Page 4

Zach

At some point during the drive, my fake little wife runs out of questions for me to refuse to answer, and I pretend to fall asleep. I find myself sneaking glances her way every couple of minutes, and I’m so focused on her that I almost miss the Valor Springs sign.

Zoey Ballerini is an interesting woman. She isn’t the first to pretend to be my partner to get access to me, but she’s the first I have let get this far. I steal glances at her as she drives, her chest rising and falling gently with each breath. The soft light filtering through the windshield dances across her face, highlighting her features, and I can’t help but marvel at her beauty. My grip on her hand tightens instinctively, almost afraid that she’s an illusion I conjured after dealing with all the stress from the media.

But no, she’s real. Very much so.

Around her, the outside world seems to fade away, and my thoughts don’t wander to what’s waiting for me in Valor Springs. I haven’t been able to take my mind off her long enough to think about the past, and with her by my side, my mind is less chaotic.

We’re almost at our destination when she shifts and glances over at me, startling when she catches me watching her. Her fingers twitch slightly in mine. “I thought you were asleep.” She pulls her hand from mine to run it through her hair, pushing away dark strands clinging to her face. “We just entered your hometown.”

“Valor Springs,” I respond with a nod just as the town comes into view. My heart starts hammering as I stare at the familiar landscape. It’s been so fucking long, but the town looks almost the same as it did back then. The buildings lining the main street are a charming mix of old and new, painted in colors that seem to come alive under the soft glow of the afternoon sun. I take it all in, my eyes darting from one storefront to another, mentally cataloging what has changed and what has remained the same.

I glance over at Zoey, her gaze darting around as we drive slowly through the center of town, and I try to view Valor Springs through the eyes of someone who has never been here before. To her, it probably looks like any other small town in the country with quaint little shops that have existed for generations.

“So, this is the town that birthed the talented Zach Westwood,” she mumbles as we drive further into the heart of the town. I don’t let it show how much being back here affects me. Over ten years ago, I lost the man I admired most in the world. Staying here—a town that holds so many memories—proved to be too much for my family, so we agreed to sell our childhood home and leave town. My brother Howard joined the military, my parents moved south, and I went to live with my uncle, who was a NASCAR driver himself. I trained and worked alongside him, pushing myself to my limits and blocking out all thoughts of this little town that held all of my childhood memories.

Five years ago, Howard returned to Valor Springs and suggested pooling funds to buy a home so we could both have a place to retreat if needed. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I had no intention of coming back to Valor Springs, so I went along with his plan and we bought a house—one I never imagined I would ever live in.

And now, I’m back here.

Valor Springs is the one place I picture when I think of home, and I question if the town will embrace me after being away for so long. Knowing the residents of Valor Springs , they’ll probably treat me like the prodigal son finally making his way back home. For the first time since meeting Zoey, I am glad that I am not doing this alone.

“Are you hungry?” I ask the girl who’s suddenly gone quiet beside me. “There’s a bakery a block from here that makes the best pastries in town.”

Zoey turns to me, her gaze wide and excited. “How would you know? You said haven’t been to Valor Springs for years.”

“It hasn’t changed one bit. I would bet you a hundred bucks that the bakery is still there. Another fifty that it’s run by the same owner.”

“I’ll take that bet,” she says, and I smirk. “Besides, I could eat. I skipped breakfast this morning because I was too nervous to meet you. I’ll never turn down a good pastry though.”

“I’m beginning to think you’re a fan masquerading as a blogger.”

“I think I would have a better chance the other way around. You wouldn’t be this hard on me if I was just a fan. You are much crueler to the press than actual fans.”

I smirk as I point out the bakery. “Well, all my fans want is a picture and an autograph, but you, on the other hand, want to dig into my deepest darkest secrets for attention.”

“Hey, it’s not just for the attention,” she says with a mock glare, pushing open the car door. “I’m dying of curiosity too.”

“Speaking of curiosity…” I nod toward the bakery. I stare at the entrance, and my mind is quickly drawn back to days when my brother and I would run in before our parents, yelling for the desserts we wanted and whining when we were only allowed to have one.

“You still haven’t won the bet. I have to be sure that the owner has worked here for at least a decade.”

Zoey’s voice snaps me to the present, and I turn to her when she steps up to my side. “The owner’s name is Annie. If she responds to that name, then you lose the bet.”

“Sure, let’s go in.”

She walks in ahead of me, almost as if she can sense my hesitation, and there must be a magnet attached between us because I follow behind. The second we step inside we’re immediately enveloped by the warm inviting scent of freshly baked goods. The rich aromas of cinnamon rolls and chocolate croissants dance in the air, reminding me of the past I’ve done my best to forget.

Unsurprisingly, the bakery is bustling with life. Annie’s pastries were really popular back in the day, and I don’t imagine that has changed over the years. The space itself is cozy, with sunlight streaming through the large windows casting a beautiful golden glow on the wood tables.

“Wow!” Zoey whispers from my side, and I follow her gaze to the display case filled with an array of pastries, each looking more delicious than the last. “This place is amazing.”

“It is,” I respond, shifting my eyes from the pastries to the baker standing behind the counter with a look of surprise on her face.

Annie.

One of my mother’s oldest friends and the town’s favorite—and only—baker. God, she hasn’t aged a day. She looks just as she did years ago when my family used to frequent this place. She must recognize me because the look of surprise morphs into something else as her entire face lights up with a wide smile.

“As I live and breathe!” she gasps, rounding the counter and rushing toward us. I’m taken by surprise when the short woman wraps her arms around my shoulders in a tight hug before leaning back to look at me. “If it isn’t Zach Westwood in the flesh, gracing our humble little town with his presence after so long!”

“Annie, it’s great to see you,” I choke out. “You haven’t aged a day since the last time I was here.”

“What has it been? Fifteen years?”

“Ten.”

“You say it like it’s nothing. Welcome back home, son,” she says with a warm smile before turning her attention to my company. “And who did you bring with you?”

“My wife, Zoey Ballerini,” I say before Zoey can introduce herself, taking everyone by surprise if the silence that suddenly settles over the busy shop is anything to go by.

“Did you just say she was your wife?” Annie waits for my nod before carrying on. “I guess the Westwood brothers have finally decided to settle down, huh? First your brother and now you?”

“We all have to settle down at some point,” I say, and I know the news will make its rounds through Valor Springs before the day is over. Maybe the news of me having a wife, however fake it may be, will take the attention off the fact that I’m returning after so long. Being a buffer between me and further unwanted attention is the least Zoey can do after kidnapping me from the rental lot.

“It’s good to see you all grown up. Now tell me what you want; it’s on the house.”

I smile at the offer before turning to Zoey, who seems surprised by the whole interaction. She doesn’t comment on the wife thing as she picks out pastries and coffee to go, paying despite Annie’s insistent that it’s on her.

In the short time we spend at the bakery, we attract enough attention that I can’t wait to get back to the car. And it’s not until we’re strapped in and pulling away from the curb that I am able to breathe again, and not just because I’m in the driver’s seat this time.

“I think I’ve figured you out,” Zoey says, biting into her muffin as I drive us to the location of the house my brother and I bought. He mentioned he would be away for the week with his girlfriend, so I guess I have the place to myself until I can figure out what to do next. “You have social anxiety.”

“And you came to that conclusion how exactly?”

“By watching you.”

I chuckle, deeply amused by this girl in ways I haven’t been in a long time. “You’re mistaken. I don’t have social anxiety.”

“Then why did you look like you were about to lose it back at the bakery?”

“It’s this town,” I say, staring out the windshield as we get closer and closer to our destination. “It holds such bittersweet memories. It makes me want to leave and stay at the same time.”

“Huh,” she hums before falling back on her seat, and the rest of the drive happens in silence. Five minutes later, we’re pulling up in front of a modest single-story house with a charming little front yard. The house looks way better than I imagined, and the pictures Howard sent don’t do it justice, but somehow, it doesn’t feel like mine despite contributing half of what was used to buy it.

The feeling is back.

The need to quickly back out of the driveway and speed out of town is strong, but it feels like I am glued to my seat. I can’t drive away, but I can’t exit the car either.

“Hey.” My heart skips a couple of beats when Zoey’s hand lands on my arm, drawing my attention from the house to her. “Your human is showing,” she whispers, her eyes searching mine, and I get lost in her pretty brown gaze.

“What?” I choke out.

“You are an alien, remember? Right now, you are slipping and your human is beginning to show.”

“You should start your article by claiming I’m an alien,” I say, trying to deflect her attention from the fact that I’m obviously panicking about being in Valor Springs.

Zoey shakes her head, smiling softly at me, and my eyes instinctively drop to that sexy, pouty mouth. “Not everything I say is about the interview, Zach,” she whispers, leaning toward me. I notice her pupils dilate as she moves closer until there’s only a hair’s breadth between us. “For the record, I was a fan way before I became a blogger.”

I’m not entirely sure what makes me move, but without conscious thought, I close the distance between us and press my mouth to Zoey’s.

Out of the blue, I am kissing the girl. I’d love to be able to blame it on the heightened emotions of being home for the first time in so long, and maybe that’s a small part of it, but I can’t deny that I’ve been thinking about this moment since I first laid eyes on Zoey.

I wanted to kiss her—every inch of her perfect body—before claiming her for myself, but I forced myself not to make a move. Now what little control I had has snapped. Her mouth is soft under mine, moving gently and almost shyly, causing my cock to stiffen behind my pants. I expect her to push back in horror or something equally dramatic, but instead, she makes a low whimpering sound at the back of her throat before pushing in for more.

It’s awkward, the kiss. Painfully awkward at that, but she doesn’t seem perturbed by it. With her soft lips pressed on mine, I tug off her seat belt before lifting her over the console and onto my lap. It’s almost like something has taken over her body as she straddles me, her skirt rucking up to her waist as she sits herself on my lap and presses against the hard ridge of my erection.

As if frustrated by the layers of clothing between us, she claws my shoulders, her breathing harsh against my lips. Fuck, her pussy is so close to my aching shaft, and the way she rubs herself on me only further tests my control.

“Zach…”

“What are you now?” I ask, my voice thick with desire. Despite the ache burning inside of me from having the girl on top of me, I don’t touch her. “Are you a journalist trying to convince me to give her an interview or a fan trying to have their way with their favorite driver?”

“D-do I have to choose for you to kiss me back?”

“Yes.” Choose wisely, kitten.

“Can’t it be both? Do I have to be one without the other?”

“In this case, yes,” I say firmly, unwilling for her to seduce me with the hopes of giving her something I can’t promise her.

I want her.

Christ, I want this girl so bad. Perhaps more than I’ve wanted anyone before. This was obvious from the moment I saw her standing in the lot, waiting for me. And I have wanted her every moment since, but I don’t want to go into this with her thinking of it as a trade for the interview.

“A fan,” she whispers, rolling her hips slowly over my erection, and I force back a strangled groan that threatens to escape. “A fan crazy enough to disguise herself as your wife just so she could be in the same space with you.”

“Great choice.”

Her mouth locks on mine, but this time, I take control. With a harsh growl, I slide my hand into her hair, combing my fingers through her short strands before grabbing a fistful and causing her lips to part with a gasp. I deepen the kiss, winding our tongues together in an erotic dance and tasting every inch of her mouth. I groan at her softness, getting drunk on the taste of her lips, and I can’t get enough.

Jesus, she’s a siren. Pulling me in without so much as uttering a word, and I let myself be seduced. I let myself drown in her softness and the sweetness of her scent.

Mine! comes the unbidden thought.

Zoey whimpers into the kiss when my hand drops to her back, her breath hitching sharply when I knead her juicy ass with my palms. She writhes needily against me, and I am too weak to stop her, gripping her ass firmly as she works her hips over my erection. “Oh God,” she whimpers; her moves become frantic, and the kiss turns into a press of lips with harsh breathing. “Zach…I… Feels good.”

My neck is strained, and my balls ache with the threat to explode, but I do nothing but watch this temptress chase her pleasure, riding the ridge of my dick to do so. Fuck, I have never seen anything so fucking hot in my entire life.

Zoey bites her lip, her head falling back as she rubs her panty-covered pussy over my erection, a pretty flush on her neck and cheeks. She’s a goddamn dream with her eyes heavy and lips parted over whimpering pants, her fingers pressing into my shoulders as she works her hips in different angles, so desperate for relief.

“You are so needy for this, kitten. I wonder how you’ll act when I bury my cock inside of your hungry little pussy.”

Her hips jerk hard against me. “Oh God!” she whimpers, and I can tell she’s close. I tighten the hand in her hair before slamming my mouth back on hers, devouring her as she rolls her hips furiously, the friction pushing her closer to the edge. “Zach!”

A rough tremor rocks through her system as she orgasms, my mouth firmly on hers and swallowing her pleasured moans. She’s a sight to behold, and I want nothing more than to have her. My balls are heavy and my cock is painfully hard after her little performance, and I realize I would do anything to have this girl.

To make her mine.

No, this won’t cut it. One night won’t do. Now that I know what she sounds and feels like when she comes apart, I would rather die than let another man experience this. Zoey doesn’t know it yet, but she bound herself to me the second she jumped into my car. Perhaps it happened when she claimed to be my wife.

I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep Zoey with me, interview be damned. I’m not going to answer a few questions only to watch her walk out of my life immediately after. If she wants to get to know me, she’s going to have to do it the old-fashioned way.