Payton turned the golf cart around and headed away from the center of town.
They left the golf cart at the curb and walked across the field toward the tower, where filming was in progress. Long grass tickled Willow’s legs, which was a good thing, because she was still a little numb after hearing what Zane had done. The tickling sensation kept her aware of her surroundings. She scanned the activity at the base of the tower. A crane held up some type of screen, forming a barrier to the right of the action. Giant spotlights and white panels, which she assumed were also for lighting, pointed just beyond a buffer of people. As they neared, she was able to get a better look at the action. They stopped a good distance away. Payton warned her not to cough, sneeze, or make any noise at all. A camera on wheels moved across tracks on the ground, and a few people shifted their positions, affording Willow a clear shot of Zane in a heated argument with another man. His face was a mask of anger and determination. Even from that distance she could see the cording of his muscles as he grabbed the guy by the collar and shook him hard enough that Willow gasped. She slapped her hand over her mouth, watching as Remi Divine, the woman who was destined to kiss Willow’s man, trembled and cried in fear behind him.
She’d seen every one of Zane’s movies several times, but she’d never thought about what it took to make the characters come to life. The man who had made love to her with tender touches and sweet whispers last night had his hands around the other man’s neck, throttling him. He was totally immersed in his character, as was Remi, who began shrieking and stumbling backward. As Willow bore witness to Zane’s rage and Remi’s fear, she silently rooted for him. It didn’t matter that this was a movie set, or that he was the hero who would, of course, win. In her head the man she adored was doing whatever it took to protect a woman, and it was the hottest, most heroic thing she’d ever seen.
Someone yelled, “Cut!” and a round of praise followed. As if Zane sensed her presence, his eyes sailed over the crew, landing on her with the heat of a thousand suns. His lips curved up, and his shoulder lifted in a shrug meant only for her. Pride and love swelled inside her, and she knew that when he finally kissed that beautiful actress, she’d be cheering him on just the same.
ZANE STOOD ON the sidewalk in front of the bakery, peering up at the illuminated W+Z lights hanging from the balcony. They’d had a late meeting after filming. It was after eleven, and he was whipped. The apartment was dark, and he wondered if their late nights had finally caught up to Willow. He headed around the corner and climbed the steps to the apartment, loving that she’d turned on that sign to welcome him home. He pushed the door open and was surprised to see candles dancing in the darkness. The scent of lilacs hung in the air.
Willow came out of the bedroom wearing a pair of sweatpants and one of Zane’s T-shirts. “Hey, you,” she said softly, and set the basket she was carrying on the coffee table. “I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your shirt, but I missed you, and I feel closer to you when I wear your things.”
“You are a sight for sore eyes, baby.” He set his bag by the door and gathered her in his arms. “My shirt has never looked so good.”
She went up on her toes and kissed him. “Don’t get any dirty ideas. I’ve got a special night planned for you.” She pointed to the couch. “Take your boots off and relax.”
“What’s the occasion?” He removed his boots and sank down to the couch. “Ah. I’ve been on my feet all day.”
“I know.” She came out of the kitchen with a mug of something steamy and set it on the coffee table beside him. “Chamomile tea. It’ll help relax you.” She sat on the far side of the couch and pulled his legs up on her lap.
“You’re pretty far away.” He’d showered in his trailer when they’d finished filming, but he lifted his arm and sniffed his pit.
She laughed. “You don’t smell, silly.” She slithered up the side of his body and kissed him. “Even if you did, it wouldn’t stop me from being close to you.”
When he tried to lift her on top of him, she wiggled out of his grip.
“Uh-uh. You just worked a hundred hours. You need to be pampered.”
He scoffed. “I’m a man. Men don’t ever need to be pampered, unless it comes in the form of you, naked.”
“Why do you think I wore this outfit? Out of sight, out of mind. Can you hand me that basket, please?”
“For another kiss.” He lifted the basket above his head.
She was so damn cute, moving up along the back of the couch with her legs trapped beneath his feet. She puckered up like a fish and laughed when he kissed her. He handed her the basket, and she tugged off his socks.
“Naked time?” he asked hopefully.
She rolled her eyes. “How was filming?”
“It went well, but I hate getting back this late. The highlight of my day was seeing you in the field.”
She smiled as she poured lotion into her hand and began massaging his foot, flooding his body with a euphoric feeling.
“Man, Wills. That feels incredible.”
“Because foot massages increase the release of hormones that create relaxation and a sense of calm. They also decrease the release of hormones that keep you stressed and tense.”
“My brilliant girl, if you follow that foot up that leg, you’ll find another part of my body that likes to be massaged.” He raised a brow, and she massaged the arch of his foot. Her hands were incredibly soft, surprisingly strong, and utterly perfect. He closed his eyes and relaxed into the cushions.
“I loved watching you today. When I see you in movies, it looks easy. I don’t know how you do it, Z. My heart was beating so hard just watching you. I wanted to run in there and jump on the guy’s back to get him away from you.”
He opened his eyes and watched her. Her brows were knitted in concentration as she rubbed his heel, the ball of his foot, and all the spots in between. “That’s because you love me, sweet cheeks.”
“Sweet cheeks? Really?”
“Do you know why I call you that?”
She shook her head.
“Because that night . . .”
She stopped rubbing his feet and looked at him.
“That night, when you were lying beneath me by the creek . . . Remember how high the moon seemed that night? And the way it cast a bluish light around us?”
She nodded, holding his foot a little tighter.
“Your cheeks were flushed, and in the moonlight you looked so sweet. You were—are—so beautiful, Wills. I’ll never forget that night, and even if you hate it, you’ll always be my sweet cheeks.”
She relaxed back against the couch, her hands moving lovingly over his feet. “I always thought it was because of my big butt.”
A laugh bubbled out before he could stop it. “Big butt? Baby, you have got the most perfect ass on the planet.”
That earned him a wide grin. “I’m glad you think so, because I’m kind of stuck with it.”
He sat up and pulled her into his arms, kissing her cheeks so many times she fell back laughing.