Second Chances: A Romance Writers of America Collection (Stark World 2.50)

But this Emmy situation feels like a low blow: bringing in someone I had genuine feelings for and playing it for ratings?

I move past Finn on my crutches, growling inwardly at the realization that nothing would feel better than some hard, physical labor right now. Instead, my options are limited to some rewiring we could do on the fuse box or sitting on the deck with a book while my brothers bust their asses for the camera.

Nodding to one of the crew members that I need my tools, I move inside to the control room and pull up a stool. Guess for the time being I'm the ship's electrician.

Finn and Colt give me a wide berth. I know we'll talk later. I don't know when Emmy comes upstairs to head over to the crew ship, but by the time we push off and into the open water, she's on the Lenny Lou behind us with the crew.

Downstairs that night, it's a good forty-five minutes of eating our dinners in grunting silence before anyone brings it up.

I can tell it's killing Colton, but for once he's keeping his shit together and leaving me alone. Finally, Finn wipes his mouth, puts his napkin on the table, and leans back, looking at me.

"How'd it go?"

I nod, eating another bite of canned green beans before answering. The crew has been waiting all day for this conversation.

"Fine," I say.

Finn nods, too, working to find the best way to do this without putting me on the spot too much

. "She's been working at Mount St. Mary's?"

I take a swig of my beer. "Yeah."

"Weird to see her, I bet," he says, and when I look up at him, his eyes are tight. Fuck. I know that face. He's been instructed to talk it out and hates it nearly as much as I do.

Most of the things we've had to do for this show have been a breeze. Fix up the ship on their dime? No problem! Get more days off and get paid more out on the water? Sure thing! But these social things--the heart of the show, and we know it--really do suck sometimes. Viewers have watched our dad struggle with the health ramifications of a stroke he had over ten years ago; they've watched Harlow and Finn try to find their footing amidst distance and all this insanity. They want the danger and excitement of life out on the ocean, but they want the real parts, too. Unfortunately, the Roberts men aren't really known for being chatty.

"Yeah, it was weird," I say, and fuck it. Might as well lay it all out there. It's not like she'll be around when it airs, anyway. "She's the only girl I ever liked that way, you know? But it's different now when people talk to us."

"Yeah," Finn says.

"And it's one thing if it's Mellie at the bar or Dustin calling to chat after we haven't seen him in seven years." I take another long pull of my beer before finishing my thought. "But to have someone I liked my whole life show up ... just makes it hard to trust."

"Well," Colton says, leaning in, "look at it this way: if she's only around when the cameras are here, then you know."

He's got a point.

"Just let her do her job," Finn says quietly. "The way you look at each other is enough to have Matt and Giles dancing. You don't need to do any more."

Dave grunts, irritated, from behind his camera. That'll have to be cut. But fuck it. I feel about a million times better just having talked it out a little.

Emmy comes aboard the following morning with her little bag and a tentative smile. Goddamnit, she's sweet. I want to be irritated with her being here, but it's just not possible. It's not her fault that we did this show and it's left me paranoid about people's intentions.

Even though I know, yeah, she may be here for the novelty of it, I'm still wary of being alone with her after my huge confession yesterday. So I pull my pants down inside the control room, in plain sight of everyone.

Colt whistles, leaning on the lever that pulls up our biggest net. "Getting indecent up in here."

Emmy blushes but gets to work.

"Still doesn't hurt?" she asks again, feeling around the edge of the bandage.

"No."

"It's not red, so that's a good sign," she says. I can only nod, not sure what more to say.

Her hands are both careful and competent. And while she unwraps the bandage and takes care of me, she fills the space, asking about my brothers and about fishing, never once bringing up what I said.

A week. A whole week with Emmy, every day. At first, it's a little stilted, but how can it be helped? Emmy is there a couple times a day, cleaning me up and then disappearing so the cameras can get all the shirtless filler footage and Levi-Hates-Sitting-Still footage they can handle. When a seine net is dumped on board and some of the fish escape the hold, Colton has one of the extra hands step in and take my place. A line snags on the way in, and I'm not quick enough to get to it before it breaks. But when Finn trips over one of my crutches and insists that surely it's time for Emmy to check my leg again, I lose my temper and throw a roll of electrical tape overboard--much to the delight of our producers who catch it all on film.