Page 163 of The Homewreckers
Keep it casual, she told herself. “Want something to drink? A beer or a glass of wine?”
He tilted his head.
“I was hoping you’d say you missed me too.”
She got a bottle of wine from the fridge and poured two glasses, hoping her shaking hands wouldn’t give her away. She handed him a glass and tried to gather her resolve.
“I didn’t.”
He set his glass down on the counter and pulled her to him. He put his arms around her waist and kissed her.
“Liar,” he murmured. He cradled her face between his hands, then kissed her again, parting her lips with his tongue. His kisses were warm and sweet and she realized that trying to resist Mo Lopez was futile.
“Okay, maybe I missed you a little.” His hands roamed under her shirt, and she felt herself melting into him.
“I wanted to call you as soon as I got the news today, that the house was sold.”
“But you didn’t. Why not?”
“This will never work.…”
He stopped kissing her. “Could you just listen? First off, I’ve thought a lot about this ‘don’t get your honey where you get your money’ theory. And it’s bullshit. Lots of successful couples work together in this business. Hell, you’re already working for your father-in-law, and your best friend and her mom.”
“That’s different. They’re family.”
“Notthatdifferent. Besides, we’re good together, Hattie. Admit it. We piss each other off sometimes, yeah, but that’s what happens on any creative project.”
Mo pressed his lips to her ear. He kissed her earlobe, then moved slowly down her neck, lingering when his lips were on her collarbone. “You know what makes us so good together?” He’d managed to unsnap her bra and now his thumbs grazed her nipples.
“Sexual tension. You can’t deny it. It’s always in the air when we’re together. Like those damned no-see-ums.”
His fingers worked lazy circles around her nipples and then he was kissing her again.
She struggled to find a reason to pull away, when all she wanted was to get closer.
“Your news?” she managed.
She felt his lips widen into a smile. He pressed his forehead to hers.
“Remember that show I originally pitched you—right after we met at Tattnall Street?”
“Saving Savannah?”
“Yeah. HPTV didn’t want it, but I knew it was a great concept. The whole time we were working onHomewreckers,I kept tinkering with the proposal, and my agent and I pitched it to another network. I wanted to tell you about it after the wrap party, but you wouldn’t let me. You chased me away.”
“Yet here you are again.”
“Lucky for you, I’m a very persistent guy. Earlier this week, we met with the head of programming at Apple. Hattie, they want it!” He grasped her shoulders. “They want to buySaving Savannah.”
“So… you’d shoot another series here? In Savannah?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah. It won’t work if we shoot it in Omaha.”
“I didn’t know Apple did reality television,” Hattie said.
“They do now. And here’s the thing. It won’t be just a weekly streaming series. They’d want us to do a weekly podcast, and maybe some spin-off DIY videos as we progress. It’s called vertical integration. I’m gonna need a host, too, someone who lives and breathes historic preservation. And who really understands Savannah. Know anyone like that?”
“I do, but I doubt you could afford her.”
