The Real Thing (Sugar Lake Book 1)

by Melissa Foster

  IT WAS AFTER eleven o’clock when Zane finally pulled into Sweetwater. It had been hell not following Willow onto the plane, and refraining from calling her family had been equally difficult. He’d have given anything to know she was okay, but she’d wanted to talk with them herself, and he knew she’d slaughter him if he got in her way. He drove through the dark, deserted streets straight to her apartment, but Chloe wasn’t parked out back. Mentally ticking off the places she might be, he drove to each of her siblings’ houses and down to Dutch’s Pub, but Chloe was nowhere in sight. He headed for her parents’ house, and as he approached their street, he knew . . .

  He parked on the side of the road and made his way through the woods, which reminded him of the last time he’d taken that walk. His pulse raced as hard as it had back then. Leaves crunched beneath his feet. The scents of pine and damp earth infiltrated his lungs as he neared the creek. He stopped at the edge of the forest, his heart swelling at the sight of Willow sitting on the green-and-blue blanket down by the water. He remembered afterward, how his hands had sweated at the thought that he’d have to act like they’d never made love. He could still recall her trusting green eyes blinking up at him and her sweet voice, pleading and commanding at once. Zane. I need you to do me a favor. It has to be you.

  Pushing those memories aside was difficult, because he wanted to revel in them, to relive every second of their pre-sex discussion, and every breath they took until the moment he’d stood in this very same spot. But now wasn’t the time to reminisce. He needed to have her in his arms again, or his heart might leap from his chest and scurry across the ground all by itself.

  He pulled his phone from his pocket and stepped into the clearing. She turned with a worried look in her eyes, and relief swept over her features. Her lips curved up, and just as quickly, she pressed them together as he knelt beside her.

  “Hi.” His emotions were so raw it was hard to push the words out. Her hair hung loose, blocking his view of her eyes.

  “Hey. Sorry I haven’t called,” she said softly. “I couldn’t. I . . .” She looked out over the creek, and he couldn’t resist tucking her hair behind her ear so he could see her face.

  “I know, babe. It’s okay.” He pushed the “Home” button on his phone, navigated to TMZ’s website, and handed her the phone. “Have you seen this?”

  She pushed it away. “I don’t want to see any more of those pictures. Wait. Why are you here? You’re supposed to start filming in a few hours.”

  “I made a deal with Steve. He gave me forty-eight hours to win you back, and in exchange I gave him the rights to direct my screenplay.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. “You . . .”

  “I’ll produce it, but I wouldn’t care if I didn’t. I’d have come if he fired me. Wills. Do you trust me?”

  Her eyes dampened as she nodded.

  He placed the phone in her hand, curling her fingers around it. “Then look, please.”

  Her gaze dropped to the phone, and she opened her fingers, leaning closer to get a better look. “What have you done?” She scrolled through the Austin Powers–slash–boudoir-style pictures of Zane sprawled across a bed, leaning against a pole, and a handful of other ridiculous shots.

  He shrugged. “Pulled a few strings.”

  Her smile reached her eyes as she took in a picture of Zane lying on his stomach on red silk sheets. His chin was propped up with one hand, his other hand resting on his hip. His knees were bent, red stiletto–clad feet pointed upward, and his eyes were heavily lined, giving the camera a sultry look. “Zane, you look ridiculous and surprisingly hot. But pink panties? High heels? The caption says you’ve secretly been cross-dressing for years. You’re insane. Why would you do this?”

  Wasn’t it obvious? “Nobody’s talking about your pictures anymore. Mine have taken over the spotlight.”

  “But your reputation? A cross-dresser?”

  “How do you know I don’t secretly love high heels?”

  She laughed. “This is crazy, and thoughtful, but it doesn’t change the fact that millions of people have seen my body in risqué pictures that were meant only for you.”

  “I can’t change that, but you weren’t naked. Panties and a bra cover a lot.” He reached over and scrolled to a picture of him wearing panties and a bra, leaning on a light post. “See?”

  She laughed again. “You’re ridiculous. I can’t believe you did this.”

  “Then be ridiculous with me, baby. I love you. I’m sorry this happened, but it really will blow over.”

  She sighed heavily, and he set the phone on the blanket and took her hand in his.

  “Z, your reputation? The movie?”

  “I don’t care about my rep or if anyone buys me as a romantic hero, because the only person who needs to believe in me is you. I love you, Wills. You love me. A few embarrassing pictures can never change that. Nothing can.”

  “But I can’t live like this. I can’t be worried that my every move will be captured on film, or that skeletons will come out of my closet.”

  He arched a brow. “Are there more I should know about?”

  She rolled her eyes, and he had no intention of telling her how much he’d secretly come to love her eye rolls. They were very Willow.

  “No,” she answered. “But you know what I mean.”

  “I do. You don’t want to be in the spotlight. I get that. I’m sick of it, too. But even if I get out of acting, there will always be some adoring fans who want an autograph or a photographer who catches us sunbathing and snaps a shot. I can’t make it all go away, but I can try to protect you from it.”

  Her eyes warmed. “I know you’ll try.”

  “Then marry me, baby. Be ridiculous with me and loving and sexy and happy and sad and angry. Let me try to protect you from the craziness of it all. We’ve come so far. Don’t let anyone or anything steal our future. I don’t want to take another step without you.”

  “Z,” she whispered, and the struggle in her eyes told him how much she loved him regardless of whatever words followed. “Our lives are so far apart.”

  “No, baby. They were so far apart. I’m done in front of the camera. I’m over action movies, and I can’t pretend to be a romantic hero when the only person I want to romance is you. I love you with every ounce of my soul, Wills. You’re my other half. My best friend. You’re my everything, baby.”

  “I love you, too.” A tear slid down her cheek. “But I’m not as strong as you. I can’t live in LA. I can’t leave everyone I know and love.”

  “I know. That’s why I told your parents I’d buy the Grand Lady as soon as they find a place to live.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth. “You . . .” More tears tumbled down her cheeks.

  “You’re home to me, Wills. If you can’t live in LA, neither can I.”

  “But your career?”

  “We’ll figure it all out together. But I promise you I will never ask you to move away from Sweetwater.” He took her left hand in his. “What do you say, Wills? You and me forever, and maybe someday we’ll have little sugar-addicted babies with cocky attitudes and stubborn streaks.”

  Nodding emphatically, she threw herself into his arms. “Yes. Yes, Z. I want all of that. Life with you, stubborn babies . . . but I can’t be this selfish. If you need to be in LA, we’ll figure out a way.”

  “Be selfish, sweetheart. Be as selfish as you’d like.” In that moment, he knew that Willow’s happiness had become his purpose.

  He drew back and took her left hand in his, taking off the rented ring.

  She tried to pull her hand free, but he held tight. “I said yes.”

  “You hate this ring. It’s all wrong for you.” He withdrew a blue velvet bag from his pocket and turned her hand palm up.

  “The rented ring is for napoleons. It’s overdone and gaudy. You’re a sticky bun, baby. Sweet, savory, and so filling I only need one. You need a ring that’s just as perfect for your busy flour-and-frosting-laden days as you are
for me. I’ve spent this week trying to figure out what type of ring to give you.”

  “Week? You knew you were going to propose for a week?”

  He nodded. “Since the night at the lake, when you knocked down my walls, jumped inside, and locked the gate behind you, then got scared and hid in the tower, leaving me to nearly lose my mind.”

  That earned him the sweetest, most genuine smile he’d ever seen.

  “But every design I came up with paled in comparison to the one I had made for you with the money from my first acting job. The ring I had planned on giving you the Christmas after we’d first come together when we were mere babes in the woods.”

  “You were going to give me a ring?” Her breathing went shallow as she watched him empty the bag, and the braided white-gold ring with inlaid round-cut diamonds landed in her palm. “Oh my goodness. Z . . .”

  “Read the inscription. The inscription is new.”

  She picked it up with trembling fingers, and he aimed the flashlight on his phone so she could read it, hearing the words in his head as she silently read them.

  WILLS, YOU ARE MY MOMENT. Z

  She lifted damp and excruciatingly beautiful eyes to his. “You’ve always been my moment.”

  He slipped the ring on her finger. “No rules this time, baby, and no expectations beyond a loving future void of trickery.”

  Willow smiled. “And whipped cream. Don’t forget the whipped cream. And frosting. I love frosting.”

  “Frosting.” He pressed his lips to hers, feeling as though he could finally breathe.

  “And dirty talk,” she said as they lay down on the blanket. “I like when you talk dirty to me.”

  “I’ll do anything you want me to. Now can I please kiss you?”

  She pressed her hand to his chest. “Wait. You had a new oven installed at my bakery. I can’t accept that, Zane. You can’t keep doing big things like that.”

  He touched his forehead to hers, smiling at his stubborn beauty. “Wills, you know how you’ll always love sweets?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll always do things big, baby. Especially for you. So if you can’t live with that, please tell me now.” He rocked his hips against her, and her eyes widened.

  “Mm. I was wrong,” she said as he kissed her neck. “I do like it when you do things big. In fact, I love big.”

  There beneath the summer moon, in the place where they had first come together, on the blanket that once held their young, nubile bodies, they made love until the dawn of the new day.

  The dawn of their future.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “I DON’T NEED a party,” Willow insisted as she closed out the register. “I know you guys want to do this, but an engagement party seems silly since we’re getting married in three months. How about if we have joint bachelor and bachelorette parties?” It had been ten weeks since Willow and Zane had gotten engaged, and eight glorious weeks since Zane had come back to Sweetwater. Willow had never felt so complete in all her life, and she didn’t need a party as confirmation. She thought her mother was going to hound her about it, but her mother had understood. It was her sisters who had arrived at the bakery fifteen minutes before closing time to hassle her for the umpteenth time.

  Piper groaned. “Joint? Really?”

  “I like that idea,” Talia said. “It shows you’re a strong, committed couple.”

  “I agree.” Bridgette grabbed a rag and began wiping down the tables.

  Piper set her hands on her hips. “The old Bridgette would have given you hell for not taking advantage of your one last opportunity to be a wild, crazy single woman.”

  “Actually,” Bridgette said, “Willow did make me dance with Aiden, who was a magnificent specimen of a man. Perfect for Talia. So maybe we should have separate parties. With a stripper.”

  Willow laughed. “A stripper? You do know who I’m marrying, don’t you? Zane would tear apart any man who tried to strip in front of me. But I do love that you’re thinking along those lines. Maybe our risky sister isn’t gone after all.”

  “Payback, baby,” Bridgette said with a smirk.

  “Hell no, she’s not gone,” Piper said. “She just needs the right man to bring her back to life.”

  “I still don’t know what you didn’t like about Aiden,” Talia said. “Willow said he was gorgeous and successful, seemed well educated, and he was a proper gentleman.”

  “As she said, he was perfect for you, T,” Piper said. “We like our men a little naughtier.”

  Talia closed her notebook and raised her brows. “It’s the quiet ones who are usually the naughtiest.”

  Willow giggled. “Is that firsthand knowledge?”

  “Um . . .” Talia’s eyes darted away. “No. That’s what everyone says, though.”

  “She’s holding out on us, but she’ll never give up details, so . . .” Piper peered into the bakery box on the counter. “Whose delicious-looking pastries are these? They should be mine.”

  “A customer called in the order.” Willow organized the accoutrements behind the counter. “I didn’t recognize the name. Booker, I think. They were supposed to be here half an hour ago. You guys, is it crazy that I’m nervous about signing the papers on Mom and Dad’s house?” Their parents had received final approval on a smaller house, and tonight she and Zane were having dinner with them to sign the contract for the Grand Lady. Willow couldn’t believe the house she had grown up in and adored was really going to be theirs.

  “Perfectly normal, sis,” Talia assured her.

  “It’s no different from when you bought this space for the bakery.” Bridgette finished wiping down the tables and went to rinse out the sponge as Zane came through the door. “Except now you have a hunky almost husband to buy it with.”

  “I hope you’re talking about me. There’s my beautiful fiancée.” Zane wrapped his arms around Willow and kissed her.

  Piper tapped her chin with a teasing smile. “How does it feel to know you’re not lying when you call her your fiancée?”

  Willow’s sisters and parents had been annoyed with them for lying about the engagement, but it had blown over quickly. In the end, they understood why she and Zane had done it, but that didn’t stop Piper from razzing Zane every time she saw him.

  Zane kissed Willow again. “It feels fantastic. How does it feel to know you’re going to have a brother-in-law you can give shit to anytime you want?”

  “Better than fantastic,” Piper quipped.

  “How did the call with Steve go?” Zane and Steve were working out the final details of their contract so they could move forward with funding and finding talent for his screenplay. She’d never seen Zane happier than he’d been these last few weeks. She’d like to believe it was one hundred percent due to their relationship, but she knew the movement on his script played an enormous part in his feeling of fulfillment.

  “Great. We’re Skyping tomorrow to nail down the last of the loose ends. Are you almost done here? Want me to help with anything? We’re supposed to meet your parents in twenty minutes.”

  Zane was always willing to pitch in and help. He’d come down with her in the mornings and help her bake or work on his screenplay while she baked, but they’d end up making out and throw her entire morning off schedule so often she’d had to ask him to come down after customers began arriving. Most of the time, anyway.

  “I’ve got the bakery under control.”

  “Speaking of the bakery.” Piper pointed at the ceiling. “What are you going to do with your apartment after you move?”

  “Aurelia is ninety-nine percent sure she wants to go in on combining the bakery and bookstore. If she agrees, and if we can swing it financially—”

  “Which we can,” Zane interrupted.

  Willow poked him in the chest. “Stop. No bigness from you. Aurelia and I want to do this on our own.”

  Zane rolled his eyes, and Willow kissed him. “But I love your generosity.”

  He smacked her
butt. “I’ll keep my bigness to the bedroom.”

  “Hey! Sexpots!” Piper laughed. “Renovations?”

  “Oh, right. Sorry. We’re talking about building stairs that lead up to the second floor and making that into the bookstore, but lofting the ceiling so it doesn’t feel like a separate store.”

  Piper looking up at the ceiling, her eyes narrow. “Hand me some paper and a pencil.”

  “Here she goes.” Talia tore a piece of paper out of the notebook she was writing in and handed it to Piper, along with her pen. “I don’t have a pencil.”

  “It’s all good.” Piper bent over the table and began sketching the renovations.

  “Piper, we have to go meet Mom and Dad,” Willow said. “Can we do this another time? We don’t even know if it’s happening yet.”

  “Sure.” Piper hugged her. “Talia? Want to grab a bite at the café?”

  Talia gathered her things. “Definitely. I’m starved. See you guys later.”

  “What about the party planning?” Bridgette asked.

  “How about something small, Bridge?” Willow suggested. “Just family? At the house? Or maybe down at Harley’s?”

  “Okay. Let me think on it,” Bridgette answered.

  “What about Remi? You guys text all the time. And if it weren’t for Patch, you wouldn’t have come to the resort to meet me,” Zane pointed out.

  “And Aurelia,” Piper added. “She’d be pissed if she wasn’t invited. But you guys can figure that out. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Can you make whatever you made for that customer who didn’t pick up their stuff? Those look amazing.” She followed Talia out the door.

  “Oh, shoot. Z, give me five minutes to wrap this up?” She picked up the bakery box as a tall, dark, handsome stranger walked into the shop, and Bridgette’s jaw dropped open.

  “Hi. I’m Bodhi Booker. I called in an order. Sorry I’m late. I got lost.”

  “Hi. I’m Willow. I’m glad you made it in.”