“He’s told this story twice already today. I swear I’ll never tire of hearing it,” Willow said. “Every time he tells it, it feels like the very first time.”
“Does it, Wills?” He shouldn’t do it, but he’d been carrying the truth around for so many years, he was dying to get it out. Even if it was done only under the guise of telling a totally unrelated story. He took both of her hands in his, spurred on by the anticipatory look in her eyes. If she thought he was going to make a snarky remark, she couldn’t have been more wrong. “Nothing has ever felt like that first night we came together. I knew then we’d end up here one day.”
Her eyes widened just a hair before her cheeks flushed. He let that soak in for a beat longer before revealing what they were all waiting to hear.
“I had been wanting to ask her for a long time, but every proposal I thought up seemed like too much or too little. And then we came here for the weekend. We both snuck away under the pretense of being somewhere else.” He lifted Willow’s hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, watching her intently. The pulse at the base of her neck was beating faster than before, and her lips parted, as if she were hanging on to his every word. Damn, he loved that look, and he couldn’t believe she was giving it to him. He silently vowed to earn it over and over again.
He glanced at Cheryl. “We have to stay under the radar of the paparazzi, because my Willow really hates being in the spotlight.” He dropped his gaze to Willow’s hand, which had gone warm in his. “I’ll never forget standing on that gazebo with the morning haze hovering over the water, and Willow . . .” He brushed his thumb over her knuckles. “She looked angelic with the sun rising at her back, like all the colors of the sunrise were made just for her. Just for that moment.” He met Willow’s gaze and said, “Just for our moment.”
Her breathing hitched, and he knew she was remembering their night together, too, when he’d last said our moment. His throat was so thick with emotion he couldn’t force his words out.
“He got down on one knee,” Willow said just above a whisper, holding his gaze, saving his ass and owning up to the lie. The fantasy? “I’ll never forget that moment. He looked at me like I was the only thing that existed. He didn’t have to say a word. Even if he hadn’t been down on one knee, I would have known what was coming.” She reached a shaky hand up and touched his scruff, a small smile lifting her lips. “He said, ‘There’s only me and you, Wills. This is our moment.’”
You remember. He swallowed hard, trying to gain control of the resurgence of emotions he’d struggled to ignore for all these years, because Willow had made the rules, and the last thing he’d wanted to do was hurt her by breaking more of them than he already had.
CHAPTER FOUR
WILLOW WAVED GOODBYE to Cheryl and the others as she and Zane headed down the dock in a bubble of awkwardness. Cheryl had made dinner on the boat, but Willow had been too nervous to eat more than a bite. Zane had been looking at her weirdly ever since she’d forgotten how to shut the hell up and had taken over his story.
Oh my God, his story. She’d been so caught up in his fake proposal that when he’d said, “Our moment,” he’d opened some sort of floodgate to the past. It hadn’t helped that when Zane had offered Jay the rest of the money he’d promised for letting them hijack their boat, Jay had pushed his hand away and said, “Keep it. It was nice getting to know you both. My wife always says those gossip magazines are full of lies. Now we know she’s right. We hope you have a long, happy marriage.” The color had drained from Zane’s face, like he’d been caught having real feelings for Willow, and she’d felt the impact like a freight train slamming into the barriers she’d erected out of self-preservation.
She focused on the lights of the resort twinkling against the night sky instead of the frantic beating of her heart and the whathefuckamIdoing playing in her head. Every time she stole a glance at Zane, he shifted his eyes away, and a second later she felt the heat of his gaze burning into her.
This was crazy. They’d been friends forever. Even when they’d slept together, things hadn’t been this awkward. One of them needed to break the ice. She looked up at the same time he looked over, and their eyes locked. Lord, he was looking at her that way again, with his chin tipped low and hunger in his eyes, but there was something else behind the heat. Something she’d seen only once in her life, as he’d lain above her down by the creek. Something she was probably mistaken about, given the totally effed-up state of her mind.
She said, “Hey, why don’t we—” at the same time he said, “Let’s go—”
He raked a hand through his hair, his laughter breaking the tension. She loved the sound of his laugh when he wasn’t trying to be the Zane Walker. He had a wonderfully deep, carefree laugh that reminded her of fun-filled summer afternoons at the lake and family barbecues after he and Ben had played a winning football or baseball game.
“Whiskey?” he suggested.
“Make it a double.”
They headed across the lawn toward a long deck that led to an outdoor bar overlooking the water, weaving through a sea of people who were dancing and laughing, shouting out one toast after another. At the center of a mass of twentysomethings was a dark-haired couple wearing sparkling crowns. A band played at the far end of the deck. They’d obviously stumbled upon some sort of bachelor/bachelorette party. The perfect distraction.
Zane plowed through the crowd, making a beeline toward the bar.
Willow followed him between two guys. “Sorry,” she said. The crowd seemed to swell, and they pressed in on her. Are you shitting me? She felt a hand circle her waist and turned, catching the threatening glare Zane gave the guys before he tugged her out from between them.
“What are you doing?” His eyes darted around them.
“Me? You plowed ahead and left me to trail behind.” She wrenched free. “Not exactly the way a fiancé should act, I might point out.”
An apology rose in his eyes. “Sorry, baby.”
With his arm securely around her, he pushed through the crowd and flagged down the bartender.
A beautiful blonde with breasts that looked like they were ready to tumble out of her low-cut blouse leaned across the bar. “What’ll it be?” she shouted over the noise.
“Two whiskeys, neat.”
“Make them doubles,” Willow added.
Zane chuckled.
“What? I don’t want to fight the crowd again in five minutes.”