“Casey told him as they slipped into bed one night about two weeks after Boggs’s visit, and R.J. knew by the casual, lighthearted, why-should-you-care way she said it, he wasn’t going to like this much. “What kind of a job?” he asked her, shifting his weight up onto one elbow and pulling the covers around him a little tighter. “Associate producer,” she said. She slid one hand along his chest in an absentminded way that made his heart pound. “But you’re already a full producer,” R.J. said. “Why w...ould you take a step down?” Her hand slid lower. “It’s not a step down. It’s not TV.” “Oh,” he said, already pretty distracted. “It’s not TV.” “No.” “I thought you did TV.” She brushed her fingertips lightly down his stomach. “I did. But this is too good to let it go.” R.J.’s mouth was dry. “So what is it?” “A movie.” Her hand circled his hips, around back, and then softly coasted to the front again. “In Los Angeles,” she said. R.J.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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