at his life and think he could be like everyone else? He’d won a Heisman Trophy. They only gave out one a year, so that put him in an elite sportsman category. He’d been named Associated Press Athlete of the Year and played professional football before going on to be the host of some of the most popular shows on TV. He was never going to be an average Joe.
“Yes, I do, but with you I feel like I am. All the trappings of the celebrity lifestyle aren’t important to you,” he said.
“That’s true. I’ve seen the other side of celebrity,” she said.
“Me, too. We are uniquely suited for each other,” he said, waggling his eyebrows and smiling over at her.
“I don’t know.” She did know. If she played this right she could get him thinking that maybe he could have something with her. Then she’d walk away.
“Come on, how many people do you meet in this business from Frisco, Texas?” he said with that half smile of his that reminded her a little too much of the boy who’d first stolen her heart.
She put down her fork and took a sip of her wine. Revenge, she thought. She had to stay focused on what she really wanted or she was going to lose her way.
He reached over and touched her hand. A little zing shot up her arm. His touch unnerved her as much now as it had when he’d hugged her earlier. He ran his finger over her knuckles and then turned her hand over in his and traced the lines on her palm.
“I’m only asking for a chance here,” he said.
A chance. To do what? He’d said he wanted a regular relationship but had never had a chance to have that because of his celebrity.
And she wanted what Nichole had suggested. A chance to find some happiness for herself down the line. So she had to do something with Jack. Had to find a way to make peace with her past so she could trust again. And she knew now that unless he was hiding cloven hooves and the devil’s tail she wasn’t going to be able to be as coldly calculating as she’d thought she could be. She’d thought that focusing on getting back at him would be enough to protect her but maybe it wasn’t.
“A chance, eh? Just dating?” she asked. She didn’t want to admit it—even to herself—but the thought of walking away from him was beginning to fade.
“Yes, dating. It’s not going to be easy since I have to fly back and forth between the coasts all the time but I do want a chance to get to know you better. A chance to prove that there is more to me than Prince Charming.”
“I’ve never called you Prince Charming,” she said.
“Everyone knows I am,” he said with that stupid arrogant grin of his. “Let’s face it, you even said I was charming.”
Suddenly she thought it might not be too hard to hurt him if he was going to act like this. Was this the real Jack Crown? She had no idea, and she never would unless she took a chance on him.
“Fine, we can date,” she said. But as she looked into those very blue eyes of his, she couldn’t help a niggling sensation that this was a bad idea. She was susceptible to Jack. She always had been. And she knew how easy it was to fall for him.
Wanting revenge was one thing, but messing up her life at work—the one place where she was truly at home and happy—didn’t seem smart. If she was going to fool around with Jack and walk away, she had to be careful how she timed it and that she never let it interfere with work.
“Golly gee, Willow, don’t sound so excited about it,” he said.
She nodded over at him. “I’m sorry. I’d be happy to go on dates with you when the time allows.”
“That’s all I ask,” he said, tracing a random pattern on her palm before closing his fingers over it.
She knew he wanted something more from her and only if she kept her wits about her would she be able to protect herself from being hurt once again by Jack Crown.
Jack felt like he was playing a part for Willow. If he had a hope in hell of making this real, he had to stop. The problem was he no longer knew who he was. It had been his problem for a while now and while it was easy to admit to himself that he was coasting through life, it was hard to figure out how to change.
Willow was the key, he thought. Watching her on the set of Sexy & Single had been the catalyst. He did want something more from her. He wanted to feel like he was alive again. He was tired from working all the time and taking silly risks on Extreme Careers to make himself remember he was alive.
They had finished dinner and he’d cleared the table with Willow’s help. He liked having her in the kitchen because it strongly reminded him of happy days from his youth. Not one of the women he’d dated in the past year had come into his kitchen when he’d had them over for dinner.
Another thing that had set Willow apart was that she hadn’t pulled out her smartphone one time during their meal. Despite her initial reluctance to join him for dinner, she hadn’t been distracted by the outside world once she did.
He put the last of the dishes on the counter and turned, leaning back against it to watch her. She glanced over at him and he could see he’d startled her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
He felt like he had to constantly be on his guard around her. She didn’t just relax and let herself enjoy the night. She was waiting for something to happen. Something he was supposed to do, he suspected, but he had no idea what it was.
“I’m trying to figure out why you were so jumpy when I hugged you,” he said.
She shrugged. “I … I just was. No need to dig deeper.”
It was almost too easy to find out what made her tick. She gave away things he knew she didn’t mean to with her defensive attitude. She was cool and casual when he was talking about things like work but anything the slightest bit personal and she got her back up.
“There is always a reason to dig deeper with you. You are hiding so much of the real Willow beneath a facade of calmness. You never show more than a hint of what’s going on below the surface.”
“That’s because in our business only divas can get away with throwing a temper tantrum,” she said, then arched her eyebrow at him. “Isn’t that right?”
“Are you trying to say I’m a diva?”
“Not trying—I did. I wasn’t the only one who heard the dressing-down you gave Kat last week when you didn’t have an exotic fruit basket in your dressing room.”
He almost flushed at the way she said it. “I was jet-lagged and I apologized later.”
“I know. Kat’s used to dealing with those types of situations so it didn’t even faze her.”
“Some days it’s harder than others,” he said. He wasn’t proud of the way he’d behaved. It was difficult sometimes—when everyone wanted a piece of you—to remember he wasn’t entitled to any of the fame he’d gotten. He tried to remind himself that his mom would have tanned his hide if she’d been alive to witness his ogreish behavior.
“What is? Being America’s
