accepted a date with him. It was just like her to make his life a little crazier. But then maybe that was why he’d been asking her out.
Jack looked around his apartment, making sure every detail was perfect. It wasn’t so much that he was nervous—hey, he was Jack Crown and every woman wanted to be with him—but this was Willow. He couldn’t say for sure when he’d become so obsessed with her.
He suspected it was because unlike every other girl he met, she just … treated him like he was part of her crew. No special smiles, no attempts to get him alone. He knew that shouldn’t bother him. But it did.
He had faint memories of her from high school when she’d tutored him in language arts so he wouldn’t fail the state test and could continue to play football. But that was all. Just flashes of a younger Willow interspersed with his football-playing days.
Back then football was his life. Considering he’d grown up in Texas on the poorer side of town, there was only one real ticket out of poverty for him—sports. He’d gone on to be a Heisman Trophy–winning wide receiver and then a first-round draft pick for the New York Giants. Unfortunately, his first time-out he’d been brought down by a career-ending tackle. He’d learned after his injury that he was going to have to find something else to do and quick. Luckily he’d always had an affinity for being on camera and had been able to segue into a broadcasting gig.
The buzzer rang and he hurried over to answer it. His converted loft building had a state-of-the-art security system. When he hit a button, a small black-and-white screen showed Willow standing at the outside door.
He buzzed her in and then glanced around the apartment to make sure everything was in order. He didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that Willow wasn’t going to give him another chance at getting this right. This working date had to be perfect.
There was a knock on the door and he smiled to himself as he crossed to open it. He planned on knocking her socks off and ensuring that when she left his apartment—preferably in the morning—she’d be dying to see him again.
Willow had an earthy sensuality about her that made him more aware of her sexually each time they met. At first, he’d just wanted to rekindle their old friendship, but as she’d continued to ignore him, she’d awakened something primal inside of him. He suspected an affair with Willow would affect their working relationship, but at this point he knew his ego would settle for nothing less than having her. He needed to prove to both of them that she’d made a mistake by ignoring him.
He opened the door and Willow scowled up at him. She looked tired and thin, something he hadn’t noticed when they were on the set or even in the editing booth. She always moved with so much energy, but tonight she seemed worn out.
Not exactly the right mood he needed her in. But he’d grown up with a single mom and had learned early on how to cheer her up with a lot of attention. So he shifted gears in his head.
He pulled her close for a hug, rubbing her back. But she wedged her arms between them. “What are you doing?”
“You looked like you needed a hug,” he said, stepping back and leading her into his apartment. It wasn’t overly luxurious like the apartment they’d photographed him at for Architectural Digest a few months back. He couldn’t live like that. He supposed it was the small-town Texas boy in him but that kind of opulence made him feel out of place.
His loft was an open floor plan with a kitchen at one end and a huge entertainment area on the other. That was one thing he didn’t mind splurging on. There were large comfortable couches as well as a nicely appointed dining area.
“I could use a drink,” Willow said.
“Wine, beer or something stronger?” he asked. He had a fully stocked bar, even though he wasn’t much of a drinker. He didn’t like feeling out of control. He’d learned that after a brief stint of stupidity when he’d been recovering from his knee injury and had had no job prospects.
“What kind of wine do you have?” she asked.
“Just about every kind. I endorse a vineyard and they send me a case of everything they make,” he said with a wry grin.
“That’s right. You’re everyone’s favorite ad man. I like dry white wine,” she said.
“Coming right up. Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes. Do you want to go out on the balcony?” he asked.
“It’s cold outside,” she said.
“I have those patio heaters. You’ll be comfortable,” he said.
She nodded and turned away from him. He watched her walk slowly across his apartment before he started toward the kitchen. She was on edge and didn’t seem to be in the mood to enjoy this evening with him. If he was a different kind of man he’d give up but he was used to overcoming odds and coming out the winner. After all everyone said after his career-ending football injury that he was going to have to go back to Frisco, Texas. But he hadn’t.
He poured them both a glass of wine and headed out to the balcony. It was quiet, thanks to the glass walls that surrounded the patio area, and warm, thanks to his heaters.
“Thanks,” she said. “Sorry I was so snippy earlier.”
“No problem,” he said. He lifted his glass to hers. “To new beginnings.”
“New beginnings,” she said. “For tonight or since we met?”
Something about what she said made him realize that the past might hold the key to whatever the problem was between them. “For everything. I know I’ve changed since I left Frisco and I’m sure you have, too.”
“Not as much as you’d think,” she said, taking a sip of her wine. “I still love football and feel guilty if I don’t go to church on Sunday. Though the Baptist church I attend here is nothing like Prestonwood back home.”
He chuckled. No state did religion like Texas. “I know what you mean. My mom is praying for my soul since I’m usually working and don’t get to church as often as I should.”
“Sinner. You’re such a bad boy,” she said, but there was a grin on her face when she said it.
“Haven’t I always been?”
“Yes, you have. Tell me about the new Jack Crown. What haven’t I seen?” she asked.
He started to talk about himself but stopped. He wasn’t sure why but he knew that going on and on about his TV shows and his lifestyle wasn’t the right tack with Willow. “I’m not interested in that. Tell me about you. I remember in high school you wanted to be a writer.”
He saw the momentary surprise in her eyes before she masked it. She turned away from him, took another sip of her wine and then cleared her throat. “That’s right, I did, but once I got to school I realized that I’m more into telling people what to do.”
He grinned as he suspected she wanted him to. But he’d been a star athlete and had lost the ability to play his game so he knew that dreams—especially those that were held since childhood—were hard to let go of. “I’m glad it was easy for you to transition. It wasn’t for me.”
“From football?” she asked. “I saw the game where you were injured and despite everything
