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“Exactly. Now, where’s that email that Dylan sent me,” I whispered to myself as I searched my inbox. Once I found it, I forwarded it to Reed’s email. “Done. Do you have your tablet to read on?”
Reed held up his tablet in his other hand.
“How come Dylan sent this to you now?” Reed asked. “Normally, a producer buys the script first and then goes looking for actors.”
“He and Max already had us in mind for the major roles. Dylan’s searching for a producing partner. Which is why he also sent it to Jared, who’s one of the interested buyers.”
Reed placed Grant on the cushion next to him and swiped his tablet. “I think it’s cool that Jared’s making independent films now. No more out of touch studio bosses crawling up his ass.”
“Yeah. But only a project or a two a year going forward. He’s cutting back.”
Reed glanced at me. “Quality over quantity. He might be on to something.”
I didn’t know if it was everything I’d witnessed Reed going through over the past three months or just the nature of entering my thirties, but the idea of taking time to breathe in between movies was beginning to appeal to me.
There was more to life and surprisingly, more to me, than acting. Exactly what that was, I’d yet to figure out.
“I love that he gives his actors leeway when it comes to working a scene. I guess that’s why I kept going back for more of his films,” I admitted.
“Even if it meant working with me?” Reed commented.
I glanced at him. I was so relieved to see his eyes clear and calm. There was still a sadness that lingered, but it wasn’t sharp like before.
I smiled at him. “We had our squabbles, but you can’t argue with on-screen chemistry. Can you?”
Not just on-screen, but twenty-four seven.
Reed licked his lips and nodded, then looked back at his tablet. His face was flushed, and it looked gorgeous on him, highlighting those sharp cheekbones and the pale dust of freckles. I could stare at his face day and night and never lose interest in studying him. Even after ten years, every time I glanced at him felt like the first.
“Do I have cat boogers on my face?” he asked as he continued to stare at his screen.
“What?” I laughed out loud. “No.”
“Oh. Cause you were staring, and I thought maybe, you know, I had something on my face.”
I felt my own heat in response.
“Just looking at that thing you call a beard.”
“Hey.” He turned back to me and stuck out his tongue. “Not all of us can grow a full mountain man beard in two hours. And I’ve been told that my scruff is very sexy.”
I reached out and cupped his chin, rubbing the soft blond hair against my thumb. “I wouldn’t call it scruff either. More like peach fuzz. And you couldn’t grow this out in two weeks, never mind two hours.”
No way in hell was I going to admit that Reed was right. It was sexy as hell.
He was sexy as hell.
I prepared for him to push me away, but Cary beat him to it, his paw batting my hand.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” I glared at my ill-mannered cat.
“He’s coming to my defense.”
Cary jumped over Reed and curled up on his other side, next to Grant. “See?”
“Traitor,” I muttered.
“Quiet,” Reed hushed me. “I’m trying to read.”
