The Real Thing (Sugar Lake Book 1)

by Melissa Foster

  “Worried about your film? Is that the script?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t you have to be up at the crack of dawn?”

  She snuggled in closer and smiled up at him. “Yes, but when I go to bed with a hot guy and wake up alone, it kind of rattles me.”

  He pressed his lips to hers. “Sorry.”

  “So . . .” She eyed the papers in his hand. “If it’s not your script, what is it that has enough power to drag you from my bed when I’m naked?”

  “You mean besides the fact that you talk in your sleep?”

  “I do not!” Holy cow. What did I say?

  He laughed. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “Zane Walker, if I do talk in my sleep, it’s about recipes or something innocuous.”

  “How do you know I’m not going to sell your trade secrets?”

  “How do you know I didn’t videotape last night to use as blackmail when you turn into an asshat?”

  “Touché, sweet girl.” He leaned in for another kiss.

  “So what are you doing?”

  He sat back, his eyes skirting over the lake. “I had forgotten how beautiful it is here at night.”

  “Nice change of subject.”

  He pushed a hand through his hair and faced her head-on. The tension around his eyes and mouth made her stomach knot up.

  “You’re right, and I’m sorry. I promised to be honest. I’ve never shared this with anyone before, so cut me a little slack.” He waved the papers. “You know how I said I wanted more out of life?”

  “Yes.” She sat up a little straighter, preparing for whatever shoe was going to drop.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard the reason I took this role was to drive my career in a new direction. Romantic suspense, which could then lead to romantic comedy and all those silly love stories.”

  “It was all over the media. You have to be excited about kissing Remi Divine. I assume you have kissing scenes.” Remi Divine was his beautiful twenty-four-year-old costar. America’s sweetheart of the moment.

  “Wills.” He shook his head. “Yes, I have to kiss her, but acting kisses aren’t like real kisses.”

  “Do your lips touch?” she teased.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “It’s a real kiss.” She snuggled closer. “But I’m not jealous or anything.”

  He cocked a brow.

  “Okay, maybe a little. But I’m a big girl.” I know how to hide it well. She pushed that green-eyed monster away and locked the door behind it. “Anyway, isn’t the change from action movies to romance what started the uproar with your focus group?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, that and other things. The truth is, this role is just another role for me. I thought it was the roles I was taking that were leaving me feeling empty, but after filming so much of this movie, I know that wasn’t it. As I said earlier, acting was the only thing I was good at. Not good in class? No problem. I’m athletic. I’ll become the star quarterback. Girls didn’t care that my family was poor. They saw a cute guy and made me popular. Have a poor family that doesn’t want to help themselves or help you become something more? No problem. I’ll do it on my own. Acting, acting, acting.”

  He pushed his hand through his hair again and shifted, putting space between them. “Making friends was easy because of Ben. Your brother didn’t give a shit about my unambitious family or my crappy clothes or any of that. He saw me. You saw me. Your family saw me, except maybe Piper. I think part of her saw right through me.”

  Willow took his hand. It was hot, nervous hot, and her heart hurt at the thought of him believing that for all these years.

  “Zane, Piper didn’t think you were acting. She thought you were leading me on. That we’d hook up and I’d get hurt.”

  He slid her an uncertain look. “Well, she was right.”

  “But we hurt ourselves. You didn’t hurt me. I know that now.” She moved closer, needing the connection for what she was about to ask. “Do you feel like you’re acting with me now?”

  His eyes warmed, and he pulled her closer. He lifted her chin and kissed her softly. “For a long time I wasn’t sure who the real me was. Nobody in Hollywood talks to me about anything real. They talk about movies and women and parties and awards that I don’t give a rat’s ass about. It’s easy to be the wild guy. Good-time Zane, the partier who lives life on a whim. But when I came home for your parents’ anniversary party in the spring and we went fishing with your dad, things changed.”

  He looked down at the papers in his hands, and when he met her gaze again, his eyes shone with new light. “Not a single person in your family asked me about acting, or the latest gossip, or what movie I was doing next. You mentioned wanting a bookstore in your bakery one day, and Talia and I brainstormed about ways to get through to kids who have trouble with academics so they don’t end up feeling lost. It’s so different when I’m here. Ben and I played basketball, and Piper gave me hell about anything she could. And your mom tried to get me to use her Sweetwater Spice soap. Remember?”

  He laughed, and it brought a lump to Willow’s throat.

  “You remembered . . .” All that?

  “And more. Your dad asked me what my goals were for this year, and when I answered, I realized I had told him the truth. Not the Hollywood bullshit I spewed out in LA. You guys know me in a way no one out there ever could.”

  “That’s called family,” Willow said softly, knowing it was a touchy subject for him.

  Emotions swam in his eyes. “Yeah. Being back here is torturous bliss. It’s the place I desperately wanted to escape to prove myself, and in doing so, I got lost. But you never let me fully disappear. You were always there, a text away, turning me down but reminding me of the person I really was. I am not acting with you, Wills. Maybe sometimes when you’d blow me off and I needed to suck it up to remain sane I’d hide behind that fun-guy mask. But not now. No.”

  “Z—”

  He touched his lips to hers in a tender kiss that felt as though he was sealing a vow.

  LYING NEXT TO Willow, listening to the even cadence of her breathing as she’d slept in his arms, had changed everything for Zane. He knew she was worried about his reputation, but he also knew, from every second they spent together, that she was it for him. Willow was as real as real could be, and he didn’t just want to show her how much he loved her; he wanted to be the best man he could for her. He’d gone out to the balcony to read over the project he’d been toying with recently.

  “After talking with your dad, I went back to something I’d started—and put away—a long time ago.” He laid the papers he’d been holding in her lap and placed her hand over them.

  She glanced down with confusion in her eyes.

  “Go ahead, take a look.”

  She picked up the papers and scanned the title page. “Beneath It All? A screenplay by—” Her eyes widened. “You wrote this?” She flipped to the first page without waiting for an answer.

  Anxiety crawled up his spine. “I haven’t shown it to anyone, and it’s probably crap. It’s gritty and not at all like what you’re used to seeing in the theaters.”

  “Shh.” She leaned her back against his side and pulled her feet up on the cushion. The blanket parted, revealing a flash of skin between her breasts.

  “Wills, are you naked under there?”

  “Mm-hm. Shh.” She flipped the page and continued reading.

  He ground his teeth together. Well, that took care of his nerves. Now he was too busy thinking about her naked to worry about what she thought of the screenplay.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  WILLOW PULLED THE last tray of muffins from the oven and set them on the cooling rack with the others, filling the oven with two more cakes to bake. She set the hot pads on the stainless-steel table, then grabbed the powdered sugar and sprinkled it over two trays of doughnuts, inhaling the sugary sweetness she knew she’d never get enough of. She pushed the trays of doughnuts off to the side and pulled two trays of mini tarts from the other oven.
The heavy door complained with a piercing screech.

  “You need to get that fixed, baby girl.”

  Willow startled, nearly dropping the tarts. “Mom, you scared me half to death. It’s fine, just noisy.” The oven was on its last leg, but she wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to it yet, and she needed to save a little more money before she could replace it. She slid the trays onto the table as her mother placed a box on the butcher-block counter at the other end of the kitchen.

  “I’d say you’re too sentimental, but I can’t. Look at who you’re marrying.” Her mother sighed. “I’m happy for you, honey. And holy moly! There are roses on every surface out there. He really did fill the bakery with roses. I thought the girls had exaggerated. It smells even more heavenly in here than usual. Plus . . . bodyguards?” Her mother’s springy blond curls framed her face.

  Willow rolled her eyes. She was glad the crowds were gone, but it still felt weird to have Zane’s brawny security guys standing in front of the bakery. She’d given them each a muffin and coffee when she’d arrived. They were nice, if not a little stoic.

  Her mother’s wide-legged pants nearly swept the floor as she went to check out the muffins. “I made you some of that jasmine body butter you love so much.”

  Her mother had been making soaps, shampoos, and fragrances since Willow was a little girl. It had started as a hobby, but the ladies in the community had quickly caught wind of her lovely fragrances, and before Roxie knew what was happening, she had more requests than she could handle. Now she sold them in local stores and did a moderate amount of online sales as well. She claimed to put magic potions into some of her fragrances, only she never told them which ones. It was a running joke in the community. Whenever someone got engaged, someone always blamed it on Roxie’s wares. Willow had enough of her mother’s handiwork to stock an entire store. “I have plenty of the lavender lotion you made me a few weeks ago. You should give that to Bridgette.” Mini tart shaper in hand, she began pushing the centers of the tarts down to make space for the cream cheese filling. “You’re early today.”

  It was seven o’clock Monday morning, and although Willow was at the bakery every morning by five o’clock preparing for the 8:00 a.m. rush, her mother, who babysat Louie, rarely came by before seven thirty, when Bridgette arrived to open her flower shop.

  “It just hit me. We have a wedding to plan! And I wanted to drop off the body butter. You know how soft the jasmine body butter makes your skin.” Her mother waggled her brows.

  “Mom.” She thought about bathing in the lake with the soap Zane had bought. And last night, after they’d showered, he’d helped her put on the lavender lotion her mother had made. I love how everything smells on you. An old fear shivered through her, and she stomped it down deep. She wasn’t guilty of over-romanticizing their relationship anymore. She smiled to herself. She’d fallen asleep reading his screenplay in bed and had woken to the alarm wrapped in Zane’s arms. She would have liked nothing more than to stay there, but she had too much to do. Including, she hoped, reading more of the screenplay and getting in touch with Aurelia to talk about the possibility of partnering with the bakery and the bookstore.

  Her mother pointed to the muffins. “Are these my favorite?” Roxie Dalton was a sweets lover, and she’d passed her mouthful of sweet teeth down to Willow. The way Willow had it figured, she could thank her mother for her curvy figure, thick blond hair, and inability to ever hold her tongue. Her father, on the other hand, had supplied her with the stubborn genes she wore so proudly.

  “Blueberry cinnamon, yes, and let’s keep the eyebrow wiggles to a minimum.” She finished preparing the centers of the tarts as her mother chose a muffin. She had a feeling if her mother had any idea how dirty she really wanted to get with Zane, she’d be gasping in horror. She gently twisted the tarts, removed them from the tins, and set them aside to cool.

  “What? Can’t I be happy for my baby girl? Zane has always been like family. He was your first real kiss, for goodness’ sakes.”

  “A mistletoe kiss when I was seven does not count as a real kiss.” Her mind spiraled back to the first kiss that did count, when he’d stood before her dripping with confidence and eagerness and holding her so lovingly it had felt like a dream. Don’t be nervous. I’ve got you.

  “Every kiss counts, sweetheart.” Her mother took a big bite of the muffin.

  Until the night at the lake, Willow had dismissed her and Zane’s first real kiss from counting. But now that she knew the truth, that first kiss had shifted back into the place she’d once held it, making it a treasure once again.

  “There are plenty of kisses that don’t count. Think of all the frogs I kissed over the years.” When I was trying to find someone to fill the emptiness Zane left behind.

  “I disagree. If you hadn’t gone out with those other men, you’d have no perspective about what’s true love and what’s nothing more than lust or physical attraction. I’m glad I dated a few men before your father. He might be a proper gentleman now, but your father had his own bout with recklessness.”

  “Daddy?” Willow couldn’t imagine it.

  “Oh yes. He was quite the catch, and he knew it. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to compete, even though your father had set his sights on me big-time.” Her mother took another bite of the muffin. “Mm. This is incredible.”

  “Thanks.” Willow set up the blender, her thoughts turning introspective. “How did you know you could trust him?”

  Her mother’s eyes drifted up to the ceiling, and she sighed. When she met Willow’s gaze again, there was a well of wisdom in her eyes that Willow wanted to learn from.

  “I didn’t know. I hoped, and every day he showed me I could trust him.” Her mother reached over and squeezed her hand. “I know you, baby girl. You’re thinking about the actresses that will flock here next week and wondering how you’ll handle it.”

  “No—” She couldn’t lie to her mother any more than she already had. “I mean, yes, but not because I don’t think I measure up. Just because . . .”

  “Because yesterday every woman and their sister came from over the hills and across the mountains to see him?”

  Willow turned on the blender, remembering how frustrating that had been.

  “I know, honey, but the man sent you dozens of roses and ran through town to see you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Nothing spreads faster than gossip in Sweetwater, and you two are all over the Internet. He had his security guys put out the word that if anyone comes near your place to gawk, he’ll get a restraining order.”

  She turned off the blender. “What?”

  “I’m pretty sure you don’t have anything to worry about. The man is in love, Willow. And I think he always has been.”

  A little thrill raced up Willow’s spine. “Why do you say that?”

  “Mother’s intuition. Now can we talk about the wedding? Have you set a date?”

  She turned on the blender, working out her thoughts. Restraining orders? He wasn’t kidding when he’d said he’d taken care of it. The back door swung open, and Piper breezed into the kitchen with Bridgette and Louie at her heels.

  “I told you she’d be here,” Piper said as she snagged a doughnut. She came in most mornings for breakfast on her way to work. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail, and her jeans were worn so thin along the thighs Willow was sure they’d split any day now. She slid her perky size-two butt onto a stool and took a big bite of a doughnut.

  “When am I ever not here?”

  “Um, when you have a hot fiancé lying in your bed.” Piper smirked.

  “So now you’re pro-Zane?” She liked that a whole lot more than she’d realized.

  “Let’s just say that what he did for you-know-who was beyond amazing.”

  “Hi, Auntie Willow.” Louie hugged her legs, getting flour all over the front of his shirt. “Mommy said I could only have half of a doughnut today.”

  “Did she, now?” Willow arche
d a brow at her youngest sister.

  “He already ate a bowl of cereal and a banana.” Bridgette peeked into the box their mother had brought. “Jasmine body butter?” She and Piper exchanged a knowing look.

  Willow rolled her eyes. “It’s for you.”

  “Oh no, it’s not,” her mother said. She opened her arms and knelt down for Louie. “Come here, sugar pop. Let’s get you that doughnut.”

  Louie leapt into her arms. “Yay.”

  “Seriously, Bridge. Take the body butter.” Willow finished preparing the filling and began spooning it into the tarts.

  “No way. I don’t need one of Mom’s magic love potions right now. I’ve got a little boy who takes up all my energy.” Bridgette began brushing the flour off Louie’s shirt. “I should have brought him a change of clothes.”

  “Little boys are supposed to get dirty, honey,” their mother said as Bridgette wiped powdered sugar from Louie’s chin. “Louie and I can finish baking if you want to spend this morning with your man.”

  “Mom, what did I just tell you? Implying sexy stuff to your daughter in any fashion goes along with eyebrow waggling.” Her family’s approval had her giddy inside, despite the tiny amount of trepidation she still held on to about when Zane eventually left for LA. “Where is Talia when I need her? She’d tell you it’s inappropriate to suggest those things.”

  “Talia had an early meeting with a student this morning,” their mother said. “Besides, sexy stuff is part of being in love. How do you think you three got here?”

  “Ew,” the girls said in unison.

  “I have to get into the shop,” Bridgette said. “But did Mom ask you about the engagement party?”

  Willow concentrated on the tarts, placing pieces of strawberries and whole raspberries and blueberries on top of the filling. “Nope. She skipped right to the wedding planning.”

  “When are you getting married?” Piper slid off the stool and washed her hands in the sink.

  “I love you guys to pieces, but we just got engaged.” She caught a supportive look from Bridgette. “Can you give us a little breathing space, please? Let us enjoy the newness of our engagement before we throw a party. Zane starts filming next week. There’s going to be enough craziness around here.”