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think?” Willow asked. “Deidre seems very much in control and bossy to me. I was guessing she told Peter to do something and he didn’t do it.”

      “Might be. They both like to be in charge,” Jack said. “If she gets a new man, would we have to start all over again with them?”

      “Yes. It would mean three weeks of wasted filming,” Willow said. “Do you know Deidre well enough to call her up and chat with her?”

      “Yes, I do.”

      “How do you know her? She doesn’t move in the Hollywood circles you do,” Willow said.

      “She was my therapist after my accident. She was the one who helped steer me toward broadcasting.”

      Willow hadn’t thought about how he’d transitioned to his current career. She’d just thought … well, that he was the golden boy so things worked out for him. She’d been a little jealous of how easy his life looked from her point of view but she was getting glimpses of him that made her realize Jack’s life wasn’t as effortless as it seemed.

      “I’d love it if you would call and talk to her. Can you do it now? I’ll text Mona and tell her to wait before she talks to Deidre.”

      “Yes, I can do it, but only if you promise you’ll do me a favor in return,” he said.

      “Okay,” she said.

      “Don’t you want to know what I want?”

      “Nope. I need her to stay matched to Peter so I don’t have to throw out three weeks worth of work.”

      Jack lifted one eyebrow at her. “Whatever I ask for you’ll do?”

      She would probably regret this. “Yes, a favor of your choosing.”

      “Good. Drink your coffee while I save the day,” he said before going upstairs.

      She stood up and walked around his apartment. She was surprised that his walls weren’t lined with photos of himself and celebrities. He gave the impression that he’d have lots of those but there weren’t any on display. Instead there was a painting by the celebrated Texan Charles Beckendorf. The craggy valleys of the Texas canyons provided a backdrop for a longhorn steer that stared out at the viewer.

      She had one of his paintings hanging in her brownstone in Brooklyn. As soon as she’d started making real money she had decided to invest in art and had begun by supporting artists from her home state. She had also endowed a scholarship for girls from her high school.

      She moved past the painting, feeling a little homesick for Texas after viewing it. Next was a picture she recognized from their high school yearbook. It was their state champion football team. She didn’t have to search to find Jack in the photo since she knew exactly where he was—in the second row, center. His smile was wider than the Texas sky. Coach Masters stood in the middle of the group and all of the starters crowded around him.

      “I’ve never been as happy as I was in that moment,” Jack said, coming up behind her. He reached around her to run his finger over the trophy in the picture. “I thought that my life was set.”

      She glanced over at him. That photo had been earth-shattering for her as well. Seeing it had made her think, This is it; I’m going to figure out how to hurt him like he hurt me. But hearing Jack talk about it with a tinge of wistfulness in his voice, she realized that even back then his life hadn’t been as perfect as she’d thought.

      “What did Deidre say?” she asked. For Willow when life got too uncomfortable she turned to work. And thank God that she and Jack had a job in common.

      He rubbed the back of his neck and then smiled at her. “She said she’d give him another chance. I think one of us, maybe you, should pull Peter aside and tell him to slow down just a little bit. He’s going too fast for her.”

      “But that’s how I get good TV,” Willow said.

      “I know, but if he doesn’t he’ll scare her off, and you don’t want that, do you?”

      “No, I don’t,” she said. “It’d be so much easier if we could script things for them. But I know that the viewers wouldn’t enjoy it as much.”

      “You’re right. Just think—you couldn’t have scripted that moment when Alex Cannon first held little Bella Ann. That was pure heartwarming television. You could see him melt,” Jack said.

      “Yes, you could. And let’s face it, if Gail and Russell, Alex and Fiona, and Rikki and Paul could make it work, so can Deidre and Peter. He must have something that she wants.”

      “He must,” Jack said.

      Willow glanced at her watch. It was almost nine. She should be going soon. But first she texted Mona to say that the problem had been solved and that there was no need for her to find another match for Deidre right now.

      “I guess I should be heading home. We’re shooting early tomorrow,” she said.

      “Before you go …” he said.

      Damn, she should have known she wasn’t going to get out the door without doing this.

      “Yes?”

      “You owe me a favor, remember?”

      Of course she remembered. She had been so desperate to keep Deidre on the show that she’d acted rashly. Or had she? A part of her realized that she wanted to owe Jack something so that she’d have an excuse to keep on seeing him.

      “So what exactly do you want from me?”

      “A kiss.”

      Three

      A kiss.

      Really, she shouldn’t be that surprised, and since he asked for it as a favor, she could just enjoy it guilt free. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit that she had once spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about kissing him.

      “Okay,” she said, trying hard to sound blasé. But instead her voice did a squeaky thing and she felt as lame as she had in high school when he’d asked her to go to the Dairy Queen for a cone.

      He laughed, but it wasn’t unkind, and for the first time since she’d entered his apartment she felt like she was seeing a glimpse of the real man. Because in that laugh was a hint of her own nervousness. And that made him human. She got what he’d been trying to explain earlier—that despite the success and fame he’d found, at heart he was still just a regular guy.

      “Are you sure? I don’t want a repeat of when I tried to hug you,” he said.

      She nodded, not trusting her own voice. She wanted to kiss him. She’d never gotten a kiss back in high school and though she’d moved past living as that girl she still had an imaginary bucket list that included kissing Jack Crown.

      He leaned down toward her and she tipped her head back, not realizing until they were this close how much taller he was than her. She closed her eyes as his hands settled on her shoulders and he drew her in toward him. Though their bodies didn’t touch, she could feel his body heat.

      She felt the warmth of his breath over her mouth first. It had the pleasant scent of the coffee he’d drunk after dinner. The brush of his lips over hers was exhilarating; she felt tingles from her lips down her neck and to the very core of her body.

      It was a gentle start but not tentative at all. She sensed he was taking care not to scare her off.

      His mouth opened slowly on hers and she held her breath, trying to analyze this moment so she could pull it out and examine it later, but thought was impossible as a wave of sensation rolled over her. He tasted perfect, and unlike some of the men she’d kissed in the past, there was no awkward desire to pull back from him.

      He feathered his tongue lightly into her mouth as he massaged her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. Then his tongue went deeper into her mouth, until shivers of desire coursed

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