CHAPTER NINETEEN
IT WAS BOUND to happen at some point. Willow hadn’t known when or how, but she’d assumed she’d eventually meet Remi Divine. She just hadn’t expected it to be Tuesday evening at eight o’clock while she was sitting on the steps of Zane’s trailer in a pair of shorts and one of his T-shirts tied at the waist like an eighties girl at a creek party, drinking a Kinky Pink cocktail and eating all the frosting off a dozen cupcakes. With her fingers. She smiled up at the Natalie Portman lookalike, who was even more gorgeous in person than on the big screen.
“Hi.” Did that sound too perky? Not perky enough? Like I’m as lame as a drunken duck at the moment? She’d had a hell of a day at the bakery. The oven that had been on its last leg had died, leaving her with one, which was fine most days but would cause a crunch with her next big event. She’d called the distributor, but the model she wanted couldn’t be installed for another four weeks. She pushed to her feet and held out a hand.
Remi, who was in full makeup with her hair tied back in some kind of complicated knot and wearing a cute little silky robe and heels, glanced down at Willow’s hand with a disgusted expression.
Oh shit. Willow realized she’d been sucking frosting off her index finger when Remi had approached, and quickly pulled back her hand, wiping it on her back pocket. “Sorry! Um, hi. I’m—”
Remi lifted her adorable and slightly pointy chin, and in a voice as rich as dark chocolate said, “I know who you are. Willow Dalton. Zane’s fiancée.” She said fiancée as if it were a dirty word.
Willow’s stomach sank, but she wasn’t about to let a snooty actress make her feel bad about herself or how she felt about Zane. She lifted her own perfect chin and squared her shoulders, meeting Remi’s serious gaze. Jesus, did the woman even know how to smile, or was that a trick of the camera? She emitted sweetness like syrup on pancakes on the big screen.
“Yes, that’s right.” Willow held out her left hand, flashing the gaudy ring, which earned an appreciative “Hm” from Remi.
“You’re waiting for him.” It wasn’t a question. She walked with the grace of a swan and the coolness of a movie star to the steps of the trailer and sat her tiny ass down, patting the space beside her.
Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Willow sat next to her. “I’d offer you a drink, but all I have are these.” She held up the six-pack. “Kinky Pink, ‘an irresistible combo of mango, passion fruit, and blood orange flavors that’s so good it’s naughty.’”
Remi arched a thinly manicured brow.
“That’s . . . It’s their tagline. Sorry, my small-townness is showing.”
A smile split Remi’s properly painted lips, and a soft laugh escaped.
“Cool. You do know how to smile.” Willow’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head, and she felt her cheeks burn so hot she thought they might actually release steam. “I’m sorry. That just slipped out. Oh my God. I’m sorry. I just—”
“I think I will have that drink, thank you.” Remi reached across her and grabbed a bottle. “Do you share your cupcakes, or are those for your fingers only?”
Willow was stunned into silence.
“Hm? I’m going to take that as sharing, because I’m frigging starved.” Remi grabbed a cupcake and licked the frosting right off. “You can breathe now. I’m a normal person.”
The breath Willow hadn’t realized she’d been holding rushed from her lungs.
“I was just trying to see if you were like the usual fangirls who knock around with the actors. The two of you are all over the Internet. The newest, hottest couple. At least they’ve kept the bloodhounds away from the set.” She looked down at the drink and the cupcake and handed the bottle to Willow. “Can you please help me open this while you find your voice? If I ruin my nails, I have to sit in the chair for another half hour.”
Willow uncapped the bottle and handed it back to Remi, taking a long swig of her own, feeling like she had just been whirled in a blender and the world was still spinning.
Remi lifted her cupcake like she was toasting and took a drink. “I’ll pay for this tomorrow. Can’t afford the extra pounds.” She rolled her eyes and bit into the cupcake. “Oh my Lord. This is the bomb!”
Willow smiled. Baked items were the ultimate equalizer. “Thank you. I haven’t seen you at the craft services tent in the mornings.”
“The camera is very unforgiving. I don’t eat much while filming, but after the day I had, I need this. I’m not on camera again until late tomorrow, so I have time to get it out of my system, detox and dehydrate again. Tricks of the trade.”
“Sounds fun,” Willow teased, feeling more like herself again. “Anytime you need a good sugar fix, hit me up. My bakery, Sweetie Pie, is right down the street.”
“Thanks. But do you deliver outside Sweetwater to other rural New York locations or Cape Cod? Because when I’m not filming, that’s where I am. As my alter ego, of course, and I rarely leave my house.” She took another swig of her drink and eyed the bottle. “This is awesome, too. I’ve never had it.”
“It’s cheap and fruity. I’m not surprised.” Oh, damn, was she going to put her foot in her mouth all night? “I’m sorry. I’m still a little rattled to be sitting here with Remi Divine. And yes, I will deliver wherever you are, under whatever name you use.”
Remi smiled and took another swig of her drink. “Probably just as rattled as I am to be sitting with you.”
“Please.” Willow laughed and grabbed a cupcake.
“It’s just as nerve-racking for actors as it is for people outside the industry. Will I be hated because of my looks or celebrity, or worse, will people like me only for those reasons? Zane must have told you that.”
“Zane and I don’t actually talk about the industry very much. I’ve known him since we were kids. So to me, he’s just funny, sweet, smart, and smart-ass Zane. I haven’t thought about those things. That has to be tough.” Gazing down at the blue frosting on the cupcake, she remembered waking up in his arms on the couch that morning and realized that what she’d said wasn’t true.
“Actually, Zane’s much more to me than just anything,” Willow clarified. “I don’t mean to negate his acting, because clearly he’s incredible at his job. But I love the man he is, and it wouldn’t matter what he did for a living.”
Remi sighed. “I envy you. As I said, I never know if a guy likes me for me or for who they think I am.” She finished her drink and grabbed another.
“I can see how that would be frustrating.”
“I have to kiss your fiancé,” Remi said softly. “I figured you’d pretty much hate me because of that.”
“So did I.” Willow laughed. “But you’re not exactly hateable, and kissing you is his job.”
“So, you’re not jealous?”
“Wicked jealous. And so freaking more jealous now that I’ve met you. I mean, if you could ugly it up a bit, that would be good.” Willow waved her hand toward Remi’s robe. “And maybe wear a snowsuit or something.”
Remi laughed.
“I could pull a few of your teeth with pliers. That would help, too.”
Remi covered her mouth. “My teeth?”
“You don’t really need them anyway.” Willow took another drink and smiled at Remi. “I’m female, so yeah, I’m jealous. But I want you to nail that scene and show the world how amazing the two of you are. And now I’m going to change the subject, because I have to picture something other than you two in a lip-lock or I’ll lose my mind.”
“Just so you know, I hate kissing scenes. Truly hate them. I’ve had nightmares about him pulling away and saying I suck at kissing. So, yes, please change the subject. Quickly.”
“You have not!”
“Have to. Subject change, please.”
Laughing, Willow asked the first thing that came to mind. “How did you get into acting?”
“It’s a weird story.” Remi took off her heels and stretched her toes. “My brother had a friend who said his uncle was in the industry back in the day and well connected. He said he could get me into the business. It all happened so fast. We met at a party, and the next day he brought me to meet his uncle, who took me to meet his colleagues. It turned out he was a fluffer, and . . . oh my Lord. You can imagine what my reaction was.”
“At least you had an in. What’s a fluffer?” She popped the rest of her cupcake into her mouth.
Remi swayed a little. “I’m such a lightweight. I’m already buzzed.” She lowered her voice and said, “A fluffer is the person who, before Viagra, kept male porn stars aroused.”
Willow choked on her cupcake, coughing and spewing crumbs all over Remi’s robe. Remi burst into laughter and patted her on the back so hard they both tumbled off the stairs and spilled their drinks.
“Oh my God! A fluffer!” More laughter burst from Willow’s lungs, causing Remi to laugh harder. “And his uncle? A guy? Was it gay porn?”
Remi squealed. “I don’t know! Can you imagine? ‘Excuse me, sir,’” Remi said between laughs. “‘May I fluff you now?’”
Willow roared and grabbed Remi’s arm. “What did you do?”
“I screamed something like, ‘I’m not doing that!’ and ran out of the room.” She laughed again. “It was awful. I hid in my room for a month afterward. And when my brother found out”—she breathed deeply, regaining control—“first he beat the crap out of his friend’s uncle. Then he made it his goal to get me into real movies.” Her voice became serious and thoughtful. “I owe everything good in my life to Aiden, actually. He’s the kindest, most determined man I know, and I’m lucky to have him as my brother. He’s twelve years older than me. He raised me, and he manages my career now, but he also owns all sorts of businesses.”
Hearing Remi had been raised by her brother sobered Willow up. She’d like to say she was sorry if they had lost their parents and hug her, just because her heart was aching for her and everyone needed hugs. But she didn’t know Remi well enough to do either of those things, so she said, “Sounds like he’d get along well with my brother, Ben. He’s a venture capitalist and just as protective of me and my three sisters. Too bad Aiden’s not around. We could all have dinner one night.”
“You’re so lucky. I wish I had sisters,” Remi said with a sad look in her eyes. “Sometimes this life can get really lonely.”
“Aw, Remi. You can be our honorary sister.” Willow couldn’t resist reaching out and hugging her. Remi embraced her for a moment longer, and tighter, than she’d expected, making her glad she’d done it.
“Aiden’s coming Friday to see the last day of filming,” she said, fussing nervously with her robe, as if the hug had taken her by surprise, too. “He always tries to catch a day or two when his schedule allows. Maybe if you and Zane and Ben are up for it, we could have dinner then? You can bring your sisters.”
Thinking of how great it would be for Bridgette to meet a nice, responsible guy, she said, “We can be a little overwhelming as a group. Maybe I’ll bring just one.”
ONLY A FEW more days, Zane reminded himself as he headed for his trailer late Tuesday night. They’d had to film the last scene eight times because the other actor kept messing up his lines. It had been a long, grueling day, and Zane couldn’t blame him. The guy was sidetracked with thoughts of his wife wanting a divorce. The whole situation sucked, and on top of that, Zane thought they’d both made a mistake by taking this film. Acting in a romantic suspense role was incredibly different from acting in action movies. The scenes moved too slowly, every step felt measured, every breath overdramatized, whereas in action, there was barely time to think before he had to take someone down or blow through a building.
The lights were on in his trailer, which could only mean one thing. Willow was waiting for him. Patch had already taken off for the evening to meet Piper for drinks, and no one else had a key. He smiled to himself. He’d called her father today and planned to stop by after filming tomorrow, while Willow was holding a tasting for a potential new client. Filming was scheduled to end early, which should give them plenty of time to talk.
He pulled open the trailer door and stepped inside. It smelled like Willow, and his body pulsed to life.
She looked up from where she was lying on her stomach on the couch, and a smile lit up her glassy eyes. Her cheeks were pink, her legs were bent at the knees, her feet crossed at the ankles. A half-empty bottle of Kinky Pink sat on the floor, and he noticed five other empties on the table.
“Z, this is a love story,” she said with the slow speech of too much alcohol as he sat down beside her.
He noticed his screenplay lying open in front of her, and his chest constricted.
“I thought it was about a lost boy who finds his way in a gritty city against all odds. But it’s so much more. This is about family and friendship, and . . .” She flipped through the pages as she sat up. “I’m not done yet, but this part where he and his brother climb the water tower when he’s thinking about running away? That made my heart break. And the way he talks about that girl? Oh my gosh, Zane. I hope they get together. Do they?”
She was so freaking cute he pulled her onto his lap. “Yes, they get together.”
“Thank goodness, because I was worried that when he finally gets his life together he moves on without her.”
“Have you gotten to her date yet?”
“She goes on a date?” she said excitedly. “With him?”
He pushed his hand beneath her hair, rubbing her shoulders. “Are you tipsy?”
“Maybe. Did I tell you my oven broke? And they can’t bring a new one for four weeks.”
“Oh no, babe. Four weeks? Can’t you pull some strings?”
She shook her head. “Nope. I’m a mere mortal.”
“Well, I’m not. Let me see what I can do.” He made a mental note to check into it.
Her eyes widened, and she gasped. “I met Remi! We’re having dinner with her Friday night.”
He laughed at her non sequitur. Gotta love tipsy Willow. “Sounds great. She seems like a nice person.”
“Super nice. Do you know what a fluffer is? In porn, I mean?”
“Um. Is this the type of trick question girls ask to turn around on guys? Like if I say I do, then you get mad because I’ve probably watched porn?”
She grabbed his face. “No. I assume you’ve watched porn. But no one is fluffing you, got it?”
He rocked his hips beneath her. “You’re all I want or need, baby.”
“Good. As long as we’re clear.”
“Perfectly clear, sweet cheeks. But you can fluff me after I shower.” He pulled her T-shirt—his T-shirt, he realized—off her shoulder and kissed her there.
She wiggled her butt, fluffing him right up.
“Are you too tipsy to read a scene in the screenplay for me?” He’d decided to show the screenplay to the director, and he hoped to give it to him tomorrow. Steve Hileberg might be a hothead perfectionist, but he was without a doubt the best director in the business. Getting Steve on board with the project was the first step toward moving forward.
“No.” She watched him flipping the pages. “But I don’t want to skip ahead to the end.”
He’d covered his muse pretty well by mixing up the locations and particulars of the story. But he knew the girl who’d taught herself calculus by reading a book would see right through it. And he wanted her to, so there was no chance for miscommunication. He folded the screenplay over and pointed to the beginning of a scene. “Just read this scene for me, okay, beautiful? I’m going to shower real quick.”
She slid off his lap and pulled him down for another kiss. “I like Remi. I’m glad you have a nice costar.”
“Thanks, baby. I’m glad I have you.”
He went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, shaving at the sink as the room steamed up. He stripped out of his clothes and stepped beneath the warm spray, tipping his face up to catch the rain. His mind ran through all the possible reactions Willow might have to the scene. When Willow was in high school, one of the football players had asked her out. Zane remembered how proud she’d been. Her green eyes had twinkled with delight. She’d always thought of herself as awkward and a brainiac, but he knew better, as did half the guys in their school. But of all her luck, the asshole who had asked her out, Butch Clayborne, had proceeded to run his mouth in the locker room after football practice. He’d bragged about asking her out to “get a piece of ass,” among other parts of her, which had sent fire through Zane’s veins. Even in remembrance his fingers curled into fists. He’d waited for the rest of the team to clear out, and he’d grabbed the asshole by the collar and shoved him against the lockers. You’re not going out with Willow. You’re not to talk to her ever again. And if I hear you so much as mention her name, I will kill you. They hadn’t come to blows, but Zane would have taken him down without thought. What he hadn’t counted on was how upset Willow had been for being stood up. He hadn’t told her what he’d done because she’d already felt self-conscious about her breasts, and the last thing she’d needed was to think guys believed she was only good enough for sex, when in reality it was only the scum of the earth who treated women like that. He should have told the asshole to cancel the date, but he’d been too pissed off to think straight.
He pressed his palms against the tiles, the water streaming down his back, and prayed Willow wouldn’t hate him for what he’d done. The scene in the screenplay wasn’t the same, but he’d left enough clues. And if she didn’t get it because she was too tipsy, he’d tell her outright. But he had faith in his beautiful, brilliant girl.
When the shower door opened, he hesitated before looking over, taking one last second to throw a plea up to the powers that be. She stepped into the shower, raw hurt glittering in her eyes, slicing through him like a knife.
“Wills—”
She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face to his chest. Her lush, naked curves molded to his body, arousing more than just his heart.
“The lunar eclipse,” she said softly.
“I’m sorry, baby. I should have told you.” The night the date was supposed to occur, there had been a lunar eclipse. The whole town had gone to the fairgrounds to witness it, but he’d found Willow down by the creek behind her parents’ house. Her thinking spot. Two years later, that spot had become theirs.
Her delicate fingers trailed along his back, and she gazed up at him. “I’m glad you didn’t. It would have mortified me, and there’s nothing I hate more than being embarrassed. That’s why you came looking for me that night. I remember. You said my mom was worried about me and you offered to go find me.”
He nodded. “One day when Ben and I were playing basketball, you said you were going to the creek to read. I saw you heading for the woods a few weeks later, and Ben said that you went to the creek to think. When you didn’t show up with everyone else at the fairgrounds that night, baby, I assumed you were there.”
Her hands slid to his ass, holding her body firmly against him and making him hard as steel. “You really have loved me forever.”
“I’m pretty sure we’ve determined that you’ve had me since I first set eyes on you.”
“Do you remember the very first time you saw me?” She swayed against him and flicked her tongue over his nipple.
“I can barely think when you do that, much less retrieve a memory from so long ago.”
She sucked the pebbled peak into her mouth, and he groaned, backing her up against the wall. When she clamped her teeth around the sensitive nub, he pushed her legs open with his knee and thrust the head of his arousal against her center.
“Fuck, baby.” He rocked his hips, teasing her slick flesh. “I don’t have a condom, and I want to make love to you so badly.”
“I’m on the pill and clean,” she said urgently. “But the question is, are you?” She was breathing as hard as he was.
His pulse skyrocketed. “Yes. I wouldn’t have let you put your mouth on me if I wasn’t.”
All his blood rushed south as he lifted her into his arms, unable to wait another second to make love to her. Water ran like a river between her breasts as her legs wound around his waist. He loved the feel of her warm thighs against him and her hands on his cheeks as her tight heat swallowed his shaft. Their mouths came together in a smoldering, greedy kiss. She clutched at his shoulders, moving with him in a mind-numbing rhythm. Lust and love pulsed through his veins as they quickened their efforts. More, his body demanded, thrusting harder, kissing rougher, almost violently, needing to be even closer. Her back met the wall as he drove into her. He broke away from the kiss to make sure she was okay, but she crashed her mouth to his, giving him the green light he needed. He sped through that sucker, eating at her mouth, slamming into her time and time again, driven by the heat pooling at the base of his spine. Pressure mounted with every sweet moan. Her head tipped back, and he took her breast into his mouth, sucking and teasing the peak.
“Z—harder. So good—”
Hearing her desires took him right up to the edge of sanity. He sucked harder, and she cried out, gasping for breath. Her inner muscles pulsed around him, and his release crashed over him, pulling him under, drowning him in ecstasy.
Her body shuddered with aftershocks, and he moved her beneath the warm water.
“Z,” she whispered.
“Yeah, sweetheart. Did I hurt your back?”
She lifted her head from his shoulder. “No. I just want you to know, I love that it took us so long to finally come together.”
He pressed his lips to hers and lowered her feet to the floor, holding her close as they rinsed off. “Why? I wish we had all those years together.”
“Because you’ve had time to become the man you are, and I’ve had time to become the person I am. And those feelings are still here, only stronger. And now you’ve written a story about us, straight from your heart. Nothing could be more perfect than that.”
“You’re wrong, baby. As cheesy as it sounds, every day we’re together will be more perfect than the last, because every day I’m learning how to be a better man for you.”
“You’re the king of cheesy,” she teased.
“I love you, too. Now finish up so I can take you home and devour you properly.” He smacked her ass.
She squealed and spun out of his arms. Her gaze turned sinfully seductive as she cupped his balls and said, “Why wait?”