“Not by me.”
“True.” Serena worried her bottom lip. “I shouldn’t have said that. You’ve been so kind to me, helping me in the kitchen and visiting the Christmas market even though you really didn’t feel up to it. Those are things other men in my life would never have done. I shouldn’t have made such a thoughtless remark.”
“It’s okay.” He once again settled next to her.
“Can I have a do-over?” When he nodded, she said, “I was thinking about my script.”
“You’re writing a television show?” He wanted to know more about her. Everything about her fascinated him. “Have you always been a writer?”
Serena didn’t say anything. He willed her to open up to him because she was like a mystery. The more he knew about her, the more he wanted to learn.
Her gaze met his. “I’ve always been a reader. When I was younger, I would write, but then my father found out and told me that I was wasting my time.”
“I’m sorry he smashed your dreams.”
She shrugged. “I shouldn’t have let him. But I was young and easily swayed.”
“I take it you’re not so easily swayed these days.”
“I’d like to think not. Time and experience have a way of changing a person.”
“And in your case, I think you’ve made the most of your experiences.”
She arched a brow at him. “You think you know me that well?”
A small smile teased his lips. “I think you are an amazing woman with a big heart. You love your puppy and you take in injured strangers.”
Color rushed to her face. He couldn’t believe someone as beautiful as her hadn’t been complimented on a regular basis. But he couldn’t deny that she was adorable with the rosy hue in her cheeks. Not that he was thinking of starting anything serious with her.
It was time he changed the subject before he said too much and made them both uncomfortable. “So what are you writing? A family saga? Or a paranormal series?”
“No...ah, actually, it’s a big-screen movie.” She paused as though expecting him to say something, but he quietly waited for her to finish. “A family saga with a central romance.”
“That’s great.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“No. I’m not. I read some every day. Mostly biographies but I also enjoy some suspense. I think anyone that writes has a precious gift.”
This time she shifted on the couch until she could look him in the eyes. “Do you mean that?”
“I do. I’d like to read it, if you’d let me.”
She shook her head and sat back on the couch. “You can’t. It’s not finished.”
“How about when it’s finished?”
“That’s the thing. I’m stuck. I’ve tried different endings but nothing I’ve tried seems to work.”
“Give it time. Don’t force yourself. If you relax, the answer will come to you.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“I do. It works for me. When I’m working on a segment. I like to do a lot of my own writing.”
“Thanks.” She turned her head and smiled at him. “I really appreciate your support.”
He lowered his voice. “Just know that you can always talk to me—about anything. I care about you.”