The Real Thing (Sugar Lake #1)

“Nothing,” she grumbled, and stopped beside her car.

“You brought Chloe?” He knew she didn’t like to put extra miles on Chloe. When her father had given her the car, she’d said she loved it too much to take it to college, where anything could happen to it.

“Yes, I brought Chloe. My van had a flat, and I thought I had a big meeting that would finally put Sweetie Pie Bakery on the map.”

Her eyes rolled over his face, and guilt sliced into him. He put his hand on the car door so she couldn’t open it. “Wait. I can help you get Sweetie Pie on the map, and you can help me win over the public.”

“Uh-huh. How? Cater our fake wedding?” She shook her head. “Go get some Hollywood actress to play your part. Can’t you just ask your costar? Remi Divine? Costars hook up all the time, from what I hear. I’ve got to go.”

He tugged her against him again, knowing he shouldn’t. Knowing she might knee him in the junk. But he was desperate, and he loved the way she felt. “I don’t want to ask Remi Divine. I want you. I’ll make sure you cater the set.”

Her brows knitted, as if she was considering it.

“Think about it, Willow. You’ll be my fiancée. You and your bakery’s name will be all over the tabloids. You’ll gain more exposure than you can handle.”

“As your fake fiancée,” she said skeptically.

“Yes.” He tightened his hold on her. “Please.”

She huffed, but her gaze softened. “Zane, nobody who knows me will believe this.”

He wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her close as his other hand slid beneath her hair, and he kneaded the back of her shoulder the way he knew she loved. “I’ve got this, Wills. I’d never leave you hanging, feeling unprepared, like you didn’t know what your next move should be.” He felt the tension drain from her body, and just as quickly, as if she’d noticed her guard slipping, she stepped back, putting distance between them again.

“I can’t just leave my bakery closed this weekend. I don’t make millions on movies, Zane. I need my income.”

“Patch already wired the money you thought you were earning for the event into your account.”

She shook her head.

He stepped close again. “Don’t look at me like I’ve crossed some imaginary line. We’re very good at crossing lines, remember?” That earned him the sweet, feathery laugh he loved so much, and he knew he almost had her. “Cross this line with me, Willow.”

“I’m supposed to just give up my life for you to save your rep? For how long?”

“Until the week after we’re done shooting in Sweetwater. Then we can stage a breakup, and I’ll drag my broken heart back to California to finish filming. The tabloids will cover it, and you can go back to your life. Only better, because everyone will know who you are.”

“This is crazy. What about my family?”

“We’ve been secretly meeting for months. We didn’t want to tell them because we weren’t sure it would last.”

“You’ve actually put thought into this. Or Patch did.”

“Give me some credit. I’ve got our whole backstory figured out. All we need is this weekend together.” He brushed his scruff along her cheek and whispered, “Please? For old times’ sake?”

“God, I hate you right now.” She huffed out another, slightly less frustrated breath. “I have to be back tomorrow night to get ready for Louie’s birthday party on Sunday.” Louie was her sister Bridgette’s almost five-year-old son.

“Done. We’ll go back tomorrow.”

Confusion riddled her brow. “You’re coming with me?”

“Of course. We’re engaged, remember?”

“I don’t know, Zane. You’re asking a lot of me.” She crossed her arms again.

“I know I am. But, Wills, who do you text when you need advice from someone other than family? Who do you text when you have a bad breakup or want to bitch about needing a foot rub after a particularly long week?”

Their lives were threaded with texts giving each other as much support as they did torment. Over the years she’d turned to him for advice about everything, from risking her savings to open her bakery to things that annoyed the shit out of him, like which slinky dress she should wear on dates. He always chose the one that covered the most skin. Their relationship had been strained for months after they’d slept together, but he’d never been able to stay away from Willow. She was his voice of reason, his sounding board, his friend, despite the annoyance shooting from her eyes at the moment.

“I have no ring,” she snapped. “You’re a rich actor. I would need a ring to pull this off.”

He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a Tiffany’s jewelry box, and flipped the top open. Willow’s jaw dropped again, and then her luscious lips curved into a smile.

“A princess cut?” she said breathlessly. “Aw, Zane. You do have a heart. You remembered I loved them?”

Princess cut? “Uh, yeah. Of course.”

Her mouth formed a pin-straight line again. “Patch got this, didn’t he?”

He shrugged. “I was filming.”

“Jesus, Zane.” She pushed away.

“Give me a break, Willow. I’m here, aren’t I? I didn’t send Patch. It’s a rented ring, anyway. It’s not like I sent him out to get you a real engagement ring.”

She eyed the diamond.

“It’s a real diamond. You know what I mean.” Willow had a generous soul, and as he watched her mulling over his situation, he saw her resolve softening. He remembered how conflicted he’d been about giving in to her request all those years ago, and he remembered why he’d done it. He closed the distance between them, making a concerted effort not to act, not to be the cocky guy his fans knew him to be, but to find the person he’d been all those years ago. If he could show her that Zane, the Zane she’d trusted, then she’d remember, too.

“Wills, there was a time when I was the only person you trusted to do you a favor. I’m asking the same of you.”

She looked at him for a long moment.

“Please? I need you, Willow.”

“God, Zane.” The defeated whisper cut him to his core. “You’ll make sure I cater during some of the filming?” she asked skeptically.

“Yes.” Please do this for me, Wills.

“And it’s only for—”

“Two weeks. A week when we go back to Sweetwater to get everyone used to the idea, then a week of filming. After that you can publicly break up with me and we’ll each go back to our lives. But you can’t tell anyone this is a fake arrangement.”

“I must be crazy, but . . . fine. But you’re helping me clean out Chloe.”

He hauled her into his arms again. “Of course. Anything. Thank you so much. You’re the best. For a minute there I thought you’d turn me down.”

“Who was your fallback girl? Your backup plan?” She set her hand on her hip, glaring at him again.

“You didn’t have a backup plan that summer. I didn’t think I needed one now.” He draped an arm around her waist. “Let’s get your stuff and put it in our room, and I’ll fill you in on our whirlwind relationship.”