The Real Thing (Sugar Lake Book 1)

by Melissa Foster

  Louie tugged off his mask. “I have a mouth, Grandpa! It’s just a mask.”

  Bridgette covered Willow’s hand with hers and spoke quietly. “All I can tell you is that I knew Jerry was right for me from the very first time we met. It didn’t matter that he was in a band and everyone knew what kind of guy he was. Nothing would have kept me from marrying him, because I knew we were right, regardless of what happened before we met. Musicians and actors aren’t that far apart where their endgames are concerned. Jerry used to say, ‘A player will play while he’s searching for his soul mate, and then they’re all in.’ Remember how I compared myself to all of his female fans at first? It was hard. Like, really excruciatingly hard when he was on the road, but one look in his eyes and I was toast.”

  “What is it about their eyes? I’m the same way with Zane. He does this thing . . .” She lowered her chin and looked at Bridgette through her lashes.

  Bridgette laughed. “I hope he does it better than that. You look a little insane.”

  “You always make me feel better. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth right away, but everything happened so fast.” She moved closer so there was no chance of anyone else hearing and said, “You cannot tell anyone that the engagement is fake.”

  “I never would.” Bridgette hugged her. “I think there’s a lot more to this. He could have just asked an actress to play the part, but he went to all that trouble to get you to do it. That says something.”

  “Yeah, that I’m an easy mark.” Even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true. She’d compared every man to Zane for so long, and now she had the only man she’d ever wanted. But she was terrified of handing over her heart, afraid to believe what would make her the happiest woman in the world could really be coming true.

  “Since when are you a pessimist? You’re the chosen one. That’s how I see it.”

  Their mother breezed into the kitchen and kissed the top of each of their heads. “Are you girls going to chat all day? The rest of the kids are going to be here in ten minutes.”

  “Come on.” Bridgette pushed to her feet.

  “Where’s that man of yours?” their father asked on his way out to the yard.

  “He’ll be here soon.” Willow glanced at her phone. It had been hours since Zane had left to pick up the rental car. She wondered where he’d gotten held up.

  More than an hour later, ten little boys and girls were taking turns swinging a bat at the Spider-Man piñata, and Willow was chowing down on her second piece of cake.

  “It’s pretty bad when your fiancé stands you up.” Piper stood beside Willow, stealing pieces of Willow’s cake off her plate. “But it’s even worse when he stands you up at your nephew’s birthday party.”

  “Thanks for pointing that out,” Willow snarled. It wasn’t like she hadn’t already run through the gamut of possible reasons why Zane was late. She chose to ignore the worst of them—a pretty fan catching his attention—and went with what was clearly less likely but more palatable: he’d gotten locked in a gas station bathroom and had no way out.

  “Well, he is Zane,” Piper said.

  “Yes. My fiancé,” Willow reminded her, feeling oddly proprietary of him. “So please tread carefully, okay, sis? This is an emotional time for all of us.”

  “Mm-hm. I’m sure he just got caught up with fans or something.”

  Let’s hope not. “I know you don’t trust him.”

  Piper tucked her stick-straight shoulder-length blond hair behind her ear and crossed her lithe arms. “It’s not that I don’t trust him, per se. It’s just always bothered me that he used to lead you on. I worried you’d hook up with him and get your heart broken. I’m so glad you weren’t that stupid.”

  Willow watched Louie swing at the piñata, hoping Piper couldn’t read the truth in her eyes. “What are you talking about? He never led me on.”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t try to pretend you weren’t completely in love with him when you were a kid. He was always right there when you were baking, and asking you for help with math? He was two grades ahead of you. That was sort of ridiculous, don’t you think?”

  She decided to ignore the first accusation, because how many lies could one woman be expected to maintain in one day? “He was a kid who loved cookies. And I kicked ass in math.” Could he have been flirting with her back then and not really lame in precalc? She didn’t have a clear enough head to figure that out at the moment, and the truth was, she had been a tall, gangly girl with big boobs and an uncanny ability to work with numbers, while Zane could have had his pick of the most popular, beautiful girls. “But let’s say that was true and he really did flirt with me. Shouldn’t you be happy for us now?”

  “Maybe,” Piper said cheerily. Then her expression turned serious. “If I hadn’t seen pictures of him with no less than three women in the last two months.”

  “That was all part of our plan to cover things up.” Willow hoped she sounded casual, but she was pretty sure she sounded like she was lying.

  “Then you’re a better woman than me, because I’d never put up with that shit.” She snagged another bite of Willow’s cake.

  “I was doing the same thing!” Willow whispered harshly. “You know I went out with Billy Crusher six or eight weeks ago and Xavier Frank last month. We explained this yesterday.”

  “That’s true. I had forgotten about that. I just don’t want you to get hurt, because if he hurts you, then I’d have to kill him. And then I’d go to jail, and look at me. I’m tough as nails out here, but in the pen? The whole scene isn’t pretty.”

  Willow laughed and set her plate on the table. “You’re a big pain in the ass for such a tiny person, but thank you for watching out for me.”

  “You’re my little sister. I’ll always have your back. Are you sure everything’s okay? He’s really late, and Sweetwater isn’t big enough for him to get lost.”

  “Spider-Man!” Louie sprinted toward the side yard with nine screaming friends on his heels.

  Talia sidled up to Willow and Piper as they headed for the side yard. Butterflies took flight in Willow’s stomach as a tall, broad Spider-Man came into focus and lifted Louie into his arms. She would know that athletic build anywhere.

  Ben’s laughter sailed across the yard from where he and their father were heading toward the mayhem.

  “Mom! It’s Spider-Man!” Louie yelled to Bridgette, who was looking at Willow with an approving smile.

  “Oh my God,” Piper said with awe. “I’ve never seen Louie so happy.”

  “The only one missing from this party is your man, Willow,” Talia pointed out.

  “Not anymore,” Willow said more to herself than to her sisters.

  Spider-Man looked over the kids’ heads, locking eyes with Willow. He lifted his shoulders in that simple, honest shrug that was so very Zane it made her warm all over.

  “I concede,” Piper said. “He might have just won me over.”

  “Me too,” Willow whispered. His voice sailed through her mind. Then stop pushing me away and let me show you the man I can be. The man I will be for you.

  She was done pushing. So very done.

  “WHAT YOU DID for Louie was amazing,” Bridgette said to Zane as she hugged him goodbye after the party. “He’ll remember this day forever.”

  “He’s a great little guy.” Zane reached for Willow’s hand, glad to see things between her and Bridgette seemed to be okay. “If you have time while I’m in town, why don’t we all get together? We can do something kid friendly.”

  The smile Willow flashed made him want to suggest it again and again.

  “Or we can have Mom and Dad watch Louie and we can do something adultish,” Bridgette suggested.

  “I’ll call you, Bridge.” Willow hugged her, and Zane heard indiscernible whispers pass between them.

  They both came away smiling, which he took as a good sign, and Willow reached for his hand again.

  “Thank you for being so good to Louie,” she said as they walk
ed down the driveway toward their cars. “I’ve never seen him so happy.”

  “I’m sorry about being so late. I thought I could get a costume at Walmart in the next town over, but they only had kids’ sizes. I had to call a buddy from the city, and he met me halfway.”

  “You had someone drive halfway from New York City? You must have really good friends.”

  “Why does that surprise you?” He nudged her shoulder with his. “You know I’m a good guy.”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  “So you’ll stop all the nonsense and give me a chance?”

  “Haven’t I already shown you that?” When they reached her car, she hooked her finger into the waist of his jeans and pulled him closer. “On the counter in my bakery kitchen? On the prep table? In my office?”

  His body had been humming all afternoon from their sexy tryst. “Maybe you should refresh my memory.” He backed her up, trapping her against the car.

  “Do I have a choice?” she teased.

  “Always.”

  She shook her head with a sweet smile on her lips. “Not when it comes to you I don’t. I never have.”

  His mouth came down gently over hers in a kiss so warm and wonderful he never wanted it to end.

  “Let’s go by Ben’s and get your stuff,” she said between kisses.

  “It’s in my car.”

  “Geez. You could at least pretend like it was my choice.”

  He laughed as she climbed into her car. “Babe, I know you better than you know yourself. How many times do I have to say that before you realize it’s true?”

  Her smile faded, and she ran her finger along the edge of the steering wheel, avoiding his eyes. “I told Bridgette.”

  “I know you did.”

  Her eyes flicked to his. “How . . . ?”

  He cocked a brow.

  “Right.” She smiled again. “You know me.”

  “I told Ben.”

  “You said you might.” She reached up and grabbed his shirt, tugging him down to eye level. “I’m scared, Z. You need to know that. Like, scared-to-death scared.”

  “I know that, too, sweetheart, and I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you know you can trust me.” He gave her a chaste kiss. “We’re playing by my rules, remember? Let go of all the bullshit, and one day you’ll wake up and realize I’ve been the frosting on your cupcake all along.”

  She laughed. “You’re such a weirdo.”

  “What does that say about you? You’re engaged to a weirdo.” He glanced up at Bridgette’s house. “I used to think the houses here were nondescript, but they’re really cute as hell.”

  “You were in such a rush to get out of Sweetwater and on to bigger, better things, you snubbed your nose at a lot of things.”

  “I never snubbed my nose at you.” He leaned in for another kiss.

  She sighed. “Hashtag truth.”

  “Now who’s the weirdo?”

  “Definitely you. Think we can watch one of those movies on your playlist tonight?”

  He closed her car door and leaned in the window, taking another kiss. “We can try.” He winked and walked toward his rental car.

  “What does that mean?” she called after him.

  He glanced over his shoulder. The passion between them transcended words. We’re so right together. What the hell took me so long to figure it out?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  WILLOW HAD FORGOTTEN that in all the years they’d been friends, Zane had only been in her apartment once, and that was last night when he’d dropped her off. It had been dark, and he’d been solely focused on her. There was no way he’d noticed anything else. She rarely thought of him as a wealthy actor, but it was hard not to realize it as he was standing in her one-bedroom apartment, which she was sure paled in comparison to the mansion he must live in. Piper and their father had done an amazing job of making it feel open and airy when she’d renovated, by adding cathedral ceilings and keeping the kitchen open to the living room, separated only by a breakfast bar. The recessed lighting, cream-colored walls with white moldings, and neutral furniture gave the space a cohesive feel. Of course, Willow being the pastry lover she was, she’d added mint and peach accent pillows for a splash of color.

  What would Zane think of her cozy nest?

  His gaze coasted to the windows overlooking the lake and fell to the couch below, where the yearbook she’d been poring over last night like a lovesick teenager sat like a beacon to her heart’s desire. Her pulse kicked up. Could she casually pick up the yearbook and slip it beneath a pillow without him realizing it?

  “Love your place, Wills.”

  “Um, thanks. Why don’t you put your stuff in the bedroom?” She motioned to the door to their right and moved in front of him, hoping to block his view of the couch.

  His eyes flicked over her shoulder, and his lips curved up in a knowing grin.

  “Wills.” He stepped closer, his arms circling her waist. “Were you feeling nostalgic last night?” He nuzzled his scruffy face against her neck, sparking a rippling effect of shivers and heat.

  She touched her forehead to his shoulder, sheepishly answering, “Maybe.”

  He pressed a kiss to her neck, took her face between both his hands, and put his warm, moist lips on hers, kissing her as he smiled.

  “I love that,” he whispered. “Don’t be embarrassed about drooling over your man.”

  She laughed and crossed the room to pick up the yearbook. “I wasn’t drooling. I was cursing.” She reached for it, and he grabbed her by the waist from behind and sank down to the couch, bringing her onto his lap.

  “Cursing? That doesn’t sound like a girl who’s in love.” He reached for the yearbook, and she pulled it away.

  “Remember, this was last night, when your confession came on the heels of the most incredible sex I’ve ever had. So there was all this lust and confusion tangled up with the other stuff.”

  “Go on.” He nipped at her lips. “I’m liking the ‘most incredible sex’ part.”

  She laughed again, and couldn’t remember ever having as many happy moments with any man as she’d had in the last two days with Zane. Despite the turmoil, he was, bar none, the man who made her heart sing.

  “It sounds exactly like a girl who is madly in love but has tried to ignore her feelings for so long it’s clawing at every inch of her soul to be set free.” She snuggled against his chest and draped an arm over his shoulder, speaking softer. “And then she remembered the pain of the past, and it chained that love to the wall, leaving the lovesick girl in a constant battle of wanting the infuriating man and being afraid of the emotions he incited.”

  He brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her again, dipping into her mouth like a flower blooms, gentle yet certain of its ability to consume the sun’s rays. The yearbook fell from her fingers as he took the kiss deeper. She loved the way his kisses forced her to abandon all thought and become one with him. He knew when to be rough, when to be tender, and not a single second of their kisses felt forced or practiced. These kisses were beautifully real, making them that much sweeter.

  “Baby,” he breathed, gathering her hair over one shoulder. “When you want to curse me, do it to my face. We’re feeling, Wills, and I’m not going to let either of us screw this up by keeping secrets about anything.”

  How did he know exactly what she needed to hear?

  “I want to know when I piss you off so I can fix it or argue about it, and I want to know when I turn you on.” He pulled the neckline of her shirt down and kissed the center of her breastbone. Her body pulsed with desire. “I want to strip away all the bullshit and get to the bottom of who we are. The good, the bad, and the frustrating.”

  She couldn’t breathe. She felt like she was standing outside her body, watching a movie she’d wished for forever.

  “And you’re looking at me like you’re not sure if I’m acting or not.” He picked up the yearbook and sighed. “I don’t blame you. Sometimes I have a hard tim
e distinguishing between the two.”

  He pulled her closer.

  “I actually wasn’t thinking that I don’t believe you. I was thinking that you knew exactly what I needed to hear. But the fact that you can’t distinguish between real and fiction is a little scary.”

  “No, it’s not, baby. It would be if I wasn’t aware of it.” He flipped through the yearbook to the drama club picture. “Do you know why I became an actor?”

  “You said you loved everything about it, and you couldn’t wait to get to Hollywood, to live a bigger, better life.” She gazed down at the picture of the boy she’d fallen so hard for. It seemed strange to admit to herself now, but his senior year had been the year she’d dreaded the most. She’d expected to see less of him as he matured toward manhood while she was still finding her footing in that space between awkward and confident. But that hadn’t happened. Even though Zane had been the varsity football team captain, mentoring junior varsity players, with cheerleaders fawning all over him, he still took the time to talk to her after football games, if only for a minute. He’d flash a smile and say something like, Glad you made it. She hadn’t thought about those times in years, but now she remembered how he’d look in her direction between plays, and for a beat the rest of the kids had faded away. Had she always romanticized their friendship?

  “That’s what I told everyone,” Zane said, pulling her from her memories. “But do you want to know the rest of the story?” He flipped through the yearbook to the picture of the football team.

  “Of course.”

  His eyes remained trained on the photograph. He and Ben stood in the back of the picture, both of them tall and dark, their faces masks of cool confidence that boys of almost eighteen possessed.

  “Growing up, I always felt like I was putting on an act, you know? Trying to fit in and make up for the things I lacked.”

  “Everyone does. That’s part of figuring out who you are.”

  He lifted his eyes to hers. “You didn’t. You’ve always been real.”

  “Only because I sucked at faking it.” She thought about that for a minute, and she realized that wasn’t exactly true. “Actually, I didn’t really suck at it, so I haven’t always been real.” She flipped through the yearbook until she reached her class picture and pointed to the picture of herself. She’d always worn her hair long, but she’d had bangs back then. “That girl had been crushing on you for years, and I did a pretty good job of keeping that to myself.”