Instead, sitting beside Casper in the firelight with the vast Nebraska sky stretched above them, she felt safer and more at ease than she had in weeks.
“I’d like to ask why you moved out here, Willow?”
His words broke the comfortable silence. She knew he’d researched her before coming, but she’d never given any interviews about her decision. And the reason was only known to a few. She thought about lying. Throwing her arms outward and declaring, “Who wouldn’t want to move here?” but that would only be a small part of the decision. And there was no reason to lie to him. It didn’t matter if his opinion of her changed because after a week, she would never see him again.
She took another sip, then said, “I needed to get away from LA. I needed to get away from the constant paparazzi looking for the photo opportunity to get a snapshot of someone… well, me, at my worst. I hated feeling that I needed to constantly be on guard. I…” She cleared her throat and took another sip. “I had battled an eating disorder years ago, but found that even though I had won, as I got older, some of the same inner whisperings continued to plague me.” Shrugging, she sighed. “I don’t need to live there. I don’t need that kind of scrutiny. I can write anywhere and decided that I had lived in LA and in New York. So… why not try the middle of the country?”
He was quiet, and she could hear her heart pounding at the silence. Just when she thought he wasn’t going to respond to her rambling explanation, he surprised her.
“Took a lot of guts.”
She had to choke back a snort at his abridged comment. Concise, yet true.
“Thank you for your honesty,” he added.
The moment could have felt awkward, but once again, with this stranger, she felt rewarded. “No problem. It was all the truth… just not something I tend to talk about.”
By now their mugs were finally empty, and the fire had burned down to glowing embers. Gathering their things, they headed back inside. The warmth of the house enveloped them, a sharp contrast to the crisp night air that had left their cheeks flushed and their breath visible in small puffs.
Casper immediately began his evening security routine, moving through the house with methodical precision, checking window locks and ensuring every possible entry point was properly secured. She watched him work, impressed by his thoroughness and attention to detail.
"Everything looks good," he reported when he'd completed his circuit. "Once we get your new system installed, you'll have comprehensive coverage."
She led him down the hallway, stopping at the guest room door, across from her bedroom. She'd prepared it as soon as she realized she would have someone staying with her, adding fresh linens and ensuring he had everything he might need.
"There are clean towels in the bathroom," she said, opening the linen closet to show him where everything was stored. "And please don't feel like you have to tiptoe around the house or avoid the common areas. This is your space too while you're here." She paused at the doorway, suddenly feeling oddly uncertain despite the fact that he was clearly capable of taking care of himself. "If you get hungry during the night or early in the morning, anything in the kitchen is fair game. I'm usually up early, but don't let that stop you from making coffee or grabbing breakfast whenever you want it."
"I appreciate that," he said, his voice carrying genuine warmth. "Thank you for making me feel welcome here."
"Thank you for being here," she replied softly. "I didn't realize how much easier I’d breathe not being alone."
They said their good nights, and she retreated to her own room, going through the familiar ritual of preparing for bed while her mind continued to process the day's unexpected developments. She'd awakened that morning feeling isolated and increasingly paranoid about the strange incidents plaguing her peaceful existence. Now, as she settled between her sheets with the knowledge that Casper slept just across the hallway, she felt a sense of security she hadn't experienced in weeks.
But it wasn't just the professional protection he provided that had her feeling unsettled in an entirely different way. Lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling in the dark, she replayed moments from their day together, remembering the way his voice hadgentled when he'd reassured her about taking screenshots of his credentials, the transformation of his face when he'd laughed during dinner, and the solid strength of his back when she'd held on to him during their ATV ride.
She wondered if she'd completely lost her mind to be so infatuated with a man she'd just met, a man who was here strictly in a professional capacity, a man whose life was probably as far removed from her quiet Nebraska existence as it was possible to get. But as she drifted toward sleep, she couldn't deny the truth that had been growing all evening.
For the first time in years, she was genuinely attracted to someone. He was not the idealized fantasy of a romance-novel hero, but a real man with calloused hands and careful eyes and a way of making her feel both protected and seen.
The realization should have worried her more than it did.
11
After Willow had disappeared across the hallway to her own room, Casper settled into the comfortable guest bedroom and pulled out his tablet. The professional in him knew he should review his security assessment notes and finalize his equipment requests, but curiosity had gnawed at him all evening. He pulled up streaming episodes ofRiverside High, the show that had made Willow Thorton a household name over sixteen years ago.
The opening credits rolled across his screen, accompanied by an upbeat pop song that immediately transported him back to a time when this kind of teenage drama had dominated television. He'd never watched the show during its original run. At seventeen, he'd been far too busy working after-school jobs to help his mother and sister make ends meet to care about the fictional problems of privileged high school students.
While a show about teenagers navigating the social complexities of an affluent suburban high school didn't particularly appeal to him as an adult, and certainly bore no resemblance to what his own adolescence had been like, he was drawn in despite his skepticism. His teenage years had been defined by survival. School was simply something he needed toendure to get his diploma, while his real life revolved around the part-time work to help stretch his family's meager resources.
But as he watched a few episodes unfold, he began to understand why the show had captured such a devoted following. Willow's character, Rose, was the heart of the series. She was pretty without being intimidating, sweet without being naive, the quintessential girl next door who somehow managed to be both approachable and aspirational. She was the one the boys secretly harbored crushes on, the friend who could keep the mean girls in line with nothing more than a disappointed look, and the voice of reason who somehow made doing the right thing seem effortless.
He knew it was scripted television and that Willow had been acting a carefully crafted role, but as he watched her navigate the fictional hallways of Riverside High, he could easily imagine that Rose wasn't far from who Willow actually was in real life. The warmth in her smile seemed genuine even through the screen, and the way she delivered her lines with natural grace suggested that the kindness wasn't entirely manufactured for the cameras.
It was easy to see why she'd developed such a devoted fan base during the show's original run, and why streaming services had introduced her to an entirely new generation of viewers. In the preserved television reruns, she would remain forever frozen in that idealized version of adolescence—beautiful, kind, eternally sixteen, representing everything hopeful and optimistic about youth.
But the woman he'd spent the day with was so much more complex and interesting than the character she'd played. The real Willow carried depths that no teenage drama could capture, wisdom earned through experiences both challenging and transformative, and strength that came from surviving challenges that would have broken someone weaker.
As he closed the tablet and settled back against the pillows, Casper reflected on how completely she'd defied his expectations. When Logan had assigned him to protect her, he'd braced himself for someone demanding, high-maintenance, and perhaps bitter about no longer being in the forefront of Hollywood’s grace. Instead, he'd discovered a woman who was genuinely down-to-earth, thoughtful, and refreshingly unpretentious.
