“Come on, Payton. Can’t you pull some strings?” He took a big bite of the pizza and closed his eyes. “Mm. Willow Dalton, you are amazing.”
“Thank you, but I have a bakery to run, remember?” Willow had picked up a new wedding cake job last night, and she’d spent half the night coming up with ideas. Her love for baking had only increased since she’d started her business, but the truth was, she loved spending the mornings on set, too. The cast and crew were friendly, funny, and appreciative of every little thing she did, which made her want to branch out and do more, like adding pancakes and pizza for restricted diets to the menu. She’d never considered herself much of a cook beyond baking, but their praise had her considering expanding the bakery menu in addition to her other ideas. She could hardly believe the week of filming had passed so fast. Tonight she and Zane, along with Bridgette and Ben, were having dinner with Remi and her brother, and tomorrow morning they were heading back to LA. This weekend she would see Zane on his turf, in his home. She was nervous and excited to see how the man she’d come to love more than she’d ever thought possible fit into a world she had such conflicting feelings about.
“Details, details,” Patch teased. He draped an arm over her shoulder and lowered his voice. “Maybe I can get Zane to convince you by some other means.”
Little did he know that no matter how amazing sex with Zane was, it wasn’t her motivator to do a darn thing. It was the look in Zane’s eyes, the loving pitch of his voice—even when he was teasing—and the complete and utter happiness he instilled with nothing more than a smile or a shrug. It was crazy how much she loved that humble shrug.
Payton tucked her long red hair behind her ear. “Willow knows I’d happily take her on as a regular. You might be interested to know that we’re going to be ordering gifts throughout the year from her, so be a good boy and maybe I’ll send you something sweet.”
“They’re setting up for the kissing scene down by the lake. Are you going to watch?” Patch asked as they walked out of the tent.
Willow glanced at the commotion taking place down the hill. She had surprised herself this morning when she’d told Zane to “kiss the hell out of Remi,” and she’d meant it. Being with Zane had opened her eyes to a lot of things, but one of her biggest realizations was that her mother had been right. Every kiss counted. Last night Willow had finally gotten up the courage to read the scenes leading up to the kiss and the actual kissing scene. She’d found herself rooting for the characters, hoping they’d get together, just like she had with Zane’s screenplay.
“Of course,” she answered. “This is a pivotal scene, and I definitely don’t want to miss it. Keisha offered to take care of things here so I could go down and watch.”
“Cool,” Patch said. “I’ll see you down there. Remi has nixed an audience, so once they’re set up, only key people will be allowed on set. You’re with me, so you’re cool. If anyone gives you a hard time, just tell them to speak with me.”
“Thanks, Patch.” Willow watched him head down the hill and wondered about Remi’s request. She really must hate kissing scenes after all.
“Ever wonder what it’s like?” Payton asked as they returned to the tent.
Willow busied herself straightening up the tables. “Hm? What what’s like?”
“For the actors? The kissing scenes?”
Yes, way too much. “Remi said she hates them.”
Payton poured herself a cup of coffee. “Imagine you wake up feeling cranky, or bloated, or stressed about forgetting your lines. Then you get to the set, and the makeup artists are fussing with your face and hair, wardrobe is nipping and tucking, and across the set you see this incredibly hot guy. But he’s People’s Most Beautiful or he’s won an Oscar, or he’s an actor you haven’t worked with before. Other than your work on the current film together, all of which has been stressful, he’s basically a stranger. And you can flip that around for the guys, because it’s just as bad.”
“Gosh, and when I see it on the big screen, it seems so easy.”
“Want to know another trade secret that’ll burst your bubble?” She waggled her brows with a mischievous grin that reeled Willow’s curiosity right in.
“You know I do.” She leaned in closer.
“Okay, well, in the love scenes, not only are they often in full-body makeup, but the guy puts all his goodies in this flesh-colored bag and the girl wears a vag pad, which is stuck to her skin, covering up her naughty bits. And there’s often fake sweat and fifty crew members watching and the director telling them, ‘Move your hand, lift your leg, don’t smile.’ It’s awful. I’d never want to be an actress because of those scenes.”
“A flesh-colored bag?” Willow couldn’t suppress a laugh. “That sounds horrible. But it shows how good the actors and actresses are. Most love scenes look natural.”
“That’s why they get paid the big bucks.” Payton popped a blueberry in her mouth. “You’d better get down there if you want to see the scene.”
Willow walked down the hill toward the set, acutely aware of her heart ricocheting inside her chest. She’d convinced herself not to worry about this scene, but now that it was imminent, she was torn by conflicting emotions. She tried to distract herself by focusing on her surroundings.
A group of people traipsed up the hill a good distance away, and she wondered if they’d been sent away from the set. There were only a handful of people within the cordoned-off area. Zane came into focus, standing tall and handsome while one woman applied makeup and a guy fussed with his clothes. She recalled what Payton had said and wondered if all of the preparation and fussing was uncomfortable for him. Was he nervous about the kiss? If so, he’d been too cool to let her in on his anxiety, but still she had to wonder.
She knew a loving kiss and a kiss given to fulfill a work commitment were miles apart, but no matter how supportive a fiancée she wanted to be, she was still a sensitive female. Wasn’t it in every woman’s fiber to be possessive of her partner? To nurture and care for, yes, and to have and to hold? Nowhere was it written that a significant other had to support in the sharing of their partner’s toe-curling kisses.
Patch waved Willow over, and Zane’s gaze landed on her. She felt his sexual magnetism and his eager affection encircling her like a blanket. Inhaling a deep breath, she reached for her inner calm. Then she dug a little deeper, past her conflicted, jealous heart, all the way to her core, where reason rose above all else, and prepared herself to watch her man kiss another woman.