“This is Penny Reid at her finest.” --
L.B. Dunbar, author
Beard With Me, an epic and
breathtaking story from New York Times and Wall Street Journal bestselling author Penny Reid, is available
now!
No
one is better at surviving than Scarlet St. Claire and making the best out of
circumstances beyond her control is Scarlet’s specialty. In an apocalyptic
situation, she’d be the last person on earth, hermitting like a pro, singing
along to her CD Walkman, and dancing like no one is watching.
Scarlet
is clever, Scarlet is careful, and Scarlet is smart . . . except when it comes
to Billy Winston.
No
one is better at fighting than Billy Winston and raging against his
circumstances—because nothing is beyond his control—is Billy’s specialty. In an
apocalyptic situation, he’d be the first person on earth to lead others to
safety, overcome catastrophe, or die trying.
Billy
is fearless, Billy is disciplined, and Billy is honorable . . . except when it
comes to Scarlet St. Claire.
‘Beard With Me’ is the origin story of Billy Winston and
Scarlet St. Claire (aka Claire McClure) and is just the beginning of their epic
love story.
.
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your copy today!
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Excerpt
*Scarlet*
“Do
you want me to leave?”
Yes.
That would be best, a wise voice said between my ears.
So
of course I inhaled deeply and said as calmly as I could manage, “I thought we
were going to go get firewood.”
“Okay.
Good.”
“But
then,” I blurted, flustered and irritated with myself for not speaking wisdom,
“You should go. You can’t tell me carting firewood back and forth between your
house and here is how you want to spend the last of your Thanksgiving weekend.”
“I
didn’t say it was.” He began making his way up the incline.
“But
you just said—”
“How
about we make a deal.” Billy dropped the kindling next to my little woodpile,
dusting his hands off on his pants. “I’ll cart the firewood, and you sing.”
“You
want me to serenade you while we carry firewood?”
He
smiled, slow and easy as he walked to me and reached out his hand. On
autopilot, I accepted it and allowed him to help me up.
As
soon as I was standing, his gaze moved from my hairline down to my nose, lips,
and then chin, saying quietly, “I’ll take a serenade from you anytime.”
Thunk
ka-thunk. That was my heart. It had been doing the thunk ka-thunk quite a lot
around him. I ignored it, because what else could I do?
“And
you’re not carrying the wood.” He tugged on my hand, pulling me out of my daze
and past my tent.
“I
will too carry wood.” Struggling to find my bearings, I stumbled after him. “I
can carry logs just fine.”
“You’ll
carry a log.” Billy fit his fingers between mine, pressing our palms together
and grinning at me like he was waiting for me to argue and he couldn’t wait.
Snapping
my mouth shut, I glared at him.
“Nothing
to say?”
Maintaining
my glare, I walked next to him. I wasn’t being led anywhere I didn’t wish to
go. Not anymore. He wasn’t talking me into anything else.
“That’s
an awfully mean look, Scarlet.” His grin grew, his brutally attractive eyes
glowing happily as he peered down at me.
“Well,
you deserve it. Always trying to tell me what I can and can’t do. I’m not
arguing with you about this. I’m carrying as much wood as I want and you can
take your stupid, chauvinistic opinions and shove them up your pretty-boy ass.”
Goodness.
Where had that come from?
Billy’s
steps faltered and his mouth fell open, his eyebrows rising high on his
forehead. He stared at me, looking shocked as hell. And then in the next
moment, he threw his head back and laughed. But he did not let go of me,
instead bringing my knuckles to his chest as his deep, rumbly laughter filled
the empty spaces between the trees, surrounding us.
Crushing
me.
Yes.
I was well and truly crushed as I could only watch Billy Winston laugh,
desperately basking in the image of him so delighted and relaxed. I had the odd
sense that his laughter also filled the empty spaces inside of me, the
neglected, vacant rooms, and even a few places that felt brand-new, like he’d
created them.
All
that noble honesty he carried around like a boulder abruptly lifted, revealing
him. Just him. Carefree and young and happy. Someone he might’ve been if his
burdens hadn’t been so heavy, his responsibilities so broad.
It
lasted only a minute, maybe two, maybe less, but I had the sense of being
caught afterward. Billy’s laughter had receded, but he’d spun a web while I’d
been staring at him, holding his hand.
His
grin became smaller and he bit his bottom lip, his gaze dropped to my mouth.
“You think I’m pretty?”
“You
know you’re pretty,” I said, bizarrely out of breath, rattled, needing to
anchor my focus to a tree beyond him and waging war against the heat climbing
up my neck to my cheeks. Oddly, my eyes stung. I blinked.
His
attention was still on me. I felt it, but I didn’t dare look at him. I couldn’t
handle one of Billy Winston’s intense stares right now. He’d probably use my
scattered wits to his advantage, talk me into something I shouldn’t want to do,
and then I’d be kicking myself later.
“What’s
wrong?” he asked, his voice deep with concern, all trace of his earlier humor
gone.
I
huffed, trying half-heartedly to steal my hand back from him. He didn’t let it
go, instead taking my tugging as a signal to step closer, filling my vision.
“Scarlet—”
“Are
you ever going to teach me how to play the guitar?” I closed my eyes.
He
didn’t answer right away, and I felt him hesitate, his mind work before he
muttered, “It’s only been a week.”
A
quality to his voice made me think he wasn’t answering the question I’d asked,
but rather he was reminding himself that it had only been a week since we’d
struck the deal.
Was
that only last week? Why does it feel like so much has changed?
Then
he said, “Don’t be angry.”
“I’m
not angry.” I was muddled, my head and heart hurt, I was incredibly confused,
but I wasn’t angry.
The
air shifted and I felt him move closer. A second later, the fingers of his free
hand were at my ear, tucking my hair behind it, his fingertips lingering at my
neck, sending wave after wave of goose bumps every which way. I couldn’t
breathe. I couldn’t swallow. I couldn’t think. Every nerve in my body strained
toward him and I didn’t understand it. What is happening?
“Have
you ever been kissed, Scarlet?”
Meet Penny Reid:
Penny Reid is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal and USA
Today Best Selling Author of the Winston Brothers, Knitting in the City,
Rugby, and Hypothesis series. She used to spend her days writing federal grant
proposals as a biomedical researcher, but now she just writes books. She’s also
a full time mom to three diminutive adults, wife, daughter, knitter, crocheter,
sewer, general crafter, and thought ninja.
Connect
with Penny:
Twitter: @ReidRomance
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