The Real Thing (Sugar Lake #1)

“Now who’s talking too much?”

She leaned up and kissed him. “Just tell me. Then you can make love to me until neither one of us has any energy left to talk.”

“That was the plan all along, sweetheart.”

“Z,” she complained.

He gazed down at her and knew she’d push until he told her. “I thought acting was all I was capable of and that a fast-paced, bigger-than-life existence would be more fulfilling than what Sweetwater had to offer. But I was young and stupid. I didn’t even know what fulfilling meant.” He kissed her softly, weighing his answer. “But we’re not going to talk about that now. All you need to know right this second is that there’s more I want out of life than to look pretty on a big screen.”

“Like?”

“Like you, baby. I want you.”

She looked at him for a long moment with a serious expression, like she was contemplating world peace. “I want you, too, Z,” she whispered.

He brushed his lips over her cheek and whispered, “You love me, Wills. Now stop talking and let me love you like you deserve to be loved.”

“With whipped cream and sugary goodness?” she teased.

She was killing him with Willowness. “That’ll be the second course.”

“Third,” she corrected him.

“Wills.”

“Sorry,” she whispered with another sweet giggle. She schooled her expression and said, “Do me, Walker, and stop talking. Geez. Where’s my ball gag?”

As their bodies came together, he got lost in the loving words slipping from her lips and the complete and utter lack of fear in her beautiful eyes.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN


WILLOW AWOKE AT two in the morning to an empty bed. Her heart sank with old heartache, and just as quickly, she chided herself. She wasn’t going to allow her seventeen-year-old stupidity to stand in the way of her adult happiness. Blinking away the haze of sleep, she spotted Zane sitting out on the balcony overlooking the lake. He was shirtless, leaning forward. She pulled the blanket around herself and padded across the floor. He turned as she pulled open the glass door. His hair was still damp from the shower they’d taken after their sexcapade. It looked like he’d pushed his hand through it, pulling it away from his face, making his chiseled features appear even more defined.

The corners of his mouth tipped up despite the serious look in his eyes. “Hey, babe. I hope I didn’t wake you.” He reached for her hand, holding papers in the other, and guided her down beside him on the wicker sofa.

“You didn’t. Everything okay?”

He pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, and kicked his feet up on the railing. “Yeah. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Worried about your film? Is that the script?”

He shook his head. “Don’t you have to be up at the crack of dawn?”

She snuggled in closer and smiled up at him. “Yes, but when I go to bed with a hot guy and wake up alone, it kind of rattles me.”

He pressed his lips to hers. “Sorry.”

“So . . .” She eyed the papers in his hand. “If it’s not your script, what is it that has enough power to drag you from my bed when I’m naked?”

“You mean besides the fact that you talk in your sleep?”

“I do not!” Holy cow. What did I say?

He laughed. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Zane Walker, if I do talk in my sleep, it’s about recipes or something innocuous.”

“How do you know I’m not going to sell your trade secrets?”

“How do you know I didn’t videotape last night to use as blackmail when you turn into an asshat?”

“Touché, sweet girl.” He leaned in for another kiss.

“So what are you doing?”

He sat back, his eyes skirting over the lake. “I had forgotten how beautiful it is here at night.”

“Nice change of subject.”

He pushed a hand through his hair and faced her head-on. The tension around his eyes and mouth made her stomach knot up.

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. I promised to be honest. I’ve never shared this with anyone before, so cut me a little slack.” He waved the papers. “You know how I said I wanted more out of life?”

“Yes.” She sat up a little straighter, preparing for whatever shoe was going to drop.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the reason I took this role was to drive my career in a new direction. Romantic suspense, which could then lead to romantic comedy and all those silly love stories.”

“It was all over the media. You have to be excited about kissing Remi Divine. I assume you have kissing scenes.” Remi Divine was his beautiful twenty-four-year-old costar. America’s sweetheart of the moment.

“Wills.” He shook his head. “Yes, I have to kiss her, but acting kisses aren’t like real kisses.”

“Do your lips touch?” she teased.

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s a real kiss.” She snuggled closer. “But I’m not jealous or anything.”

He cocked a brow.

“Okay, maybe a little. But I’m a big girl.” I know how to hide it well. She pushed that green-eyed monster away and locked the door behind it. “Anyway, isn’t the change from action movies to romance what started the uproar with your focus group?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, that and other things. The truth is, this role is just another role for me. I thought it was the roles I was taking that were leaving me feeling empty, but after filming so much of this movie, I know that wasn’t it. As I said earlier, acting was the only thing I was good at. Not good in class? No problem. I’m athletic. I’ll become the star quarterback. Girls didn’t care that my family was poor. They saw a cute guy and made me popular. Have a poor family that doesn’t want to help themselves or help you become something more? No problem. I’ll do it on my own. Acting, acting, acting.”

He pushed his hand through his hair again and shifted, putting space between them. “Making friends was easy because of Ben. Your brother didn’t give a shit about my unambitious family or my crappy clothes or any of that. He saw me. You saw me. Your family saw me, except maybe Piper. I think part of her saw right through me.”

Willow took his hand. It was hot, nervous hot, and her heart hurt at the thought of him believing that for all these years.

“Zane, Piper didn’t think you were acting. She thought you were leading me on. That we’d hook up and I’d get hurt.”

He slid her an uncertain look. “Well, she was right.”

“But we hurt ourselves. You didn’t hurt me. I know that now.” She moved closer, needing the connection for what she was about to ask. “Do you feel like you’re acting with me now?”