Pillowtalk is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A Loveswept Ebook Original
Copyright © 2017 by Cassie Mae
Excerpt from Walk of Shame by Lauren Layne copyright © 2017 by Violet Duke
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Loveswept, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
LOVESWEPT is a registered trademark and the LOVESWEPT colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.
This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book Walk of Shame by Lauren Layne. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition.
Ebook ISBN 9781101968314
Cover design: Makeready Designs
Cover photographs: nd3000/iStock (couple), PicsFive/Depositphotos (pillows)
randomhousebooks.com
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Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Dedication
Acknowledgments
By Cassie Mae
About the Author
Excerpt from Walk of Shame
Chapter 1
Kennedy
The silver urn gleamed as the sun streamed through the high-speed locomotive’s window, the bright glare casting over Kennedy’s closed eyes. Her half-asleep, tingling arm rose to shield her from the unpleasant alarm clock. If she’d been thinking when she boarded, she’d have chosen a west-side seat, as all the passengers over there were still sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware of the start of a new day.
Covering a wide yawn, Kennedy stretched her back, adjusting in the worn seat until the glare was no longer obstructing her vision. Three days of traveling had left her bottom sore to the point that one tiny shift in the seat sent an uncomfortable pang from tailbone to collarbone. She set her hands on her shoulders and attempted to rub her aching limbs. Maybe in the small town she was headed toward there would be a resident with magic fingers. She’d give them all of the money from her last editing job for just ten minutes of massage.
She swiped at the corners of her eyes, removing the last of her three-day-old makeup. Not too much longer, she mused, and then felt the subsequent dip in her stomach that came whenever she thought of setting foot on the land Jared grew up on. He was always telling her stories of “Old Man Louis” or “Riverside Pete,” people she’d often pictured as toothless hicks. She’d figured Jared and his family were the Hollywood gems of the small town of Lyra Valley, having met his sister Chelsea a year ago and thinking that, next to Jared, she was probably the most beautiful person she’d ever met, even with a freshly shaven head. Her eyes were wide-set and stunningly green, framed by long, full lashes. She was a full-figured woman, measuring at size sixteen, which she boldly announced mere minutes after Jared introduced her.
“It was the last one in sixteen,” she’d said when Kennedy had complimented her orange sherbet summer dress. “I was ready to grab three or four sets of Spanx to squeeze into the next size down, and then I spotted it!”
Kennedy let out a sleepy giggle at the memory, the dip in her gut alleviated for a moment. Perhaps Chelsea would point out the best shopping spots during her visit; summer was setting in, and Kennedy wasn’t sure exactly what weather to pack for, so she kept it to jeans and T-shirts. A dress might be in order at some point, depending on how long it took her to complete the task she was there to do. When Jared requested it, she thought it would be a daylong trip, but the more time she’d been given to contemplate it, the more she thought it could very well take her years.
Her eyes drifted over to the urn, the small moment of happiness bogged down by the circumstances that brought her to Lyra Valley. She’d hoped that if she ever set foot on the soil, it would be because Jared had slipped a ring on her finger. As committed as he was to her, he was fully against the idea of marriage. Kennedy knew that going in, and foolishly thought she’d be the one to “change his mind.” Even nearing the end, Jared held firm to his stance on the subject, but for her sake, not his. He was absolute in making sure she moved on after his inevitable passing, and tying the knot with—as he put it—“someone who would sooner need a hearse than a limo” was simply not fair to her. For the sake of not arguing in the last memories she’d have with him, Kennedy had chosen to keep quiet on the subject.
Near the end, though, he made it clear that while moving on was what he thought was best, it wasn’t what he wanted.
Shaking off her thoughts before they cascaded into the familiar pit of seemingly endless sorrow, Kennedy reached up and fixed her short brown hair, which had gone from cute and curly to ratty and messy. The clip she’d snapped in to keep strands from tickling her nose while she slept had tangled into an unsolvable knot.
The sharp pinch on her head made her gasp, and her grip slipped from her hair, sending an elbow into the innocent man passing by her seat.
“Oh!” A rush of warmth ran through her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”
The man smiled through the wince of pain, rubbing his side with a callused and tanned hand. An unexpected flutter ran under Kennedy’s skin. She’d been on this train for nearly ten hours, yet she hadn’t noticed this attractive specimen until she’d literally bumped into him.
A wave of guilt quickly followed, and she tried to quiet her thoughts by letting out another red-faced apology. “I was just…I lost my grip, and you were…right there.”
He dropped his hand from his side, shaking his head with that friendly smile. “Don’t worry about it.”
Kennedy’s skin flushed again, and she scolded the response, side-glancing to the urn. It’s too soon, she reminded herself, though many of her friends would beg to differ. She’d held on to Jared’s ashes for more than a year now, never finding the courage until very recently to fulfill his request.
She heard the man shift, his jeans making a rough swish as he continued to his seat. Her eyebrows lifted as he settled a hand on her headrest and lowered into the spot right behind her. Had she really been so tired that she didn’t notice that musky, country-grown scent the entire trip?
After sucking in a long breath, she held it and resumed her battle with the hairpin. She couldn’t arrive in Lyra Valley looking like she’d rolled into a wad of gum; Chelsea was probably still just as gorgeous as she was last year, and though it was juvenile and vain, Kennedy wanted to hold her own standing next to her.
“Come on,” she hissed through her teeth as a few more strands plucked free from her head. She spent a good thirty seconds struggling until a low voice appeared at the small space between her and the seat next to her.
“Do you mind?” the man with the friendly smile asked, gesturing to the pin.
With wide eyes and a traitorous, skipping heart, Kennedy lifted a shoulder and let her arms fall to her lap. A little help from a stranger—even one this gorgeous—was perfectly innocent. Yet when she felt his fingers in her hair, she ripped her eyes from the urn and focused on the train?
??s ceiling. There was a rush of warmth that ran through her abdomen that she hadn’t felt in a long while, and it took everything in her to ignore the sensation.
“There you are,” the man said not five seconds later, holding the barrette between rough fingers. Kennedy’s breath caught in the back of her throat as she plucked it from him, an embarrassed smile crawling onto her lips.
“How in the world…?” she asked, flicking her eyes to meet his through the small crack between the seats.
He let out a low, gravelly laugh, one that she’d pictured coming from a man who spent a lot of time in the woods. It was so similar to Jared’s that her smile faltered.
“I had a better view of it,” he answered. “Hard to untangle a knot that you can’t see.”
Kennedy chuckled. “Well, thank you.”
“Not a problem.” He stuck his hand between the seats. “Austin.”
“Kennedy.” She ignored the manly coarseness of his skin and the goosebumps that ran up her arm. They didn’t hold each other for long, but he didn’t lean back in his seat as they let go.
“Where you headed?”
“Lyra Valley. You?”
His eyebrows rose and he tilted his head. “Same. But I’m heading home, and while you look familiar, I don’t think I’ve met you before.” His grin widened, and Kennedy felt her smile twitching upward in excitement, followed by that ever-returning guilt. Jared had told her that if she ever felt anything toward anyone, no matter how soon after, it wasn’t wrong. When the words had left his mouth, she’d quickly snuffed them out with kisses. She couldn’t imagine feeling for someone the way she felt for Jared.
While that part of her was still safe, and always would be reserved for the one love she’d been blessed to have, the attraction she was experiencing toward Austin was unexpected, and her mind wasn’t sure how to handle her body’s responses.
“So what brings you to our small town?” Austin asked, unaware of Kennedy’s internal battle over a simple, friendly conversation.
Her eyes drifted to the urn before returning to the smile lines around Austin’s mouth. “Visiting a friend,” she answered. While it wasn’t a lie, it wasn’t the truth, either.
Austin shifted in his seat, inching his way closer. Whether that was to hear her better or for another reason entirely, Kennedy wasn’t sure, but she was acutely aware of the thick scruff along his cut jaw and the way it made her instantly feel the need to reach out and run her fingers over it.
“Do you mind if I ask which one?” he asked with the air of a complete gentleman. “I’m trying to place your very adorable face, and I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
Kennedy’s mind raced through all the different meanings of the word adorable, and whether or not she should take it as a friendly compliment or an invitation to flirt. She studied him, eyes lingering over the muscles in his arms. If they had met before, it must have been while she was with Jared. Surely she’d have noticed a man like Austin if she’d been available.
“Chelsea Tea,” she answered. “Do you know her?”
He grinned. “I know everyone in Lyra Valley. But Chelsea? I think I know more of her than I’d like.”
They laughed together, Kennedy enjoying the sound after a year of sorrow. Austin shifted in his seat once again, resting a strong arm up on the headrests. The elderly man next to him scooted toward the window, huffing out an irritated sigh at Austin’s attempts to converse with someone sitting directly in front of him.
“Do you want to join me?” Kennedy offered before she could talk herself out of it. “I know we don’t have long to go, but—”
“Yes,” Austin replied, a noticeable air of relief waving over his expression. “Thank you.”
He pushed out of his seat, and Kennedy quickly reached for the urn. The smooth surface slipped a bit between her suddenly sweaty palms, but she got a good hold before there became a very messy problem. Austin straightened his simple black T-shirt, his grin crooked and beautiful as Kennedy slid over to the window seat, propping the urn on her lap.
His eyes fell to the silver lid, and Kennedy watched as his smile went from sweet, to surprise, and then, finally, to sympathy.
“It’s okay,” she said, trying to cover up the awkwardness of traveling with ashes. “I’m just…doing someone a favor.” It was, again, a half-truth.
Austin stood in the aisle, eyes never leaving the urn. “Jared.”
Her heart flipped up to her throat. “Excuse me?”
Austin slowly lowered into the spot next to her, his gaze finally moving back to hers. “That’s how I know you. Jared’s funeral.”
Her grip tightened on the urn, her brow furrowing as she tried to place him in the very crowded wake that seemed like it was just yesterday. Honestly, she’d been in a complete blur the entire day, running through the motions, giving her eulogy, and then accepting condolences. It was the longest day of her life, and she couldn’t remember a single face—only the one that wasn’t there.
“You wouldn’t remember me,” Austin said, freeing her from reliving it all. “I ducked out pretty soon after and commemorated him in the way he’d told me to.”
A small smile teased the corners of her lips. “He gave you instructions, too?”
“Oh yeah. Very specific and lengthy ones.”
Warmth spread through her as her mouth split into a wide, real grin. Maybe Lyra Valley won’t feel so sad, she thought. Remembering Jared and all his quirks through people who grew up with him might give her the closure she longed for.
“How long did you know him?” she asked, crossing her legs toward Austin.
“Junior high.” Austin angled himself toward her. Her nerves calmed slightly as their conversation grew more natural. Kennedy liked to think that Jared had something to do with it, somehow, somewhere.
She stuck out a finger, realization hitting deep in her memory. “Oh! I think I remember Jared talking about an Austin.” She tilted a scolding eyebrow. “You were responsible for the backward elbow bend.”
Austin let out another gravelly and joyful laugh. “Hey, it was his idea to jump off the rocks. I just gave him a little push.”
“Right into a tree,” she pointed out with a smile. When she’d discovered Jared’s ability to bend his elbow in the opposite direction, he’d told her it was because one of his buddies gave him a nudge while he was holding a rope swing and instead of hitting the water, his arm cracked against a tree. He had crumpled just shy of the lake he’d been aiming for. Luckily, the arm was the only casualty.
“He liked showing that off,” Austin mused. “Always putting a positive spin on things.”
Kennedy nodded, silently agreeing tenfold with that statement. When Jared had learned of the eight-month prognosis, he told the doctor—with a smile—“Phew! I’ll get to see one last Super Bowl.” Unfortunately he didn’t make it that long.
Kennedy felt the train slow underneath her, and the intercom system came on telling them that they’d arrived in Virginia. Austin’s mouth tilted in a grin, and he reached up for the overhead bar and pulled himself to his feet.
“Chelsea meeting you here?” he asked, extending his free hand to help her up.
“Daniel.” She placed her hand in his, shifting Jared’s ashes under her arm. Though the urn was light, she felt the weight of what she’d come here to do suddenly crash down inside, and she almost lost her grip on it again.
“Probably a good idea,” Austin said, eyes flicking over the urn and back to hers. “Dan is much smoother behind the wheel than Chelsea. Don’t tell her I said that, though.”
Kennedy chuckled. “I don’t make a habit of poking bears.”
The train came to a stop, and the jolt sent her into the hard plate of Austin’s chest. He steadied her with a smile, and Kennedy’s face flushed once more—from her lack of coordination. Not at all because Austin was warm and tall, country grown and musky…Definitely not because of that.
Balancing back onto her ballerina flats, she let out a sligh
tly embarrassed chuckle and fell into step with him as they squished through the narrow train aisle and out onto the platform.
The awkward air that precedes an impending departure surrounded them, so much so that Kennedy could almost taste it on the tip of her tongue. Her stomach swirled, and she nearly clutched at it in an attempt to calm the storm brewing under her skin. She swallowed hard, nervously toying with the handle on her luggage. She wasn’t ready to date anyone seriously, by any means, but despite her tummy turmoil, she felt an almost reassuring nudge by some outside force not to let Austin leave without an indication that she might—at some point—be interested in getting to know him, at the very least.
Or it could very well be her rationalizing the confused parts of her mind.
“Well,” Austin said, breaking the silence, “it was good to chat with you. Maybe I’ll see you around town.”
Kennedy’s voice shrank back in timidity and she found herself capable only of nodding and smiling. Austin nodded back and then started toward a gravel parking lot. Sweat started to form along the inside of Kennedy’s palms, and her hand slipped on her luggage as she struggled to coax her voice out from hiding.
“I…I…um…maybe we could…”
Austin turned, eyeing her over his shoulder with a curious tilt of his brow.
“Sorry?” he asked.
She gulped, and then blew out a shaky breath. “I’m…Well, I’ll probably be in town for a little while. I was thinking…maybe you could show a newbie around? Or we could get a drink sometime? I could give you my number….”
She bit down on her lip, a burn rushing through her neck as she fumbled for her phone. It’d been so long since she’d played the dating game, and she was so out of touch. She could tell by the look on Austin’s face as he studied her awkward stance that the attraction wasn’t mutual; the invitation hung between them like an unwanted second helping of burnt casserole. Desperate for an escape, she pretended to be interested by the missed notifications on her cell.