ZANE PRAYED TO whatever gods might be listening and hoped to hell he could pull this off. He was more nervous than he’d ever been, with the exception of the night he and Willow had snuck out to take care of her V-card. He raked his hand through his hair and stared at the house he’d spent enough time in to know exactly which stairs creaked (the third from the second-story landing) and how many steps it took to walk from the front of the house to the rear (fifteen). He and Ben had figured out which windows were easy to climb out of by the time they were ten, and by sixteen they’d figured out how long it took Ben’s parents to fall asleep after they’d gone to bed, so they could sneak out those windows. But perhaps his most treasured memory wasn’t of the interior of the house; it was of standing in the dark corner of the backyard waiting to meet Willow at midnight, sure he was going to have a panic attack or experience premature ejaculation from the mere thought of having sex with her. He’d never known fear or elation as he had while standing there watching Willow sneak out the back door to meet him. Even now it was his most treasured, and most terrifying, memory.
“How are we going to pull this off?” Willow asked.
She suddenly looked fearful and vulnerable. He took her in his arms and gazed into her eyes. “Baby, all you have to do is kiss me once like you did last night and nobody will ever doubt us.”
She rolled her eyes.
“But if you follow it up with an eye roll, they’ll never believe you.”
“I’m sorry.” She lowered her voice and whispered, “I’m so freaking nervous. I never lie to my family.”
He cocked his head, giving her a look he knew translated as I can think of at least one time that you did.
“Anymore,” she said sharply.
He smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We’ve got this, baby. They know we’re friends. They know we text.”
“Yeah.” She laughed incredulously. “Bridge knows you proposition me all the time, too.”
“Then it’s an even easier transition. You took me up on a proposition, which is true. That’s all you have to say.”
She drew in a deep breath, nodding. “Okay. I can do that.”
“And I’ll be right there with you. In fact, I’ll do all the talking if you want.”
“You might have to,” she said as they walked toward the wide front steps.
He patted her butt. “No prob, sweet cheeks.”
She glared at him.
He chuckled as Willow’s mother, Roxie Dalton, came around the side of the house. Her wild blond curls were as unruly as ever. She threw her arms up in the air with a wide smile. The sleeves of her blue batik top hung like wings from her arms. Her colorful skirt wafted around her legs as she hurried across the grass.
“I thought I heard Chloe! Zane Walker, you sly little devil you.” She pulled him into her arms and kissed his cheek. “How long have you been pulling the wool over our eyes?”
“My whole life?” Hey, that wasn’t a lie.
Roxie laughed, and behind her Willow rolled her eyes.
“I always wondered if you two would figure out how good you’d be together,” her mother said.
Zane’s stomach knotted up. He’d always thought they would be good together, too, but knowing the woman who had been like a second mother to him bought their lie hook, line, and sinker, without so much as an explanation, brought guilt crashing in again.
Roxie’s eyes teared up as she embraced Willow. “Baby girl. Oh, my sweet baby girl.”
“Hi, Mom. I’m sorry you found out like this.” Willow glared at Zane over her mother’s shoulder.
Reality slammed into him, bonding with the guilt. You’re risking everything for me. The same way she’d risked it all those years ago when she’d chosen him. Only this time he’d chosen her. Hell, he’d always chosen her.
“I want all the special details, but first—” Roxie reached for each of their hands, her eyes catching on the ring. “Well, isn’t that sparkly and gorgeous?” She tipped a curious gaze to Willow.
“Yeah,” she said. “It’s . . . big. And beautiful.”
He knew the ring was all wrong for Willow, but there was nothing he could do about that now.
Roxie drew in a deep breath. “You need to know that not everyone in the family is as on board as I am. Benny, Piper, Dad. They’re . . . well, they’re concerned. Talia has a lot of questions. And, baby girl, I think Bridgette is a little hurt. So, kid gloves, okay? She isn’t here. She said she didn’t want Louie around whatever went down this afternoon.”
Sadness shadowed Willow’s gaze, and Zane felt his heart crack open.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. D. The whole secretive thing was my idea. Willow wanted to be honest, but with my reputation and her hatred of being the center of attention, I thought it best to protect her for as long as we could.” He took Willow’s hand, and when he gazed into her eyes, his emotions poured out. “I know how hard it has been for Willow to keep our secret from her family, and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it.”
As if on cue, Willow sighed dreamily.
“Oh my word,” Roxie said a little breathlessly. “No one could deny the love between you two.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
IF LOOKS COULD kill, Zane would be laid out in the Daltons’ backyard. Piper glared at him from where she was repairing a picnic table bench beneath a giant tree. She had a hammer in her hand, and from the look in her eyes, she wanted to use it on Zane. Piper was a petite blonde at five two or three, and she probably weighed all of a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet, but Zane felt the threat of her stare as if she were a formidable opponent. And as Willow’s sister, she was.
“There they are. Congratulations, sweetheart.” Dan Dalton, Willow’s father, swept her into his arms. He had been a college professor before retiring and focusing on his second passion as a custom-home builder. He and Piper ran Dalton Contracting, and while he looked more like a professor than a builder—tall and slim, with close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair—he and Piper were both excellent at their craft.
Dan passed Willow to her eldest sister, Talia, who shared their father’s dark eyes and his love of all things academic. She worked as an English lit professor at a small private college just outside Sweetwater, and she was the most serious and careful of Willow’s siblings. She was a pretty woman, with thick, dark brows, high cheekbones, a slim, perky nose, and long, wavy hair almost as dark as her father’s and Ben’s, all of which softened the straightforward, geeky smarts that sometimes tumbled out of her mouth.
“Congratulations,” Talia said after hugging Willow and embracing Zane. “Needless to say, we were all a little shocked.”