Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
elena
“Ihope you don’t mind if Isaac joins us for dinner,” Ivy says while her husband flags down our waitress to put in his brother’s order.
The Stillery smells like whiskey, fried pickles, and cedarwood. Someone’s covering Kacey Musgraves’ Space Cowboy on the acoustic stage.
“Of course not. We, um, had tacos together recently.” My heart stammers in my chest, excited and nervous all at once. “After the storm.”
And insanely hot sex.
Ivy arches a brow. “After that big move he made during the scene blocking, I figured he’d ask you out, but Elena—”
“I know,” I break in, hoping she can’t see the truth burning all over my face. “He’s just a good time guy and it’s against the rules. It was just dinner.”
Lying to this sweet woman who is also kind of my boss makes me nauseated. It seems like every emotion makes me sick to my stomach lately—probably why I usually avoid them.
I’m contemplating bailing on dinner entirely until the moment he steps through the door.
The cowboy hat, the gleaming eyes. Those thick, tan, muscular forearms peeking out from rolled up flannel sleeves. All of it moves toward us purposefully and I forget how to breathe.
“Hey there, spitfire,” he greets me with a wink. Then nods to his sister-in-law. “City girl.”
Ivy and Wyatt are on the other side of the booth leaving only the space beside me for him to slide into. Making my breathing shallower so I don’t inhale his scent and lose my mind in front of everyone, I scoot over to the wall to give him as much room as possible.
“Hope I’m not crashing your party.” He eyes me briefly, but I ignore him, continuing a conversation with Ivy about filming.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” she says as Isaac and his brother begin speaking in low voices to one another about an aging neighbor.
I set my drink down, silently praying she’s not going to ask me how many times her brother-in-law has made me come. I’ve lost count.
“What’s up?”
She pulls out her phone and scrolls for a second before flipping the screen to face me.
“This is a rewrite I added between your character and the ranch foreman.” She hands me the phone and I peruse it quickly, smiling at the tender fatherly moments on screen. “It’s just a quiet moment where they’re cooking together. I wanted to let some of your heritage shine through.”
I blink, caught off guard by how sincere this woman is. Previously my experiences with screenwriters haven’t been great.
“He’s cutting onions,” she goes on, “and you’re making fun of him while teaching him how to make your abuela’s arroz rojo.”
I let out a quiet laugh. “That’s dangerously close to a sacred staple.”
“I know,” she says softly, her hazel eyes wide.
“That’s why I’m asking. I don’t want to screw this up, Elena.
I don’t want to just use your background as flavor—I want to respect it.
Honor it. Because most shows still toe a fine line with stereotypes, and the last thing I want to do is add anything that disrespects your culture. ”
Her words land low and warm in my chest. “I appreciate that. Very much. And I appreciate you allowing my input. That isn’t always the case. The last set I was on, no one wanted my opinion.”
“I found my family on this ranch,” she says softly. “I didn’t have much of one before. And I wanted to give your character a chance to bond with everyone the way I did, but I want to make sure it’s in the right way.”
I press my lips together and nod slowly, a lump forming in my throat.
“The fact that you care either way means a lot,” I tell her.
“And I know you’re not the type that will ever be part of the problem.
I’m extremely grateful to have been brought on to this project and I know you fought for me.
This scene looks great to me.” I hand her the phone back.
“If you ever have input on any scenes or dialogue, or if there’s a change you think fits better—please feel free to speak up. This isn’t about me getting it right on my own. It’s about all of us on this project getting it right together.”
I smile, and it feels a little shaky around the edges.
I get it so much right now, how this woman found a home here.
Next to Isaac in this booth, having dinner together, it feels like…
family. In a way my family never has. My family dinners were typically shrouded in judgment, disappointment, and tension.
My father wanted a son, he’d hoped for several sons, and my mother wanted, well, anyone but me.
Our food arrives and just as we dig in, Ivy smiles up at me again. “I meant to ask, are you excited to go home during the break between training camp and filming? Any big plans?”
My insides deflate. I try not to let it show. “Um, actually, I was going to talk to you and Wyatt about that.”
I chew the inside of my cheek and glance at where Isaac and Wyatt are cutting into steaks while continuing their conversation about an older rancher they’re concerned about.
Ivy waits. I move the grilled chicken and vegetables around on my plate. My appetite has been weird lately. I’m either aggressively hungry or grossed out by food entirely. Probably nerves from filming and the secret forbidden workplace affair I didn’t mean to have.
“So, I’m thinking I’d like to stay in town during the break. Get a feel for the area and stay in character.”
She tilts her head, nodding gently. “Yeah, okay. Works for me if you’re sure.”
I nod. “I’m sure. I wasn’t sure if it was okay to remain in the cabin or if I needed to grab a hotel room or rent—”
“Laurel Logan would lose her mind if you stayed somewhere else,” Ivy informs me. “The cabin is one hundred percent yours as long as you like.”
I exhale in relief just as Isaac’s hand lands casually on my inner thigh, causing me to suck in a breath. Glancing over, I see he’s still deep in conversation with Wyatt. But when I go to move his hand, he gives me a little squeeze.
Ivy doesn’t seem to notice and continues chatting while eating chicken alfredo that looks amazing. I should’ve ordered that instead.
“This might be the least subtle segue ever, but me, Willow, and Sutton have a girls’ night at the end of the month.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Yeah. Junk food, bad movies, and highly competitive games of Spoons and Uno. You should come.”
I laugh. “Highly competitive Uno?”
“I’m legally obligated to tell you Willow once flipped a table. So… prepare yourself.”
A warmth spreads through my chest, unexpected but welcome. The kind that makes my shoulders loosen and my pulse settle.
“Okay,” I say. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Ivy grins and raises her glass. “To arroz rojo, women supporting women, and violently competitive card games.”
“?Salud!,” I say, clinking my wine glass against hers.
“What are we celebrating,” Isaac asks as he and Wyatt tune back in. I could swear I just heard them say something about putting a go-pro on Jasper, who I think is a donkey.
“Girls’ night,” Ivy answers. “Elena is going to hang out on the ranch during the two-week hiatus between camp and filming. So, she’s joining us for girls’ night this month.”
Wyatt smirks. “I hope she warned you about Willow.”
I grin back. “She did, in fact. I honestly want to know more about this Willow. Eli limps around like a wounded puppy after training with her in the mornings.”
Wyatt shakes his head. “That poor guy. Inflicting Willow on him was just mean.” He glances at Ivy. “The fact that he hasn’t run screaming is a miracle.”
Isaac smirks. “I think he’s got some big feelings for her.”
Wyatt frowns. “Really? Surely by now he’s realized that she’s…” he inhales deeply, and everyone falls silent.
I wait for him to finish his sentence, curious about what Willow could be that would make her immune to the irrefutable charm of Eli James.
But the broody rancher says nothing.
I can’t take the suspense. “What? What is she?”
There are very few heterosexual women with a pulse on this planet who wouldn’t want to go out with Eli.
I probably would’ve been more interested myself if I hadn’t gotten derailed, and well, actually railed, by the cocky cowboy sitting next to me.
The one currently teasing the edge of my panties with his pinky finger.
Ivy nibbles her lower lip. “Willow had a bad past relationship. Like, worse than mine. She doesn’t really date or go out much.”
Isaac stiffens beside me. “Asshole she dated in high school did a real number on her and he did it publicly,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Eli James is definitely not her speed,” Wyatt offers. “No offense,” he says to me, before adding, “but dating someone in the public eye would be her worst nightmare.”
“I get it,” I admit. “Dating became a lot harder once I got actual roles and I’m nowhere near the realm of fame that Eli is. His following is insane. I wouldn’t want those women coming after me online.”
Though I suspect they might when this show airs.
Ironically, it’s that moment that Eli James and Willow come into view as they step through the door of the bar.
Isaac makes a chuffing sound. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
As if we conjured them with our words, they grab a private corner table and hunker down with menus.
Ivy waves and they wave back but neither of them makes a move to head our way.
There’s a definite familiarity between them and I can’t help but wonder, not for the first time, if people can see the same dynamic between Isaac and me.
The four of us exchange glances, then Isaac laughs. “He told me this morning that he’s staying in town during the break as well—for additional training with Willow. I told him I suspected he was a glutton for punishment. Turns out I was right.”
“First time for everything,” Wyatt deadpans.
Ivy watches Willow and Eli for a moment then I feel her gaze on Isaac and me as we eat. Or maybe I’m paranoid.
“Wonders never cease, I suppose,” she says quietly.
Isaac gives my thigh another squeeze under the table.
Boy, isn’t that the truth.