Page 75 of Writing Mr. Wrong

“Goodbye, Alan. I’m going back to sleep now.”

“It’s eight a.m.” His gaze shot to the side, as if he could see beyond her screen, and his voice dropped. “Is he there?”

She paused before realizing he was asking whether Mason was in bed with her, and that’s why she was lingering past seven.

Oh, that was tempting. So damn tempting. Inch from the middle of the bed, angle the camera away, and say innocently,What? No, in a way that told him Mason absolutely was there.

“No, Alan, Mason had an away game last night, remember? I’m sure you saw it. Now—”

“I sawyouat the last home game. The camera zoomed in. You never wanted to watch hockey, and now, all of a sudden, there you are, in the VIP section. With Mace showing off right in front of you.”

“Goodbye, Alan.”

“Wait. I…” His blue eyes met hers. “I’m worried about you, Gem. I know the divorce was rough, and you’re probably lonely, but when it comes to women, they call him One-Swing Mace. He hits that once and moves on.”

She remembered the Camille incident. “I am aware.”

“I’m sure they all imagined themselves becoming Mrs. Moretti, but it’s not going to happen.”

“What? He isn’t going to marry me? But he promised!” She rolled her eyes. “If you really think I’m hanging out with Mason Moretti in hopes of snagging myself a hot hockey player husband, you really don’t know me at all.”

“Hot? He’s not even good-looking, Gemma.”

She bit her cheek at the earnest look on Alan’s face, as if his poor ex was in need of glasses. “Hot isn’t the same as good-looking, Alan, and trust me, Mason Moretti ishot. You can run a poll on that, and I have no doubt of the answer. He’s smoking.”

Alan’s face reddened, and his mouth worked before he settled for “I just don’t want you getting hurt, Gem. I don’t want you expecting more than he’s offering.”

“Do you know what Mason’s offering? Fun. And he delivers in spades.” Which was true, and if Alan took that in another way, so be it. “Now, I really—”

Her phone audibly buzzed. Seeing the caller name, she grinned before she could stop herself.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Alan said, his eyes narrowing.

“Gotta run. Bye.”

She flipped over to Mason before realizing it was still on video. “Hold on. I had another call. Let me shut the camera off.”

His video popped on before she could. His face filled her phone screen, complete with unruly hair, unshaven face, dancing brown eyes, and a grin that made her insides flip.

“Good morning,” he said. Then the smile faltered. “Shit, did I wake you up? No, wait. You were on a call. Someone else woke you up. Whew. I’m not the asshole.”

She smiled. “Yep, you’re not the asshole. Are you flying back today?”

“Iamback. Surprise!” That grin again, the one that was half-genuine, half-far-too-pleased with himself, and all charming. Also hot.Damn it! Stop that.

“Is it too early to ask you out for coffee?” he said. “We need to discuss trip stuff, but I wasn’t sure when you woke up.”

She yawned. “Usually before this, but I was up late writing. Coffee would be wonderful. You want to come by?”

“Can we meet near your place? I know a spot. Good breakfast and really quiet at this hour. Bring your laptop, and you can stick around and write after.”

She stifled another yawn. “I’ll probably write later.”

“Well, bring your laptop anyway. Just in case.”

She resisted the urge to say she could decide if and when she wrote, but she knew this wasn’t a control move. He was trying to be considerate, and sometimes he stumbled.

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll bring my laptop.”

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