CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
EXCITEMENT AND UNCERTAINTY rolled in with the clouds Sunday morning, and by midafternoon it felt like the whole town was holding its breath to see what would happen when Hollywood and Sweetwater collided. The first trucks arrived in the late afternoon, followed by a small bus and a few nondescript cars, each of which pulled onto the fairgrounds. Not into the parking lot, but onto the grass. “The crew”—that’s how Zane referred to them. The underlings who were tasked with showing up early to erect sets and prepare for the actors, directors, and other important people whose titles alone gave Willow an unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach. She drew upon the midair picnic she and Zane had enjoyed the other night. When it feels overwhelming, I want you to think of this moment. It seemed their relationship was made up of moments she never wanted to forget.
Zane had been with the crew most of the afternoon, while Willow, along with half the town’s residents, had watched from afar as trailers pulled onto the lot, tents were erected, and a handful of people wearing headsets and carrying clipboards traipsed through the town “spotting locations.”
Willow locked the door to the bakery and sank down to a chair beside Talia, who had come by to hang out while she graded papers. “At least you and Zane won’t be the talk of the town anymore. I swear I fielded more questions in my classes about what Zane was really like than I did about the actual lessons. Now people will be gossiping about the movie instead.”
“True. Although I have to admit, Zane did a great job of keeping the onlookers at bay.”
Talia set down her pen and studied Willow. Of all her sisters, Talia was the one who took the most time to tend to her appearance. Her thick, dark brows were perfectly shaped, like Liz Taylor’s, which made her eyes pop. Her makeup was flawless, and Willow knew she threw it on in a matter of seconds, like she had been a makeup artist in a previous life. A brilliant makeup artist, given her genius IQ. Talia was taller than Willow and their other sisters. At five nine, the girl who had once been as lanky as an asparagus stalk had turned into one of those women who could wear anything, though she almost always leaned toward the professional side, whereas Willow preferred comfort over anything else.
“He’s really changed, hasn’t he?” Talia asked.
Willow smiled. She’d been thinking the same thing last night when she and Zane had taken a walk around the lake.
“I think it’s less about changing and maybe more about finding comfort in being himself again. His real self. Have you ever felt like you’ve known someone your whole life, truly knew them, but you were the only one who did? Zane is exactly the guy I’ve always known he was.” She put her hand over her heart. “Here, I mean. Not when we’ve seen him over the years when he was snarky and putting on a show.”
Talia leaned across the table with a curious expression. “What was it like? When you and Zane first realized you wanted to see if this would work. What was that like? I keep trying to picture it, but you’ve always been so . . . I don’t know. Careful around him? Sassy toward him? Those two things conflict, but you seemed to be both around Zane.”
Leave it to her astute sister to ask the one question that could nail Willow to the wall with her lie. A string of guilt wound around her neck at the prospect of deceiving Talia again.
“It was maddening, exciting, and scary as hell.” Wow, that wasn’t a lie.
Talia’s eyes narrowed as she sat back. “I don’t think I could do it.”
“Be with Zane? I hope not, considering he’s with me,” Willow teased. Talia was careful with the men she dated. She and Willow had never shared secrets the way Bridgette and Willow did. Willow and her other sisters had tried to pry details from Talia after her dates, but she was tighter-lipped than a zipper.
Talia laughed. “No. Be with someone with that public of a wild past. I mean, I love Zane. You know that. But I remember him as the funny kid who hung out with Ben, which makes it easier to look past all the other stuff.”
“You know what, T? I can honestly say that I’ve never been with any man who makes me smile and quiver and laugh and cry—in a good way, of course—as much as Zane. I’m terrified of what will happen when he goes back to California, but I’m just as afraid of what will happen if he doesn’t. He could resent me if he moves away from the place he’s lived for so long. But the media would drive me crazy if I moved there, and I’m afraid of gorgeous fans pawing at him all the time. I’ve never been a jealous person, but with him, it’s hard not to be.” She sighed. “Believe me, I know there’s a lot to be afraid of. But there’s so much goodness. I wake up and see the man I never realized was one of my best friends. Nothing beats that.”
“Well, we all knew that. Before you opened the bakery, you texted him to ask his opinion.”
“Yeah,” she said absently. “See? I never really thought of us like that. Zane was just . . .” The boy I fell in love with and could never let go of. “Zane. But now I see our relationship more clearly. And even though there’s all that scary stuff floating around, I trust him. I really, truly trust him. He looks at me like he wants to disappear into me. I don’t know where we’ll end up, or if I’ll slaughter Remi Divine the first time they kiss, but I know I want to be with him.”
“Geez. That’s a whole different level of things I could never do.”
Willow shrugged, though her insides were twisting into pretzels. “I knew he was an actor when we got involved. What kind of person would I be if I got jealous of his costars?” She pushed to her feet and went to the pastry display. “Seriously. So what if Remi is gorgeous, and rich, and going to thrust her tongue down his throat?” She took out a tray of Loverboys and shoved one in her mouth. She held it up, offering Talia one.
“No, thanks, but I can see how well you’re handling the idea.”
“Hey, whatever it takes, right?” She returned to the table with a glass of water and her pastry. “I’m meeting Zane and his assistant, Patch, at Dutch’s for drinks and dinner in a little while. Want to go? I asked Bridge to go with me, but she couldn’t.”
Zane had texted earlier to say he and Patch were in his trailer in case she needed him, which she’d found very thoughtful. Apparently all the A-listers needed their own trailers, despite the fact that Zane was staying at Willow’s apartment just down the block. She guessed that made sense, so he had a place to go between scenes, though it still seemed like an excessive and unnecessary expense to her. Then again, what did she know about the movie business? She was having a hard time reconciling the guy who had made a point of being in the bakery yesterday morning at eight o’clock sharp just to take a walk with Sam so he could check the decking on Sam’s house, which Sam had mentioned was in need of repair, with an A-list actor who needed special accommodations. Zane had once again become Z, the guy she’d fallen for years ago, only now he’d recaptured her heart with a vengeance.
Talia gathered her things. “I don’t think so, sorry. I have a lot of papers to grade.” She leaned down and kissed Willow’s cheeks. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks. I wish you’d reconsider joining us. Maybe you’ll meet someone nice.”
Talia wrinkled her nose. “You know I don’t love bars. Good luck catering tomorrow.”
After Talia left, Willow double-checked the ingredients and recipes for the next morning, finished cleaning up, and finally went upstairs to shower and change.
An hour later she stood at the entrance of Harley Dutch’s pub, feeling ridiculously nervous. She’d taken far too long to choose an outfit, even though she knew Zane wouldn’t care what she wore. She looked down at her black skinny jeans, blousy white spaghetti-strap top, and flirty, strappy red heels. She was overdressed for Dutch’s Pub and overdressed for her. But after her conversation with Talia, she felt the need to measure up. She hated that feeling, but she’d be damned if she’d sit in the pub wishing she’d dressed sexier when women were ogling her man.
“You just going to stand there looking pretty, or are you going in?” Piper reached for the door.
Willow startled. “Where did you come from?”
“Well, you see, baby sister, when two people love each other—”
“You’re such a pain.” She followed Piper into the dimly lit bar. Music filled the air, and the scent of alcohol and relief from the end of a long day surrounded them.
“A pain that’s saving your butt. Bridgette called and said you were nervous about showing up by yourself.” Piper flashed a cheesy smile. “I’m never nervous. I’ve got your back. I even put on respectable clothes.”
“Oh my God, I love you,” Willow whispered, quickly glancing at Piper’s off-the-shoulder white top and tight jeans with fashionable worn spots on the thighs and knees. “You look amazing. I wish I didn’t have to wear a bra. You’re so lucky, and I am way too nervous.” Standing just inside the door, she fidgeted with the neckline of her blouse. “Is this too low-cut?”
Piper laughed. “Don’t you think it’s funny that we wish we had each other’s bodies? You’re gorgeous, and your man apparently thinks so, too.” She nodded toward Zane, heading in their direction with a proprietary look in his eyes.
“God, Pipe. My heart is going crazy over him.”
“Please don’t drool,” Piper said. “It’s embarrassing.”
“Hey, Piper,” Zane said as he slid a hand around Willow’s waist. “Thanks for your help with the lights the other day.”
“No prob.” Piper glanced at Patch. “Who’s that tatted-up morsel over there?”
“That’s Patch. Zane’s assistant,” Willow explained.
“Damn.” Piper ran her fingers through her hair. “Scruffy, tatted, with a face like chiseled granite, and only in town temporarily. He might be the perfect man. Mind if I take your seat at the bar, Zane? You do owe me one.”
She was already on her way to the bar when Zane said, “Who am I to stand in your way?”
He leaned down for a kiss and wrapped his arms around Willow’s waist, giving her his full attention. “Hey, beautiful. I missed you today.”
“I missed you, too. Piper helped you?”
“She made the wooden sign hanging from your balcony and helped me string the lights. She was pretty cool. I think I’m growing on her.” He eyed the people around them. “Every man in here is checking you out in those sexy heels and skintight pants. It should be illegal to look that sinful.”
She laughed, but inside she was gobbling up his praise. “Hardly. They’re probably checking you out. Buy me a drink before Piper scares Patch away.”
“Congratulations, soon-to-be Mrs. Walker.” Patch stepped from the stool and hugged Willow. He was as tall as Zane, with colorful tattoo sleeves, a few days’ scruff, and shaggy brown hair. With his low-riding jeans and gray T-shirt, he looked like he’d just climbed off his motorcycle or belonged in a hipster café.
“Yeah, about that.” She lowered her voice so Piper wouldn’t hear her, although her sister was busy talking with Harley. “I have a bone to pick with you, Patrick Carter.”
Patch sat on the stool between her and Piper.
“I’m going to run to the men’s room while you two catch up.” Zane gave her a chaste kiss and headed for the rear of the bar.
“Hey,” Patch said, holding his hands up, “I only do what I’m told by the big man. But for the record”—he leaned closer—“when he came up with this crazy scheme, I suggested he ask someone else because you two are such good friends. But Zane would have no part of it. I guess it all worked out for the best.”
“Wait. What do you mean he came up with it? What about all that stuff about cleaning up his rep and the focus group?” She stole another glance at Piper. Harley was leaning across the bar, saying something for Piper’s ears only, and Willow wondered if what Bridgette had said was true.
“That’s true. They wanted him to act like he had a long-term girlfriend, lie low on the social scene. But the whole”—he lowered his voice to a whisper—“fake fiancée thing was his idea.”
“I’m so confused.” She wasn’t sure if she should be flattered that Zane only wanted her, or hurt that he’d led her to believe this ruse was a necessity.
Patch turned his back to Piper and spoke fast. “He needed to clean up his rep, but he refused to spend any length of time with any woman but you. There was never any question, Willow. It was you or no one, which makes perfect sense. I mean, whose picture does he have in his bedroom?”
Her mouth dropped open. Her picture was in his bedroom? Just like in the story he’d told her about their fake trip to Washington.
“You didn’t know?”
She shook her head. “I bet all those other girls loved that.”
“What are you talking about? It’s like we’re talking about two different guys. He never takes women to his house.” His eyes widened. “Wait. I assumed you’d been there. No?”
“I hadn’t even been on a plane until the other night. Besides, I’d probably get lost in his mansion.”
Patch laughed. “If he had one, maybe. He could own five mansions, but he lives in a modest three-bedroom home tucked away from everything.”
He glanced over her shoulder just as she felt Zane’s hand land on it. She bristled, and hated herself for it. Her head was spinning, and not just because of what she’d learned about the fake engagement or the photograph, but also because the impression she’d had of Zane had been all wrong. They needed to talk, but she couldn’t exactly drag him away from Patch.
“Is this guy bugging you, babe?” Zane kissed her cheek and climbed onto the stool beside her.
Willow managed a smile. “No. I’m good.” She leaned over the bar. “Harley? Can I get a whiskey? Neat?”
“Uh-oh.” Piper leaned around Patch. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just thirsty.”
Piper and Zane exchanged a disbelieving look.
Harley puffed out his massive chest and set her drink across the bar, eyeing Patch and Zane. “Everything cool here, Willow?”
If by “cool” you mean I feel like I’ve been shaken up and uncorked. Yeah. Totally cool. “Yes, thank you.”
“NOW I’M IN a quandary.” Piper’s eyes moved between Willow and Patch, making Zane’s gut clench. “I’ve got this hot guy sitting next to me who should be buying me a drink. But based on the fact that my sister has just downed her I’m-so-pissed-or-confused-I-can’t-see-straight drink, I’m thinking I might need to deck you. Which would be a total shame, given that you have such a handsome face.”
What did I miss? “All right. What the hell’s going on? Patch? Willow? Someone’s going to give me the lowdown.”
“There is no lowdown.” Willow slid off the stool and took his hand. “I was nervous about seeing you kiss your leading lady, and the drink took the edge off. Now dance with me so Patch can buy Piper a drink.”
She dragged him to the dance floor and wound her arms around his neck, but he could feel tension in her body.
“Wills, what just happened?”
“I’m not sure, so dance with me to keep me from overreacting.” She smiled up at him, but it wasn’t his girl’s smile. It was a troubled smile, and it reached into his gut and fisted around his insides even as her lush curves moved against him, creating sensation overload on both ends of the spectrum.
“You’re killing me here. Did Patch say or do something inappropriate?” Patch had worked for Zane for the past six years, and he trusted him explicitly.
“No.” She rested her face on his chest.
That should be enough to take away the worry, but it wasn’t. “Sweetheart, look at me.”
She lifted her beautiful green eyes, and it was all right there, clear as day. Hurt and confusion. He took her hand and stalked toward the bar.
“Patch, are you okay to find your way back?”
“I’ll make sure he gets home okay,” Piper offered.
Harley glared at Patch. “I can give him directions.”
Piper rolled her eyes.
She was a big girl and could deal with that situation. Zane needed to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering Willow. He cut a path through the crowd and pushed out the door. The brisk night air heightened his senses.
“Talk to me, Wills.”
A breeze swept off the water, and she pushed her body closer to his like a heat-seeking missile. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. A quick sweep of the parking lot told him she’d walked to Dutch’s. He headed up the hill, away from the marina.
“I’m not sure where to start.” She shoved her hands in the front pockets of her jeans.
“How about with whatever ticked you off, because you’re sending me mixed signals and we don’t do mixed signals. We do black-and-white. No matter how messed up whatever it is gets, we talk about shit.”
She pulled away, and he grabbed her hand, lacing it with his, and tugged her back to his side.
“You don’t get to pull away when I have no idea what I did wrong.”
She stopped walking and glared at him. “You told me the focus group demanded this whole thing.”
“Yeah, and?”
“And they didn’t. Patch told me, Zane.”
“What are you talking about? Patch knows they said I had to clean up my rep. He must have been messing with you, but I don’t know why he would.”
She tugged her hand free, and he snatched it back.
“I lost you once over miscommunication. I’m not losing you again over bullshit, Willow.”
“You’re not losing me.” She stormed up the road. “I just want to understand.”
“Help me out here, Wills. Give it to me piece by piece, okay? The focus group said I had to clean up my reputation. That’s one hundred percent true. I came up with this plan to stage an engagement—”
“You came up with it. With me,” she huffed.
“Yes. With you. We’re on the same page. What’s next?”
“Ugh!”
He hauled her against him. Her jaw was tight, her brows pulled together, and he was afraid to let her go. “Willow, baby. I have loved you since you first stormed off in a huff. You were fifteen when you learned to do that hip-jaunt-scowl thing you do. I knew then that I wanted that sweet side of you and the fierce, determined, demanding side. I wanted all of you then, and I want it even more now. So if you think I’ll give up because you get angry, you’re wrong. I don’t care how rough things get, or how many times I look like I’m thickheaded. Because I am thickheaded. I’m not giving up on us, so please, spell this out for me.”
Her eyes warmed. Thank fucking God.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you thought up the fake engagement?”
“I told you they demanded I clean up my act.”
“The. Fake. Engagement. Specifically.”
“The . . .” Holy shit. Had he omitted that he’d come up with the idea? “It wasn’t intentional. I never said the focus group came up with the fake engagement, did I? I’m a lot of things, but since we said we would be one hundred percent honest with each other, I haven’t lied. And I’m not lying now.”
Her shoulders dropped, and she sighed.
“Think about it, Wills. Did I ever say they demanded anything other than that I had to clean up my rep? Because if I did, I deserve to be reamed. And maybe I do anyway for being so focused on getting you to agree that I forgot to mention that part. Or for being so wrapped up in trying to win you over ever since, that I never clarified. But I promise you that I didn’t purposefully keep it from you. Why would I do that?”
“Patch said you told him that if I wouldn’t do it, you wouldn’t go through with it,” she said less angrily.
He reached for her hand. “May I?”
“Yes, of course.”
He took her hand, and they headed down Main Street. “What Patch said is true. I couldn’t stand the thought of spending day after day with anyone else.”
She stopped and toed off her sandals. “These things kill my feet.”
“You don’t need them. You could be barefoot and wearing rags and you’d still be the most beautiful woman on earth.” He picked up her sandals and pressed his lips to her cheek. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to mislead you.”
“Z, I don’t want to worry that you’re tricking me. You’re too good at it.”
He pulled her against his side as they walked past the hardware store. “And I don’t want to worry about losing you, which is why I will never trick you again. I love you, Wills. I wasn’t trying to deceive you. Well, at first, the whole cupcake gig was a trick, but not this. This was a mistake.”
“Can we keep walking?”
“Until the cows come home.” He didn’t care that he had to be on set at seven in the morning, or that he needed to study his lines one more time. All of that was meaningless if he lost Willow. “I promise I’ll pay closer attention to everything I say.”
“I know it wasn’t intentional,” she said softly, looking at the engagement ring with a thoughtful expression. “But it still hurts to think any amount of this was a trick. I kind of want to be the girl you wanted all along.”
He felt flayed open knowing he’d caused that pain, and Sam’s question rang through his mind. What’s your purpose? She was right there beside him, and in that moment his world shifted, as did his goal.
“You are that girl, Wills. You’re my only girl. You know the truth, baby. If you hadn’t agreed, I wouldn’t have done a damn thing to clean up my rep. Remember at the resort when you needed the tequila to get the courage to kiss me? Maybe this ruse was what we both needed to let go of everything else. We’re right for each other. We’re each other’s only one. We always have been.”
They walked in silence for a few minutes, and when they reached the fairgrounds, they crossed the street and sat on the bench overlooking the lake and all the tents and trailers. He’d entrenched himself in reality with Willow, and it was a struggle to muster the desire to dive back into acting again. For the first time since he’d left Sweetwater all those years ago, he felt grounded and happy. Truly, deeply happy. He didn’t want anything to come between him and Willow, least of all a mistake of omission.
Willow rested her head on his shoulder, and the broken pieces of his heart began to heal.
“It looks like a campground,” she said softly. “Are the actual sets more glamorous?”
“No. There’s nothing glamorous about a film set. It’s like any other job, where a bunch of people are trying to make things operate as expected. It’s stressful. There are always too many people giving directions, and I’ll spend a lot of my time in the trailer just waiting to be called to the set.” He looked around, feeling the same way he knew Willow did. Like their quaint small town had been overrun by outsiders.
“It all starts tomorrow, Wills. Sixteen-hour days, overinflated egos, and the pressure to be what everyone out there wants to see.”
“Don’t forget kissing Remi Divine.”
His chest constricted. The arc of her voice told him she was teasing, but he was already dreading kissing another woman, whether it was a fictional kiss or not.
He took Willow’s face in his hands and gazed into her eyes. “How did this happen?”
“What?”
“How did I fall so hopelessly in love with you that even the thought of having my mouth on someone else pisses me off?”
Her lips curved up in a sweet smile. “Don’t give me lines, Z.”
“No lines, baby. I promised only truths, remember?” He rose to his feet and brought her up with him.
She put her arms around his neck and went up on her toes. “Maybe I should wear out your mouth so you can’t kiss her.”
He lowered his mouth to hers in a kiss hot enough to join metal. “Home, baby,” he said between kisses, loving the way the word home felt so right. “I need to be closer to you.”
They kissed as they ran across the cobblestone street. Laughed as they stumbled up the back steps to her apartment, stopping only to deepen their kisses. They tore off their clothes on the way to the bedroom and tumbled down to the bed, breathless and greedy. He claimed her mouth again, fumbling blindly for a condom in his refusal to break their connection.
“Hurry,” she said against his lips.
He reluctantly broke away to sheath himself.
Trailing her delicate fingers up the outsides of his thighs with a sexy smile on her lips and love in her eyes, she said, “I love that there was only me.”
He laced their hands together as he came down over her and kissed her again. Their bodies fit together like each was the only person on earth who could complete the other, moving in perfect harmony. They gazed into each other’s eyes, and years of love wound around them, bringing the truth once again.
“I love that there will only ever be you.”
Willow was his.
Willow was home.