The Real Thing (Sugar Lake #1)

The bell above the door chimed, and Willow popped up from behind the glass pastry display. “Hi, I’ll be ri—” Her smile tightened, and his hope plummeted.

She returned her attention to ringing up a purchase for a stout gray-haired woman. “Okay, hon. We’ve got two Loverboys and one blueberry muffin. Hopefully this will bring a smile to your granddaughter’s face. I’m so sorry to hear about her broken ankle.”

Zane kept his head down, hoping not to cause a ruckus as he had out front. He stuck close to the wall that adjoined Secret Garden. The archway between the two shops had no doors. The lights were out in the flower shop, and a single chain hung from one end of the archway to the other with a pretty hand-painted sign that read, WE’RE BUSY PLANTING SECRETS. PLEASE COME BACK TOMORROW. Had these shops been in LA, there would be impenetrable locked doors separating them. Zane smiled to himself. He’d wanted to get out of Sweetwater so badly when he’d graduated high school; he’d never recognized how monumental trust was in the community.

Zane inhaled the delicious aroma of fresh-baked pastries and the heavy floral scents of the roses. Sunlight streamed in the storefront windows, casting a warm glow over several round tables and on the self-service coffee station lining the far-left wall. He stole a glance at Willow, who stood behind the register at the right end of the counter. She was smiling at her customer, listening intently to something the woman was saying, and it was clear that she was trying not to meet his gaze. He took a moment to look around. The bakery was decorated in true Willow style, upbeat with a vintage flair. Distressed mint and pink cabinetry below wide glass displays spanned almost the full width of the store, with a walkway on either side. He knew Willow baked the items she sold each morning, and the cakes, muffins, and pastries were nearly sold out already. Behind the register were built-in shelves boasting packages of bakery paraphernalia wrapped with pretty pink and green bows. The original hardwood floors and elegantly detailed white crown molding gave the bakery a charming feel. The roses he’d sent were proudly displayed at each end of the counter and on several of the tables. Maybe Ben had it all wrong and she didn’t hate them after all.

Willow picked up a vase of roses and handed it to the elderly woman. “Give her these, too. If the sweets don’t do it, these sure will.”

“Oh, Willow. Bless your heart.” The woman turned with a pleased smile and carried the vase out the door as another customer stepped up to the register.

What the hell?



AFTER A SLEEPLESS night spent wishing Zane had stayed one minute and telling herself he’d done the right thing by leaving the next, Willow had come to work at 5:00 a.m. tired, confused, and longing to see the man who had singlehandedly turned her entire world upside down. She was in no mood for the flock of women who had invaded her bakery with the sole purpose of getting a piece of her fake fiancé, the man who was currently stalking her with a predatory look in his eyes. Lord help her, the man was brutally compelling in his tight, faded jeans, which hugged the assets that had doled out so many orgasms last night she’d lost count.

“How are you today, ca—Leah? What can I get for you?” Great, she’d almost called her cake pops! Willow often thought of her customers by what they ordered rather than their names. She tried harder to concentrate on her friend and ignore her fluttering stomach.

“I’ll take a box of cake pops for Lisa’s teacher, please,” Leah said. “She just found out she’s pregnant.”

“Oh, how wonderful.” Willow turned to grab a box, and Zane stepped behind the counter, snatching it off the counter with a puckish grin. She forced a smile for the sake of her customers and lowered her voice. “What are you doing?”

“Helping my fiancée.” He held the box as she filled it with cake pops.

“You’ve turned my life into a circus,” she whispered. He leaned closer, and her traitorous nipples peaked to attention.

“I’m sorry, Wills. Since when do you hate roses? I was trying to apologize.”

She’d loved the note he’d included with the flowers. I’m about as imperfect as they come, but my love for you is real. But the roses had reminded her of the one he’d given her all those years ago, and she’d had trouble fighting the troubling emotions that came with the memory.

“Since you know when,” she finally answered.

Understanding dawned in his eyes, and it killed her to see the hurt that followed. She wasn’t being fair. Not now that she knew the truth about what had really happened back then.

Willow rang up Leah’s order. The diamond ring turned as she used the register, slicing into the side of her middle finger as it had been doing all morning.

“Zane Walker,” Leah said breathlessly, a blush rising on her cheeks. “I’ve seen every one of your movies.”

Willow fought the urge to roll her eyes.

Zane stifled a chuckle and slid an arm around Willow’s waist. “I hope you enjoyed them. I’m gearing up for my most important role yet, as this beautiful woman’s husband. I’m truly a lucky man.”

Husband? Her insides fluttered. He sounded so sincere she wanted to throw caution to the wind, pretend everything was perfect, and live in that fantasy forever. But she’d tried living in a fantasy once before, and it had backfired. Big-time.

For both of us.

If they were going to really give this a shot, she needed to make sure they were communicating honestly. No more secrets, no more tricks. Were they capable of that? And what about when he went back to his life in LA? Long-distance relationships weren’t easy, and everyone in LA knew him to be just that. Easy. As if Zane were inside her head, his angry confession rushed in. You broke me.

“How’s it going, Mr. Gray? What can I get you?” Zane asked the next customer, drawing Willow’s attention from her befuddled thoughts.

“Morning, hon.” She smiled at Martin Gray, and knew chocolate chip muffins were on tap. Martin reminded Willow of Robert De Niro, with beady eyes and an ever-present twitchy smile, which made him look like he was always on the cusp of making a joke.

“Good morning, Willow. You look beautiful today.”

Always the flirt. “Thank you.”

Turning to Zane, he said, “I’ll take two chocolate chip muffins, please. It’s no wonder the ladies came out of the woodwork. I’ve lived here all my life and never seen half those women. I guess it’s not that often the star quarterback comes back for a visit.” A hearty laugh rumbled out of his lungs.

Willow chuckled. Zane winked at her, and her belly fluttered again. She was as bad as she’d been as a teenager with a crush.

“I assume you’ve heard our happy news,” Zane said to Martin.

“Sure have. I wondered who was going to sweep our Willow off her feet. But don’t you even think about whisking her away from here, son. I need my Sweetie Pie muffins.”