The Real Thing (Sugar Lake Book 1)

by Melissa Foster

  “Z!” She pushed him off and jumped from the bed, settling a hand on her hip. She tried to glare at him, but he lay there looking sexy and playful and so very Zane, she couldn’t do more than laugh.

  He patted the bed. “Come on, Wills. Let’s play.”

  “We played last night. You were supposed to sleep on the couch.”

  “Oops. I forgot.” His eyes cruised down her body, and she felt herself go damp. “Damn, baby. You look even finer in the morning than you do in my fantasies.”

  “Whatever.” She threw the pillow at him. “I’m taking a shower, and when I come out, that viper of yours better be sleeping.”

  He pushed up on one elbow. “Only one way that’s going to happen.” He eyed the empty side of the bed.

  “Dream on, big boy.” She grabbed her clothes from her suitcase and headed for the bathroom—locking the door behind her. That was to keep her in, rather than keep him out. A quick glimpse in the mirror caused her stomach to plummet. Her T-shirt wasn’t so big after all. Zane had gotten a clear view right through her white lace panties to the part of her that was begging her to get right back in that bed and do the big, hot, arrogant actor.

  A long while and two self-pleasured orgasms later, she left the bathroom and found Zane pacing the balcony in those tight black briefs. Her body stirred again. Two weeks of this was going to kill her.

  She needed space to clear her head . . . again. She went to the balcony and whispered, “I’m going down to get breakfast.”

  He pointed to the phone and mouthed, Sorry.

  The look in his eyes told her he really was.

  She grabbed a muffin and coffee from the café and took them out to the lawn, gazing out at the beautiful mountains bordering the water. The resort made Lake George feel fancy and upscale. Sitting on the grass in her skinny jeans and T-shirt, she kicked off her sandals, and a cool breeze swept over her feet. If it weren’t for the wedding preparations taking place on the opposite side of the lawn, she could almost pretend the elaborate resort didn’t exist. Every once in a while, Willow thought about what it would be like to be the bride instead of the baker. Between baking wedding cakes and catering the receptions, it was hard not to think about weddings. But she wasn’t like some women who needed a man. No, Willow was too independent to need anyone.

  Her thoughts turned to Zane. I needed to kiss you last night. But where did that leave them now? Wishing she had answers, she forced herself to think about her motivations. She sighed, picking at her muffin and thinking about when she’d gone off to college after they’d slept together. He had done her a favor. She hadn’t wanted to go away to college as an inexperienced virgin, and he’d given her experience. The problem was, no man could ever live up to what she’d built that night up to be in her mind—or in her heart.

  She’d been naive to think she could sleep with him and not feel anything. She and Zane had continued texting for the first few weeks, but it wasn’t like they’d texted love notes or had developed a real relationship. At least she’d stuck to that end of the bargain and kept her true feelings to herself. But she’d hoped that at some point their relationship might naturally develop into something more, and she’d gone out with her new friends and had boudoir pictures taken, intending to send them to Zane and win him over. But then he’d stopped texting, and with his radio silence, she’d chickened out. She’d never gone back to pick up the photos. And it was a good thing, because it might have taken her several months to finally move past her first all-consuming love, but knowing the kind of man Zane had turned into painted a pretty clear picture of what he’d wanted. If she’d sent those pictures and he’d turned her down, she would have been mortified on top of being heartbroken. And if she’d sent them and by some miracle they’d tried to have a relationship, he probably would have cheated, and that was the kind of pain she might not ever have recovered from.

  She pushed those painful memories aside. Sometime later, after finishing her coffee and muffin and thinking about the Spider-Man cake she was going to bake for Louie’s birthday, she was in a better mental place and determined not to go back to being that vulnerable girl again. From here on out, this was a business deal that wouldn’t, couldn’t, blur the line between friends and lovers.

  Feeling more in control, she picked up her sandals and went in search of Zane, thinking about last night again. The man had more willpower than she did, and she was glad he’d finally given in. She had really believed he hadn’t wanted to kiss her, and she had been surprised at how much that had hurt.

  The gazebo came into view, and she recognized Zane’s unmistakable profile: the sharp ridge of his nose and strong jaw, hair that looked as wild and free as his smiles did. He sat beside Liz, who was in her wedding gown. Willow’s pulse kicked up as he leaned closer to Liz and took her chin in his hand, moving her face toward his. Willow froze, her fingers curling into fists. Was he hitting on the bride? Did Zane have no scruples? She stormed across the lawn, preparing to give him hell. And what was that stupid bride thinking? So what if he was Zane Walker! She was supposed to be in love with Mark. Didn’t love mean anything anymore? Had the entire world lost their minds and turned into sweet-and-sour tarts? Be sweet. Or be sour. But don’t pretend to be one when you’re really the other.

  Liz turned red, puffy eyes in Willow’s direction as she approached, and Willow’s stomach plummeted. He’d made her cry?

  “Hey, sweetheart,” Zane said softly. “Liz is having a case of cold feet. I was just telling her that means she’s truly in love with Mark.”

  She wanted to ask what he knew about true love, but the lump in her throat only allowed an empathetic mew to escape. She stepped into the gazebo, and Zane reached for her like it was the most natural thing in the world and pulled her down on his lap. He brushed her hair over her shoulder, and his honest eyes made the lump in Willow’s throat expand.

  “I know a thing or two about cold feet,” he said. “I was so afraid Willow would say no when I proposed, I wasted weeks trying to get up the nerve to ask her. You’re just afraid of being hurt, Liz. But I’m sure Mark feels about you the way I feel about Willow. Like his world wouldn’t be complete without you.”

  He turned his warm brown eyes on Willow, and she felt herself sliding down a slippery slope, wanting to believe him.

  “She’s my whole life,” he said with a tender smile. “I can’t imagine going a single day without seeing her beautiful face. I dream about seeing her belly round with our babies and about taking long walks when we’re old and gray, so hard of hearing we have to shout just to hear each other.”

  “Gosh, you guys are so in love.” Liz wiped her tears with a wad of tissues.

  If Willow didn’t know Zane was just playing a role, she’d have said the same thing. Part of her believed every word out of his mouth. But she pushed that vulnerable, naive girl down deep. Then she stomped on her head a few times, burying her even deeper. She followed Liz’s gaze across the lawn and found Mark approaching, looking handsome in his tuxedo, a concerned expression etched into his face.

  “Come on, baby,” Zane said to Willow. “I think Liz and Mark should be alone.” He squeezed Liz’s hand and said, “Marriage takes an act of trust. In some ways it’s a blind bargain, because by nature people and life are fluid. They’re destined to change, which is what makes them so wonderful.” His arm circled Willow’s waist, and she wondered if he’d had relationship lessons for breakfast. “But if you both make an effort, you grow together, not apart. You’ve got this, Liz. Be happy.”

  He led Willow away from the gazebo. She waited for him to brag about how good an actor he was, or fish for kudos for a deed well done, but he remained silent. That silence endeared him toward her even more. These glimpses into the guy he had been were piling up inside her like sprinkles on her Zane cupcake, making her hungry for more.

  His phone rang, and he pulled it from his pocket and glanced at it. “I’ve got to take this. Give me a sec?”

  Willow watched him walk
away, silently reprimanding herself for jumping to the worst conclusions about him. She vowed to stop and to try to gain control of her jealousy, which had spurred that awful thought in the first place. She watched him pacing, his hand cruising through his hair so many times she knew he was dealing with an issue. He downplayed his job whenever she brought it up over text. Show up and look good. Nothing to it. But she knew him better than that. She knew he’d probably studied and rehearsed relentlessly in order to have this time off. She also knew it would be far easier for him to have asked an actress from LA to play the part of his fake fiancée. It would be weird to try to act like this with anyone other than you.

  She hadn’t paid enough attention to his answer when he’d said it. Or maybe she was reading too much into it now, wondering if he really believed it, because for her it was one hundred percent true. She could never act like she had a serious relationship with anyone else. She’d found that out when she’d brought home another guy the Christmas after she and Zane had slept together. Faking it had made her sick to her stomach. She was thinking about that painful holiday when he returned to her side with a disgruntled expression.

  “Come on, we’ve got to pack.”

  “What’s wrong?” She hurried to keep up and followed him into the resort.

  He looked even more distraught when they entered the elevator. “We need to go see your parents.”

  “My par—” She grabbed his hand. “What happened?” She patted her pockets, but she’d left her phone in the room. “Did Ben call? Did something happen? Are they okay?”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders as panic swallowed her. “Wills, look at me.”

  She met his gaze, and in it she found solace.

  “Your parents are fine, babe, but the papers picked up our story. It’s all over the Internet.”

  “What? How?” Her mind reeled.

  The elevator doors opened, and they rushed toward their room.

  “Some idiot took pictures of us last night. People do this shit all the time. They sell pics for big money and the press makes up stories. You know that. My PR rep said they had pictures of us dancing and of me carrying you toward the resort. The headlines said something about our ‘secret engagement.’”

  It was going to be bad enough to try to lie to her family, but for them to find out from an article made it a hundred times worse. She followed him into the room and scrambled for her phone. One glance at the messages from her family told her they’d already seen the news.

  “This is bad, Zane. Really bad. What am I going to tell them?” She rushed into the bathroom and began gathering her things. “I don’t know why I thought I could lie to them. This will kill them. They’ll never trust me again.”

  ZANE THREW HIS belongings into his suitcase, wishing he could track down the asshole who had taken the pictures and pound the shit out of them. No part of his plan called for Willow or her family to get hurt. In fact, he’d thought he’d taken measures to avoid that. It was hard to believe there had been a time when he’d craved this type of radical attention. He’d been an idiot to believe he’d needed it to validate that he’d made it. After a decade of acting, he was over invasions of his privacy. He’d had a hard enough time with the idea of one photographer at his beck and call, but he’d be damned if he was going to let Willow and her family get caught in the Hollywood bullshit crossfire.

  “We’ll fix this, Willow. It’s not like you’ve lied to them.”

  She stopped stuffing clothes into her bag. “Isn’t there a ‘yet’ missing?” She shoved the rest of her clothes in the bag and zipped it up. “Wasn’t that the whole idea? We’d go back to Sweetwater and lie to everyone? Give them your made-up story about us and hope they bought it? I don’t know why I agreed to do that. We have to tell them the truth.”

  He slung her bag over his shoulder, wondering how he could navigate this without screwing it up. “Wills, we can’t tell them.”

  “We can and we will.” She crossed her arms. “You’re asking me to lie to my family.”

  “I am,” he admitted, guilt suffocating him. “That makes me a shithead, but I promise you I’ll take all the blame afterward. If one person slips up and says this is fake, the whole thing is blown.”

  “It’s ridiculous anyway,” she seethed. “Who will ever believe you would settle down with one woman? You don’t even know what that means.”

  He clenched his jaw against the truth, but it broke free anyway. “You’re so fucking wrong, you’re on the wrong planet. You don’t know everything about me, Willow, so don’t stand there and judge me like everyone else in the fucking world does.”

  She scoffed. “Oh, please. You’ve never even had a long-term girlfriend.”

  He stepped closer, heat thundering in the space between them despite their dispute. “Maybe that’s by choice, and not because of whatever reasons are floating around in that beautiful head of yours.” He raked his hand through his hair, mired down by guilt. “Look. I need you, but I don’t want to hurt you or your family. If you need to tell them, I’ll announce to the press that they’ve got it all wrong. The ring is not an engagement ring, and we’re old friends. I’ll make sure your reputation stays intact.”

  Her gaze softened. “But what about the focus group and all that stuff about fans not buying you as a romance hero?”

  “I’ll figure something out.”

  “Goddamn it.” She plopped down on the bed.

  Zane crouched beside her. “I’m sorry, Wills. I love your family. They’ve been better to me than my own family ever was. I didn’t think this through. I can’t expect you to lie to them, and you can’t tell them and expect them to keep it a secret. I’ll call the photographer and put an end to the ruse right now. I’m sorry I got you involved.” He slid his phone from his pocket and scrolled through his contacts for the photographer’s number.

  “Don’t call him,” she relented.

  He lifted his eyes, and she rolled hers.

  “I made you a promise. You kept yours when I needed you before college. It’s only fair that I keep mine now.”

  He was filled with gratitude and admiration, but he didn’t want her to feel pressured by their past. “Willow, this is different from what happened between us back then. If you do this, please don’t do it out of some warped sense of obligation. I will adore you whether you agree or not. I don’t want to hurt you or your family. It was an impetuous plan, regardless of how much I thought I’d planned it out. I missed this giant piece, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

  She nodded, her gaze softening. He lifted his phone, and she put her hand over his, lowering it to his side again.

  “It’s only two weeks,” she said, shocking the hell out of him. “They’ll be mad when we finally tell them the truth, but if anyone will understand, it’s my family. They go to crazy lengths for their friends, and they love you.”

  He cocked a brow. “I’m not sure Piper’s on board with the whole loving Zane thing.” Piper was a year and a half older than Willow and a year younger than him and Ben. She’d always treated Zane as if she didn’t quite trust him, though he couldn’t figure out why.

  That earned him a sort-of smile. “Piper will probably be annoyed with both of us for a while, but she’ll get over it.”

  He sat beside her. “Are you sure?”

  She held out her left hand, the diamond sparkling in the bright lights. “What kind of fiancée dumps her man when things get tough? We’ve got this.”

  He wrapped her in his arms, and they both fell backward to the mattress. He kissed her smack on the lips. “I owe you big-time for this.” He pressed his hips to her thigh. “I can make up for it right now if you let me.”

  She pushed him off, still smiling. “I’m so going to regret this.”

  He pulled her up to her feet and tugged her against him. “I promise you won’t. I’ll be the perfect fake fiancé. You’re going to fall so hard for me, you aren’t going to want this fake engagement to end.”

  CHAPTER S
IX

  WILLOW TEXTED HER family before they left the resort to let them know they’d clear everything up when they arrived. They hadn’t responded, which she took as a comforting sign, but Zane was so quiet on the way home he made Willow even more nervous. He was never quiet. She’d been surprised to learn he didn’t have a car with him at the resort, but she shouldn’t have been. He’d planned to spend the next two weeks in Sweetwater, which meant he had probably planned to drive back with her. It was all part of his big plan. She’d never known him to be a planner, but he seemed to have thought out just about everything to substantiate this shenanigan, with the exception of the guilt that went along with it. She realized that was probably why he was quiet, and it endeared him to her even more.

  As the miles passed and they turned off the highway toward Sweetwater, the usual sense of calm her hometown brought evaded her. Zane’s leg began bouncing repeatedly, another of his nervous habits. She’d forgotten about that one.

  “You look even more nervous than me. You okay?” Willow asked.

  “Yeah. Just thinking about Ben.” He raised one shoulder in a half shrug.

  She curled her fingers tightly around the steering wheel. Of course he was thinking about Ben. It was anyone’s guess how her older brother would react to their news. Despite Zane’s claim that Willow knew him better than anyone, she believed Ben knew him better. They were too close for him not to have shared his sexual conquests with her brother, and Ben was more than a little protective of his sisters. Willow was glad she didn’t know all of Zane’s secrets. Just thinking about him and other women made her feel a little sick. She’d been pretty good about not thinking about it over the years, but this fake engagement made her feel possessive of him in ways she probably shouldn’t. Where did a person in a fake relationship draw their boundary lines?

  “Maybe because you spend your life acting,” she suggested, not unkindly. “And we’re the one family you’ve never had to act around?”

  He rested his head back, and a genuine smile, which was a world away from his mischievous or seductive smiles, slid across his face. He looked so real, Willow almost reached for his hand.