Page 61 of The Love Rematch
“Castle?” Emily asks.
“You’ll see,” Nina responds evasively.
“I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”
Jake and Nina grin at each other. He slips his producer hat back on, remembering who he is and what he’s supposed to be doing there. The group date is a medieval tournament, complete with jousting, sword fights, and good old-fashioned wrestling. Oh, and did he mention costumes? Medieval knights wore tights under their armor, and the women wore corsets plus about five layers of underwear. It’s going to be fucking glorious.
“Guys?” Emily glances between them.
Jake offers her a wink, unable to stop himself, then backs slowly away. Nina slinks into her open doorway.
“Guys? Guys!”
“See you in a few hours,” he calls before disappearing into his hotel room. As the door closes, he presses his eye to the peephole, needing one more glance. Alone in the hallway, Emily frowns and crosses her arms. Then she rolls her eyes, throws her hands in the air, and vanishes inside her room.
He keeps watching for a few more seconds, imagining her there.
This is the difference. The guys only get the carefully curated Hollywood version of her, but Jake gets the real Emily, frustration and all. It’s enough for now, to keep him from losing his mind. But with every day—and every date—that distinction slowly fades. By hometowns, by dream suites, by the final two, it might be gone entirely.
He doesn’t know what he’ll do then.
But today, he gets to stand on the sideline in his best suit while eight of her suitors get dressed in tights and armor and make complete fools of themselves. Today, he gave Emily an authentic memory to remember. Today, he won.
I’ll take it.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
emily
Corsets are the WORSTTTTT.
Emily tugs at the strings crisscrossing her abdomen, hardly able to breathe. She’s sitting on an uncomfortable wooden “throne,” hair styled in an almost comical number of ringlets, with about ten pounds of skirts holding her in place. The men are lined up below, attempting to ride horses across a medieval arena and knock over a wooden dummy with a lance. It would be pretty funny, if not for one thing. The man in the suit standing directly across from her.
Dammit. Why does he look so good?
Emily can’t stop from going back to that moment outside her hotel room. Jake standing before her, his dark hair swooping over his hooded eyes, his jaw set, his body hard. Her hands still tingled from the feel of his skin. Her cheeks still ached from so much smiling. It was so easy to fall back into old habits, so easy to spend a morning by his side. Just thinking about the hungry look in his eyes made her pulse race. He’d been about one second from ripping her clothes off. She’d been about one second from letting him.
What would have happened if Nina hadn’t stepped outside?
Nothing, she tries to reassure herself.
Yet in the back of her mind, she can’t help but hear Sam’s reprimanding voice.What the HELL happened to revenge?
What the hell, indeed.
Emily was supposed to make him hurt, to make him pay. Pining over him wasnotpart of the deal. Unless, of course, that was Jake’s intention all along. Not to make amends. Not to apologize. Not to extend a peace offering from a stranger, as he put it. But to suck her back into his orbit.
Shit.
Jake meets her gaze across the field, as if he can sense his presence in her thoughts. The corner of his lip twitches with a suppressed grin. Suddenly, the morning takes on a new sheen. Sure, he wanted to take her to the crown jewels because he knew she would love it. But he also wanted this moment, right here, with her gaze on him instead of the suitors and her thoughts on their time together instead of on the group date. The trick with the phone had left her thinking of him all night, and now he wanted her thinking of him all day too.
Shit, she thinks again.
A prepaid phone, a few bags of candy, some albeit insanely gorgeous jewels, and she’s putty in his hands?Blech!She never even put up a fight.
Get your head in the game, Peters.
Emily stands.
