The Real Thing (Sugar Lake Book 1)

by Melissa Foster

  “I followed you home to make sure you got there safely and because I still couldn’t believe you’d chosen me. Of all the guys in Sweetwater, I was the lucky one. That night, as I followed you home, all I could think about was that one day you’d realize your rules were stupid and that we should be together. And you did, so let’s enjoy it.”

  He pushed to his feet, and she happily took his hand, following him into the living room.

  “So you moved all this way, but you kept Sweetwater alive. It’s in the pictures, in this house. I had the complete wrong impression of you.”

  “No, Wills. You didn’t. I wasn’t a saint just because I didn’t bring women here. I had my fair share of meaningless hookups.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean that, but thanks for that visual. Geez, Z. Just what I needed.”

  He hugged her. “No lies, remember? Yes, I couldn’t wait to leave Sweetwater. I didn’t want to end up like my parents, living an unfulfilling life, paycheck to paycheck. But I didn’t want to leave all of Sweetwater behind. That’s where you were. That’s where Ben was. It’s where my life was.” He kissed her softly. “I left a piece of my heart by the creek all those years ago. Did you really think I’d never come back to get it?”

  “Yes,” she said honestly. “But I’m glad we both finally came to our senses.”

  ZANE AND WILLOW decided to forgo the crowded tourist hot spots and hit the Hollywood Hills for a late-afternoon hike. A few fans stopped for selfies with Zane, and he dragged Willow into them, which embarrassed her but thrilled him to no end. At least this way when they ended up on Instagram or Twitter, none of the fans could say they were out with him and make up nonsense stories. Being back in Sweetwater had reminded him what it was like to have a normal life, and even after being interrupted by only a few well-meaning fans today, he missed it. Terribly.

  They made spaghetti for dinner, wanting to savor every minute they had together instead of wasting time waiting for a table in a restaurant only to be interrupted by more fans. After dinner they lay by the pool cuddled up on a lounge chair, making wishes on stars. I hope you don’t blow your scenes as you finish filming. I hope you don’t burn your next wedding cake. They were careful not to mention their upcoming time apart. But now, as he lay with Willow sleeping soundly in his arms, in a room that no longer felt like home, as dawn crept over the hills, their time apart was all he could think about.

  He’d arranged a surprise for her back in Sweetwater, and he wished he could be there to see her face when she saw it. She’d be pissed at first, because in her eyes the things he did were too big, but his girl deserved everything she ever wanted. And he was going to be the man to give it to her.

  Willow stirred. “Hi,” she said groggily. Her hair was a tangled mess from his greedy hands, she had sheet prints on her cheek and a little razor burn beside her mouth from their fervent kisses, and she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  “Did I wake you?”

  “Mm-mm.” She stretched and glanced at the clock. “Do I really have to leave in three hours?”

  He moved over her, kissing her neck and shoulder. Her skin was warm and inviting. “You can stay with me.”

  She wound her arms around his neck, cradling his hips between her thighs. “I wish I could, but I have a bridal shower to cater Wednesday, and I have to go back and fight with my distributor about getting a new oven.”

  “What about a man to take care of?”

  “I thought you’d be upset if I had a man in Sweetwater and you here.”

  “You wicked little vamp.” He kissed her as she laughed.

  “Two weeks ago we thought we’d be staging a breakup.” She grabbed his face, grinning from ear to ear. “Now you’re stuck with me.”

  “Just the way I like it.”

  He slid his hands beneath her butt, angling her hips up as their bodies came together. Fire radiated from his core, thrummed through his limbs.

  “Love me, Z—”

  He covered her mouth with his and loved her until sunlight snuck in through the curtains, warming their tangled legs. And then he loved her again—in bed, in the shower, and he tried to tackle her for a quickie while she dressed, but she threatened his manhood.

  On the way to the airport they stopped at Claude’s Café, located around the corner from Zane’s house. It was just about the only place he could go without being hassled by tourists. It was more of a dive than a café, with concrete walls and hand-painted signs. Refurbished stools, large black-and-white floor tiles, and an old-fashioned Formica countertop with metal edging rounded out the eclectic café.

  “Dude.” Claude Bouche lifted his chin in greeting. His beanie hung halfway off his head, and sprigs of thick dark curls peeked out from beneath the edges. “Good to see you again.” He gave Willow a blatant, and approving, once-over. “How’s it goin’, beautiful?”

  “Watch it, Claude.” Zane wrapped his arms around Willow from behind. “I’m going to marry this girl one day.” His phone vibrated, and she wiggled out of his arms and ordered her coffee.

  He read the text from his public relations rep with confusion and navigated to the links she’d sent. Anger burned in his gut as pictures of Willow sprawled out on a bed flashed before his eyes on one gossip site after another. It had to be a hoax. He was going to slaughter whoever was responsible for this shit.

  “Wills,” he said, mentally gearing up to fight the attack head-on. “You’ve never had nearly naked pictures of yourself taken, have you?” He showed her the phone. “Some asshole’s trying to pretend they’ve got racy pictures of you.”

  The blood drained from her face.

  “Wills?”

  She stormed out of the café and headed straight for the car. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.”

  “Talk to me, Willow. What’s going on? Did you have these taken?”

  “Yes! I had them taken for you.”

  He froze. “For me?”

  She climbed into the car and stared out the window, refusing to speak another word.

  He wished he’d called his driver. The goddamn traffic was relentless, and he needed to hold her and get to the bottom of this mess. He’d been giving her time to calm down, but as they neared the airport, he couldn’t take the silence any longer.

  “I don’t understand. You had these pictures taken for me?”

  “Yes! What don’t you understand?” Tears tumbled down her cheeks. “I was eighteen and beyond stupid. I thought I could win you over by sending you sexy pictures, and then you stopped texting and I never went to pick them up. That seems like a hundred years ago. I don’t know why they’re all over the Internet now or how they got there. All I know is that every time I leave Sweetwater my life falls apart.”

  The knowledge annihilated him. Between the hurt in her eyes, in her voice, her words, and the anger in his gut, he could barely breathe. His sweet, trusting girl, who had always hated people looking at her breasts, had taken boudoir pictures for him? He ground his teeth against the stream of curses vying for release and reached for her hand.

  She swatted it away, turning her whole body toward the door.

  “Wills, I . . . Jesus.” No apology was big enough for what had happened all those years ago, so he focused on the only thing he could do. “The goddamn photographer must have leaked the pictures. I’ll tear him apart limb by limb. I’ll sue the bastard until he hasn’t got a penny to his name.”

  “Ohmygod,” she said under her breath. “You can’t fix this with money.”

  “Like hell I can’t.”

  She gave him a tearful, disbelieving stare. “People can’t unsee those pictures, Zane. Maybe you’re used to this kind of thing, but I’m not, and I don’t want it in my life. I can’t take it.”

  “Baby, this will blow over. You’ll see. As soon as another story hits, this will be—”

  “Blow over?” She scoffed, staring out the window again, arms crossed, as painful as a barbed-wire barrier between them that he
wanted to tear the fuck down. “Everyone will see those pictures if they haven’t already. My parents, my customers . . .” Her jaw clenched. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

  “Willow—”

  “Don’t. Just . . . don’t.”

  He bit his tongue but didn’t silence his mind. He was going to fix this, no matter what the cost.

  When they finally reached the airport, he navigated to the private parking area by the airstrip, and Willow strode from the car before he even cut the engine. He grabbed her bags, flagged the pilot to load them onto the plane, and caught up to her.

  “Willow, stop. Please, baby.” He was not going to lose her over this. No frigging way.

  She turned, eyes red and damp, her lower lip trembling, slicing even deeper as she continued storming across the tarmac toward the plane. “Don’t, Zane. This is my fault.” Her voice escalated again, and every word struck him like a bullet. “I made a horrible decision, and it’s biting me in the ass. Now I have to go home and clean up my mess.”

  “This is not your fault. It’s mine.” He didn’t mean to shout, but rage tore through him. “You took those pictures for me, remember? If you were dating some normal guy, you wouldn’t be the target of every asshole that wants to make a buck. I’m going to fix this, Willow. I promise you I will. And I’m coming home with you.”

  “No. You’re not.” She stepped forward, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks, and astonishingly, a small smile lifted her lips and a tender tone followed. “I love you, and I know you want to swoop in and make those pictures disappear, but you can’t. They’re out there. Forever. You start filming at six tomorrow morning here in LA, and I am not going to let you screw that up because of something I did.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he held her tighter than he ever had, wishing he could wrap her up in a protective bubble and whisk her away from all of this. The press, the hurt, the embarrassment.

  “Our lives are a world apart, and right now I have to go back to mine and you need to go back to yours. I love you,” she whispered, and it caused his anger to swell and dampen his own damn eyes. “I’ll call you when I’ve got things under control.”

  “Willow, I’m not letting you go.”

  She took a step away. “I know. You never will.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  FOR THE SECOND time in as many weeks, entering Sweetwater failed to bring warmth and comfort to Willow. Only this time it wasn’t just because she’d been lying to her family, which was weighing heavily on her, or because of the stupid pictures that would embarrass the people she loved most. No. This time was worse, because the leak of those racy pictures drove home what it really meant to be with Zane.

  During the long plane trip, she’d come up with a plan to go straight to her parents’ house and explain everything: the fake engagement, the pictures, and why she’d taken them. She was an adult. It wasn’t like they’d shame her for what she’d done as a teenager. Her father would be disappointed, though, and her mother? Willow had no idea how her mother would react, but she was pretty sure she’d feel like she’d failed Willow in some way by not making it clear that she could have talked to her. Even though she had made it abundantly clear. As conservative as her father was, her mother had always been as open about sex and emotions as Willow and her sisters would allow her to be. But as an insecure teenager taking a bold step, Willow hadn’t trusted anyone with her secret. Not even Bridgette.

  Except Zane.

  I’ve always trusted you.

  Now, as she parked behind the bakery, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t face her parents. Her heart was too broken, her emotions too raw. She went up to her apartment. Only the place where she and Zane had been so happy made her feel even emptier inside, and the tears she’d held in for more than seven hours came crashing down. She staggered to the bedroom and sank down to the bed. Her family would have to wait for an explanation until she wrapped her mind around the situation, and at the moment she wasn’t even close. She grabbed the pillow Zane had slept with and curled up. This situation would not beat her. She would not let it change the confident woman she’d worked so hard to become. She would rise above this the same way she’d risen above her heartbreak all those years ago. This time she wasn’t in it alone, though it was her choice to handle it by herself.

  But the rest?

  Trying to figure out how to navigate this new world with Zane?

  That was like making what should be a perfect cake and taking it out of the oven too early—over and over again. For that she needed strength, and she was too emotionally drained and pissed off to think straight. She closed her eyes, clutching the pillow to her chest. His scent suffused with her tears, and the next thing she knew she was waking up and it was dark outside.

  She sat up, disoriented, and checked the time on her phone. It was after seven o’clock, and she’d missed three calls from Zane and two from her mother. She needed to call them both, but first she needed sustenance. After washing her face, she went down to the bakery, moving robotically through the dark kitchen, and made a beeline for the freezer. She was pretty good at baking only what would sell each day, but Friday she’d had three leftover cupcakes, and now she wondered if the cupcake gods had been in on this cruel joke.

  She set them on the counter, but even the thought of eating turned her stomach. There were too many lies rotting inside her. She hopped up on the counter beside the box of cupcakes, remembering when Zane had lifted her onto the counter.

  How can I do it, Z? Your life is too exposed for me.

  She couldn’t bring herself to let him go. She didn’t want to, no matter how hard things got.

  She called her mother, closing her eyes in preparation.

  “Willow? Honey, are you okay?”

  She opened her eyes, noticing for the first time the shiny new oven across the room. She pushed from the counter, dumbfounded.

  “Honey. Where are you?” her mother asked. “I’m coming to get you.”

  “No,” she said quickly, kneeling to touch the pristine oven. “I’m okay, but . . .” I’m not okay. Zane had the oven put in. He had to. But how?

  “Honey, we saw the pictures, and I know you’re not okay. I hear it in your voice. Talk to me, sweetie.”

  You saw the pictures? Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d hoped they hadn’t seen them. Snapping out of her shock, she turned away from the oven and focused on the more important issue. “I’m sorry for embarrassing you and Dad.” She told her mother why she’d had the pictures taken. Her mother listened in silence, allowing her to confess how hard she’d fallen for Zane that long-ago summer and how the guy she’d brought home from college that Christmas was just to make it appear as if she’d moved on, when in reality it had taken more than a decade. The only cure for true love was more of the person she loved.

  “I’m sorry for lying to you, Mom, but I’m not sorry for what I did. I’m glad Zane was my first.”

  “You don’t need to be sorry for any of it. Your body, your decision. I’ve always told you that. But I’m sad that you thought you had to go through it alone. You’re not the only Dalton child to have their heart broken or to do something embarrassing. It’s like a rite of passage in our family.”

  Willow didn’t believe that. She couldn’t even imagine Talia doing anything embarrassing, much less getting her heart broken. “Thanks for understanding, but I am sorry about the pictures. Daddy must be livid.”

  “No, honey. He’s confused, as is the entire family. But once you explain it to them, you know they’ll be there for you. But you might want to leave out the part about Zane being your first. Maybe you can just tell them you had a major crush on him.”

  Tears of relief for her mother’s unconditional love slid down her cheeks.

  “There’s more, Mom, and I’m not sure anyone will forgive me for this part.” Willow drew in another deep breath, chasing the calm she wondered if she’d ever catch up to again. “I’ve been lying to you about the en
gagement. It was a hoax to help Zane with his reputation, but then we fell in love. I’m sorry. But there is no engagement.”

  Her mother was silent for so long Willow worried she’d lost the connection. She grabbed the box of cupcakes and headed out back. “Mom?” She locked the bakery door and headed for Chloe.

  “We know.”

  Willow stopped in her tracks. “You know?”

  “Zane came over to talk to us Wednesday evening, and he explained the whole situation. That lie, Willow? That lie hurt. You’re not a kid anymore. You should be able to trust family above all else.”

  Willow leaned against Chloe, feeling dizzy. He told you everything. To protect me. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “We understand why you both did it, and Zane took all the blame. But you and I both know we make our own choices, and I hope in the future you’ll know that we’d never betray you in any way.” Her mother paused, and it was all Willow could do to remain erect on buckling knees. “And, honey, that man loves you to the ends of the earth. He said that even if we never forgave him, he couldn’t bear it if he’d hurt your relationship with us. He’s a good man, Willow, and I know you’re devastated about these pictures. But your eighteen-year-old heart knew what it wanted, and that girl would stop at nothing to get it.”

  That wasn’t true, but now wasn’t the time to go into that with her mother. She’d never picked up the pictures, which meant she’d stopped at her broken heart. But her broken heart hadn’t been too shattered to continue loving Zane. She had just buried that love deep enough to survive without him.

  But there is no burying a love too big to contain.

  “And now the photographer has sold them, or leaked them, and everyone I know and love will see them if they haven’t already.” Willow gripped the phone tighter.

  “That’s true, sweetheart, and as embarrassing as that is for you,” her mother said empathetically, “just remember why you had them taken in the first place, baby girl. I think that’s where your strength will come from.”