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 arched 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.”
Piper leaned closer to Willow and whispered, “This is all Mom’s doing.” Then louder, “I have an estimate to give in ten minutes. I need to boogie. Thanks for breakfast.” She grabbed a muffin and headed for the door.
“And I need to open my shop. You know your fiancé called me about the roses, but I didn’t have the stock to fill your bakery with them.” Bridgette raised her brows and said, “The guy’s got serious game, sis.”
Louie kissed Bridgette. “’Bye, Mommy.”
“Bridge, take the body butter,” Willow pleaded while Bridgette fussed over her little man.
“No way.” Bridgette headed out of the kitchen. “If too many Zane seekers come by and drive you crazy, text me and I’ll come save you.”
“Thanks, Bridge. Don’t blame me if your phone starts vibrating like a”—she looked at her mother—“phone.”
Roxie laughed. “Honey, I really can finish the baking.”
Willow closed her eyes for a second, breathing deeply and trying to channel her inner calm.
Her mother chuckled and reached a hand out to Louie. “Come on, sugarplum. Let’s go work in the garden and leave Auntie Willow to her baking.” On the way out the door, Roxie lowered her voice and said to Louie, “Maybe tomorrow she’ll let us take over.”
Willow grabbed a doughnut and shoved it in her mouth to keep from accepting her mother’s offer and hightailing it upstairs to be with Zane.
ZANE TRIED TO give Willow space so she didn’t feel smothered, but every minute was a test of his willpower. She’d kept him at arm’s length for so many years, he wanted to soak up as much time with her as possible. A brief phone call with Jacob told him that his threat had helped, but after going for a run, studying his lines, and weeding through e-mails, he couldn’t stay away another minute.
The bell over the bakery door rang, and Willow looked up from where she was bent over the counter. Her hair was pulled back in a long braid, making her damp green eyes look even more devastating. She dabbed at them with a wad of napkins, her lips curving up in a strained smile.
Zane’s heart lurched as he closed the distance between them, vaguely aware of the customers sitting at the table saying hello to him as he passed. “What’s wrong?”
She pushed from the counter and waved his screenplay at him. “This. Z . . . ?”
“It’s that bad? I knew it was rough, but—”
“Shut up. Rough?” She thrust the papers against his chest, and a tear slid down her cheek. “This is heartbreaking, and beautiful, and suspenseful. It’s not at all what I expected.”
“Thanks?” He wiped her tears with the pad of his thumb and kissed her softly. In a blue T-shirt and cutoffs, she looked deliciously sexy. “I missed you, and you nearly gave me a heart attack. I thought something had happened.”
“Something did happen.” She inhaled deeply and shook her head.
“She’s been crying the whole time I’ve been here.” A gray-haired woman rose from one of the tables and smiled. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
“I’m sorry. It’s been a long time,” Zane answered.
“I’ll give you a hint. You brought me groceries and cut my lawn after my husband left.” She pulled her purse over her shoulder, and recognition dawned on him.
“I’ll be right back,” he said to Willow, and came around the counter, unable to believe his eyes. “Mrs. Gerstone?” He had cut her lawn and brought her groceries from the time he was thirteen until he left town for good. She had been so heavy for all those years, she could barely walk. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.”
“It’s funny what losing a hundred and thirty pounds does to a person’s appearance. And their health.” She touched his cheek. Her palm was cool against his face. “You were my inspiration. Bless you, Zane.”
“Me?”
“Oh yes. I buried my unhappiness about the hand I’d been dealt in food. You used yours for motivation. And look where you are now.” She looked at Willow and then back at Zane, who was floored by her admission. “Engaged to our Willow, the kindest woman in all of Sweetwater.”
Willow came around the counter. “She’s only saying that because I make her special nonfat muffins and sugar-free tarts.”
“Bless you both,” Mrs. Gerstone said. “I’m glad you never forgot your roots, Zane. You always were a nice boy.”
They talked for a minute longer, and after she left Willow said, “You know what you said about my family knowing the real you?”
“Yeah.”
“I think the people here know the real you, too.” She looked down at the screenplay as they walked back to the counter. “But after reading this, I wonder how much of you I really know. You blew me away. You’re brash and cocky, but this . . . this is . . .” She nibbled on her lower lip, a deep V forming between her brows. “It’s raw and passionate. I don’t know anything about the streets of Chicago, but this boy . . .” She lifted her eyes to him again. “How did you come up with this story? You have to make this into a movie.”
“Says my very biased fiancée.”
“Zane, if it sucked I wouldn’t encourage you to share it with anyone else.” She hooked her finger into his belt loop. “But it’s incredible. I don’t know how you get scripts made into movies, but can you show it to your director or something?”
“I’m on the fence with showing it to anyone in the industry, and honestly, I want to be the one to produce it if I do decide to go in that direction.” He’d been wrestling with this since the spring and still didn’t have enough faith in his writing to do anything with it. But her support gave him a modicum of hope that it really didn’t suck.
Her eyes bloomed wide. “That’s awesome. You should totally do it.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that.”
She began wiping down the counter. He grabbed a washcloth and helped, speaking in hushed tones so the customers didn’t hear him.
“Right now I’m on top of my game, babe. But you’ve heard the stories about actors who try to become producers or directors, and when their film flops, it overshadows everything else.”
She stopped wiping down the counter, her eyes flat, her mouth pressed into a firm line. “Zane Walker, you walked out of Podunk Sweetwater with zero experience and made your way to the top of the action-hero list, and you’re going to let something like what could happen stop you from doing something bigger?” She smirked. “Guess you’re not the man I thought you were.”
He sidled up to her, gathering her close, and guided her to the pastry display, blocking the customers’ view of them. “I think I proved what kind of man I am last night.” He slid his hands to her butt and squeezed, earning an adorable squeak from Willow. “I’d be happy to show you right here and now that I’m far more of a man than you ever imagined.”
“What if I say okay?”
He bit her earlobe, and she made an enticing sound of appreciation. “Then I’ll kick out these customers and take you into the back room, strip you bare, and make you come so many times you won’t remember your name.”
Her breath rushed from her lungs. “You’re so bad,” she whispered, tightening her hands on his waist. “I like it a lot, but seriously, you need to show the screenplay to Sam Shearson or you’re never getting any again.”
He drew back, gazing into her amused eyes. “Who the heck is Sam Shearson, and why does he own the rights to our bedroom activity?”
“He won an Academy Award in 1962 for a screenplay, and if you’re afraid it’s not good enough to show anyone in the industry,” she explained, “he can tell you if it is or not. He’s a retired fisherman, not even remotely in your business, and he comes in every morning at eight o’clock sharp.”
“Wait, we have an Academy Award–winning writer in Sweetwater?” He raked a hand through his hair. “How could I not know that?”
She began wiping down the counter again. “Because he’s eighty-five years old and you were busy being a kid when you lived here. I didn’t meet him until I opened the bakery.” A dreamy look came over her. “He’s a total banana nut muffin.”
“Um . . . ?”
“Oh.” She laughed softly. “You know how people say that if you have a dog, at some point you start to resemble them?”
“I guess . . .”
“Well, you’d be surprised how much people resemble the foods they order. Every morning Sam orders a banana nut muffin, and let me tell you, he is exactly that. He’s been around forever, he’s stable—banana nut muffin recipes rarely vary by much—and he’s substantial. You know, smart and interesting to talk to, as opposed to, say, a date roll. If you see someone order a date roll, run like hell.”
She cocked her head like she’d just made perfect sense, and he couldn’t help but think she had it all figured out and he was the one grasping at straws.
“Sam’s here every morning like clockwork, so make sure you’re here tomorrow at eight a.m. sharp or no nookie for you.”
He leaned in and kissed her. “You’re a pushy woman. Do you know how much I adore you?”
“We’ll see how much tomorrow morning. Oh, I forgot to tell you. I think I picked up a new wedding cake order. I have a tasting scheduled next week, and I got the menus from Payton. Gluten free, sugar free, nut free. No citrus, no red dye, no white flour. Not my favorite, but I’ll make it happen. I’m going to send her a box of my pastries so she knows what I’m capable of when not hamstrung by dietary issues. Thank you for arranging the catering. I really do appreciate it.”
The bell above the door sounded, and a young woman with two adorable blond-haired little girls walked in. Excitement rose in Willow’s voice. “How are my favorite marble and chocolate chip cookie girls?”
“Willow!” The girls ran toward the counter as Willow came around and crouched with open arms. Both girls slammed into her, hugging her tightly as she laughed.
“I have gone a whole eight days without seeing you.” Willow’s eyes shimmered with delight. “Where have you been hiding?”
“We went to see Uncle Buck in Washington,” the taller of the two girls said. “He’s getting married.”
“Is he, now?”
The girls nodded vehemently as Willow rose to her feet and hugged the girls’ mother.
“And I hear congratulations are in order for you, too,” the woman said.
Willow flashed a look of surprise at Zane. Get used to it, baby, because this is really happening.
“Thank you,” Willow said. “I’m still not used to the idea that everyone knows about it. We only got engaged this past weekend. But I guess that goes with the territory of being engaged to Zane.” She stole another glance at him, inciting the heat of a laser beam.
Oh yeah, he’d be meeting Sam Shearson tomorrow. He’d do anything she wanted him to.
The girls reached for Willow’s hands, and she knelt again, putting her arms around them. Zane’s heart thudded a little harder. He hadn’t spent much time thinking beyond winning Willow over, but he needed to. Willow’s life was here, with the business she’d built and the people who loved her. If he wanted Willow, he had to do more than earn her trust. He had to be willing to come back to Sweetwater for good.