The Real Thing (Sugar Lake #1)

“How do you even remember that? It was—” The night we slept together. Butterflies took flight in her stomach. She silently chastised herself again. Do not over-romanticize this! It was hard not to when he remembered something she’d said a decade ago. “A long time ago. This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

“I could have borrowed Harley’s motorboat, but that would have alerted the reporters on a quiet night like this.” He stopped rowing and gazed out at the lights of the town fading in the distance. “Besides, you don’t need a yacht to be treated like a princess.”

Her breathing hitched. “What did you say?”

“You don’t need a yacht to be treated like a princess.”

He began rowing again, moving through the water at a fast clip, while she tried to get ahold of her whirling emotions. Last summer he’d texted and invited her to join him on a yacht for the weekend, and he’d promised to treat her like a princess. Her response had been, No, thanks. I don’t need a yacht to be treated like a princess.

She crossed her arms, gathering the courage to call him on it, but every time she opened her mouth to speak, something inside her fluttered with appreciation. He remembered two things that anyone else might have found insignificant. What did that mean? She watched him more carefully, taking in the way his jaw flexed with his efforts, his strong hands gripping the oars like he’d been rowing every day of his life. She doubted he’d even been out on a rowboat since they were kids. She lifted her gaze and found him watching her, arousing the lust he’d been stirring like an out-of-control blender.

“What are you doing, Zane?” she finally managed.

“Rowing us out to the island.” When he spoke again, his voice was laced with seduction. “What are you doing, Wills?”

Falling for you again.

The island came into view, and without breaking their connection, he dragged one oar in the water, guiding the boat toward the land.

“You know what I mean,” she challenged.

His lips quirked up. “You mean, what am I doing, as in saving you from the media hounds? You’re my fiancée. It seems like the right thing to do. Don’t you think, sweetheart?”

“Fake fiancée,” she said softly, gazing down at the ring. Maybe he didn’t remember that text after all. She wished she could get his comment about Penny out of her mind, or at least stop feeling like she was falling for him again. Because the two conflicted so harshly she was left feeling like half-risen dough.

“What’s the matter, Wills? Nervous about spending the night on a remote island with your man?”

She swallowed hard against the truth. She wasn’t worried about Zane making a move on her. It was her own lack of control around him that concerned her.

“No,” she said too sharply. “And you’re only my fake man.”

“I assure you, I’m one hundred percent real man, even if I’m your fake fiancé. But don’t worry, baby cakes, I brought all the provisions we’ll need.”

She imagined he meant condoms, and she was as turned on as she was annoyed by the idea.

He docked the boat on the shore and reached for Willow’s hand to help her out. She was flustered and still feeling a little prickly about Penny.

“I’ve got it.” She jumped out of the boat, and her foot sank into the mud. “Ugh.”

“Why don’t you go up on the beach and I’ll get the gear.”

“I can help.” She reached for a bag, which was heavier than it looked. “What’s in this?”

“All the stuff we need.”

She peeked into the bag. “Towels?”

“You didn’t think I’d leave my skinny-dipping girl hanging, did you?” He waggled his brows and grabbed two boxes.

Willow had always loved skinny-dipping. Her family knew she’d sneak down to the lake at night and take a quick dip. She’d been caught skinny-dipping up in the mountains by her friend Logan Wild a few years earlier, too, but she didn’t remember mentioning that to Zane. “I can’t believe you remembered I like to skinny-dip.”

“Are you kidding? I used to set my alarm so I wouldn’t miss your dips in the lake.”

“For some reason I believe that.”

He laughed and they headed into the woods. Leaves and twigs crunched beneath their feet. Willow stayed close to Zane in the dark forest, wondering if he really had watched her skinny-dip. She had always been careful to walk down by the boathouse, where no one was ever around after dark. A thrill ran through her at the prospect of his naughty peeking.

“Pick a spot, beautiful.”

“I can barely see.”

He set down one of the boxes and turned on the flashlight app on his phone.

“You lead. I’ll follow.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice before saying, “Just like old times.”

Her pulse quickened as they wove through the thickly wooded area, but her mind kept jumping back to giving Penny a thrill. It wasn’t like he’d been in the store long enough to do anything, but the way he’d said it still bugged her.

“How are we going to set up a tent here? And what about a bathroom? This feels a little extreme for avoiding photographers. We don’t even know if they were photographers.”

“They were. A few local photogs, as I suspected. I texted my security guys. They’ve probably already taken care of it, and you won’t have to be bothered for the rest of the time I’m in town.”

“You sound like a drug dealer or a Mafia man.” Lowering her voice an octave, she said, “My security guys.”

“If you’re going to bitch about photographers, you can’t give me shit about what needs to be done to get rid of them.”

She couldn’t argue with that. “But you need the media. Aren’t they part of the focus group’s plan? You can’t screw that up.”

“I’ll figure something out. But I’m not going to screw up your life in the process. We’ll be seen enough around town without you being hounded by the press.”

“What if the focus—”

“Wills, I’ve got this. Let me deal with it, okay? No one is going to make you feel like a prisoner in your own town. At least not because of me.” They came to a clearing, and he set down the supplies. “This is perfect. I’ll get the rest.”

“I’ll go, too.”

“Only if you hold my hand.”

She hesitated, still thinking of Penny. “Why?”

“Because part of acting is immersing yourself in your character.” He stepped closer, a glimmer of seduction in his eyes. “Immerse with me, Wills.”

“Maybe you should have brought Penny.” She stepped away, but he grabbed her hand and hauled her back.

“Green is not your color, baby.”

She rolled her eyes, struggling against him as his arms circled her, holding her captive.

“Now we’re back to eye rolling?” Tightening his grip with one hand, he ran his finger along the edge of her jaw. “You’re the one who keeps pointing out that this is a fake engagement.”

“It is.”

“But you keep forgetting, no one here is supposed to know that. Not your family, not Harley, and definitely not Penny Preacher.”