Did he make her laugh the way I used to? Did he touch her, or God forbid, kiss her? My jaw locks so hard my teeth ache. I don’t need the details. I’ve got enough pictures in my head to keep me up for a month, and I’ve spent the last twelve hours replaying every possible version of their date until I couldn’t stand another second.
Tonight, she’s mine, finally. Sure, we’ll have to shoot, but it will give us a little time without the cameras recording and broadcasting our every word. There won’t be other men circling around her like vultures. It’ll be just Lyssa and me, with my chance to prove to her I’m not the same stubborn bastard who walked away six months ago. I’ll be able to prove to herI’ve learned and I’ll do whatever’s required to be with her permanently. Shit. Love has never been easy to find for the Stone brothers. But this? I thought Slade’s mail-order bride stint was bad; this reality show nonsense takes the cake.
Breakfast is quiet. Too quiet. The other guys are eating pancakes, bacon, and eggs, but the air feels thick, like everyone’s waiting for something to break.
The door opens, and Derek Voss strides in with a clipboard under his arm and a cautious expression I haven’t seen before. He saunters to the head of the table and clears his throat.
“Morning, gentlemen.” His gaze sweeps the space, landing on me last. “I just spoke with Lyssa. There’s been a slight change to the schedule.
My stomach drops. In this game, changes are never small. He turns fully toward me. “Creed, unfortunately, your one-on-one date tonight has to be postponed.”
The words land like a punch to the chin, but I keep my face blank, waiting for him to explain what the hell he just said. “We’ve found our replacement for Marcus. He’s stepping in late in the game, and the producers felt, given the timing, it was only fair to give the viewers an opportunity to meet him immediately, so he’ll be taking your slot tonight.”
Ethan leans forward, fork halfway to his mouth. “When’s he getting here?”
Derek hesitates. Just a beat. But I catch it. “During the shoot.” He glances around the table, lingering on me. “I wanted to provide you all with some time to ease into the new situation. I understand how this can be jarring. More to some than others.” His eyes flick to me again, and I feel the weight of it. Old Derek just pulled a fast one on me.
The rest of breakfast passes in a blur, and all day, the compound buzzes with speculation about the mystery replacement. I stay quiet, chopping more wood behind the lodgeuntil my shoulders scream and my hands blister. Anything to burn off the rage simmering under my skin.
By evening, we’re herded into the main mansion for the shoot. The place glows like a Valentine’s fever dream with hundreds of candles flickering in glass hurricanes paired with red roses along every beam, mantel, and windowsill.
Lyssa sits center stage on a red upholstered chair that resembles a throne. Her curvy legs are crossed, and her long burgundy dress pools on the floor like spilled wine. She looks untouchable and yet so painfully reachable with her green eyes scanning us with that mix of warmth and wariness that’s kept me up more nights than I care to count. Every time her gaze brushes mine, something in my chest twists.
I’m the idiot who let her go and got us into this mess.
The host’s voice rolls dramatically through the hidden speakers, and I realize he’s purposely dragging out the tension for the edit. “Welcome back toBlind Date for Life, where hearts are on the line and the Montana mountains hold no mercy. Tonight, we say a bittersweet goodbye to one of our own. Marcus fought hard, but illness forced him to leave the competition. Lyssa, we know you felt that loss.”
She nods, pressing her lips together in quiet understanding. The camera loves it, and the operator zooms in on her face.
“But the journey continues,” the announcer’s deep tone drops, “and because of that departure, we’re making one small adjustment to tonight’s schedule. Creed Stone’s highly anticipated solo date with Lyssa … has been postponed.”
Even though we got the news earlier, the announcement on camera makes it official. Ethan shoots me a quick, sympathetic glance, and Tyler mutters something under his breath that sounds like “damn.”
Blake leans toward Jake and whispers, “Who the hell gets priority over Creed right now?”
“No idea.” Jake shrugs. “Must be someone big. Producers are playing dirty.”
I don’t move and forget to breathe, feeling the slow burn of rage and disbelief race through my veins. I know Lyssa’s staring at me, searching for an answer. She’s probably worried, but I can’t look at her yet. If I do, I’ll either cross this room, pull her out of here, or punch something. Maybe both.
The MC is giving it his all now, lifting his voice theatrically. “Ladies and gentlemen at home, it’s our privilege to welcome our newest bachelor. He’s black-haired, brown-eyed, six-foot-four, built like he was carved from these very mountains. Strangely enough, he also works as a lineman in a family-run business that keeps the lights on through the worst storms Montana can throw at us. Please meet thirty-year-old Gideon Stone.” The double doors at the back swing open … And my baby brother walks in.
What. The. Actual. Fuck?
He has the same hair color, broad shoulders, and easy gait that screams Stone blood. He’s wearing dark jeans, a black flannel shirt rolled to the elbows, and boots still dusted with fresh snow. No Stetson. He’s never been one for hats, but the smirk is pure family. Brown eyes, darker than mine, sweep the room and land on me for one long, loaded second before finding Lyssa. The entire set erupts.
Ethan’s jaw drops. “No fucking way.”
“That’s his brother?” Ryan mutters.
Lyssa’s hand flies to her mouth. Her eyes are huge as she turns from Gideon to me and back again, with the color draining from her face, and of course, the cameras eat up every dumbfounded reaction.
Gideon stops at the edge of the rose-petal circle with his hands loose at his sides. He respectfully, almost shyly, tips his head to Lyssa and then finds the nerve to look me in the eye.
“Hey, big brother,” he says in a clear voice over the chaos. “Miss me?”
I’m on my feet before I register moving.
Elena’s waving frantically at the crew to keep rolling, and Derek’s grinning as though he just won the lottery. I cross the floor in four strides with my boots thudding like thunder. Gideon doesn’t flinch, and locks on to my stare with that familiar crooked grin tugging at his mouth.
