’re unpacking? We’re only here for three nights.”
He gives me an odd look. “You’re an office manager, I thought you’d be all about organization.”
“Only in other people’s lives, not my own.”
“Ah yes, I forget you like things a bit messy.”
“I can’t tell if that’s innuendo anymore.”
“Baby, everything with me is innuendo,” he says. “Including having a little snack before dinner.”
He then grabs my arm and pulls me over to the bed, throwing me down on it.
I giggle as I sink into the mattress and he prowls over me. He runs the tip of his finger down the middle of my forehead, over my nose, my lips, my chin, down my neck, all the way to my chest.
“You could at least close the door,” Jackie says and I look over to see her and Will in the doorway, staring at us with absolutely no shame.
“Emmett’s an actor, dear,” Will tells her. “They’re all exhibitionists.” Then he jerks his chin at Emmett. “Help with dinner, will you? Let the girls relax.”
“I was going to help Alyssa relax in my own way,” Emmett tells him, but with a grunt, he rolls off of me and strolls out into the kitchen, adjusting his pants as he goes.
I sigh and get up, following close behind.
“Sorry,” Jackie says, not sounding sorry at all. “Thank god our bedrooms aren’t right next to each other.”
I’m not sure if she’s saying that for my sake or for hers but either way I have to agree.
While Emmett and Will get started on the steaks, Jackie and I scoop up all the materials we need for epic smores and head out down to the dock to start the fire.
“You’re going to ruin your dinner!” Will yells out the window at us.
“You won’t stop me if you know what’s best for you!” Jackie yells back. As she settles into the Adirondack chair, she gives me a triumphant smile. “He knows not to mess with me when it comes to food. I’m not even craving strange things, it’s just that when I do have a craving, I turn into a relentless she-beast until I get it.”
I smile at that as I start up the fire, not exactly sure what I’m doing. Thankfully it catches easily and soon I’m sitting back in the chair across from Jackie and cracking open a tall, cold can of local cider. The sky is now completely dark and clear, a scattering of stars popping out above us.
I look over my shoulder at the cabin and see Will and Emmett inside in the kitchen, drinking beer and laughing about something. My heart does cartwheels inside my chest.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” I ask her, watching as Emmett runs his hand through his beautiful hair. I’m so fucking in love with his face.
“You,” she says emphatically.
“Will’s probably talking about you and the baby,” I point out, turning back around in my seat to face her.
“Nah,” she says with a shrug. “They’re talking about you. There’s a reason that Will asked Emmett to help him in there. He’s been complaining that he hasn’t gotten the chance yet to properly grill him about you. You’ve been hogging up all of his time.”
“Well we both know that’s part of our contract.”
“Ah yes,” she says. “The contract. I still can’t believe that’s an actual thing that happens.”
“I know,” I tell her and open the bag of marshmallows. “Hollywood is so weird. You know, when he was in jail and I had to call his publicist, she said that stuff like this happens all the time.”
“Fake relationships?” she asks.
“Yup. Usually it happens when an actual couple breaks up, if they have to do press together, the publicist will ask them to act like they’re a couple for a long time after. By the time we hear about the break-up, it’s been done and dusted ages before.”
“Do you usually talk to his publicist? How much of a hand does she have in all this?”
“I just called her that night. I didn’t know who else to talk to, what to do.” I pause. “I hate to sound like a jealous, petty bitch but I don’t like her. And it’s not because she’s stunning and gorgeous and successful.”
“No?” Jackie laughs.
“No, well of course yeah. But I can’t figure out what her deal is. And I have a feeling that she and Emmett used to be together.”
“Have you asked him?”
“No,” I say quickly. “I don’t want to be that person.”
“What person? You’re his fake girlfriend, you can say anything, who cares.”
But I do care. Because it makes me sound like the aforementioned jealous, petty bitch. And I have zero real claim to Emmett.
“I don’t know. It’s just…I don’t trust her. I don’t trust her relationship with him, I don’t trust her intentions,” I admit, as I gather up the long metal poker I got for marshmallow toasting.
“But you said it was her idea, this whole stunt.”
“I know, it was. That’s why it’s so weird. Anyway, I guess it doesn’t really matter.”
“Why not?”
“Because eventually the contract will run out and we’ll part ways.”
“Alyssa…you know it doesn’t have to be that way. Stop pretending you don’t have feelings for the man. It’s obvious.”
Ugh. Is it really? I hate that it is.
“Is it obvious to Emmett?”
“I don’t know,” she says with a shrug. “Men are so dense sometimes.”
“Sometimes or always?”
“You know, you could just have an actual conversation with Emmett about all this.”
“I do have conversations with him.”
“I meant about your actual, real relationship. How you feel.”
“Well, that has come up once.”
“And?”
“And I told him he was a player and he owned up to it. He didn’t deny it. I said I didn’t want to have feelings for him because he would just hurt me in the end and he fucking agreed with me!”
She holds out her palm. “Wait. How long ago was this?”
“I don’t know, three weeks ago?”
“And is it possible you both feel differently now than you did a few weeks ago?”
God, yes. Every single feeling I have about him has been driven in deep, embedded into my skin and bones.
“Maybe,” I warily admit.
“And could it be because you brought up the fact that you didn’t want to have feelings for him because of the way you say he is, that he just agreed with you to save face.”
Ah. Shit.
“Maaaaaaaybe.”