Between the Sheets Read online

  Praise for Molly O’Keefe

  The Boys of Bishop Novels

  Wild Child

  “If there is one contemporary romance novel you must read in 2013, this is it … this book, this book … I could go on and on … but I will just end with this: not only was the plot beautiful but the writing was as well.”

  —Love’s a State of Mind

  “One of my favorite things about [O’Keefe’s] books is the way they refuse to shy away from messy, complicated characters and relationships. Wild Child is no different in that regard.… It is a testament to O’Keefe’s skill as a writer and a storyteller that she imbues Jackson and Monica’s stories (as a fledgling couple and as individuals) with a tremendous amount of emotional depth and sensitivity.… O’Keefe can bring characters … into vivid and compelling life as they stumble, sometimes joyously, often painfully, always passionately, toward love and mutual happiness.”

  —Dear Author

  “I fell in love with this book from the very beginning.… It has the right amount of romance.… And the sex scenes were hot, too.”

  —Night Owl Reviews, 4 stars

  “As I have come to expect from Molly O’Keefe, Wild Child is a deliciously steamy romance that has plenty of substance.… Another fabulous book by a very gifted author that I highly recommend to anyone who enjoys contemporary romances.”

  —Book Reviews and More by Kathy

  “Molly O’Keefe is one of my favorite writers. You can count on her to create characters that will test you and take your emotions for a spin, one moment loving them the next wanting to give them a good shake. Well, she didn’t let me down with this story!… The writing is spectacular and meaningful, the story has depth and the characters are extremely interesting and true to their designed nature. I make no bones about O’Keefe being one of my favorite writers and, even though I was prepared for a good book, I was blown away by this one.”

  —The Book Nympho

  “Super hot scenes, funny moments and some of the most romantic gestures I have ever read.… Happy reading!”

  —The Reading Café

  “It’s no secret that Molly O’Keefe’s novels are my favorites in the very crowded contemporary romance genre. Her books … are brilliantly subversive. All of the novels I’ve read by this author riff on romance archetypes and conventions in a deliciously satisfying manner.… When it comes down to it, if you’re looking for an authentically complex romance narrative … read Wild Child.”

  —Clear Eyes Full Shelves

  Crooked Creek Novels

  Crazy Thing Called Love

  “There is no stopping the roller coaster of emotion, sexual tension and belly laughs. O’Keefe excels in creating flawed characters who readers will root for on every page. Despite very serious subjects and tear-worthy emotion, the tone of the novel is a perfect balance of fun and heart.”

  —RT Book Reviews, 4½ stars

  “O’Keefe’s newest romance hits the high notes with a storyline that tugs on the heartstrings, maintains a sizzling degree of sexual tension, and plays on realistic, authentic conflicts that keep the audience emotionally invested from start to finish. Gripping storytelling and convincing character-building allow the story to unfold in the present and in the past, offering windows into the psyches of a damaged hero and his restyled first love. An intense, heartwarming winner.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “Crazy Thing Called Love has become my all-time favorite contemporary romance!… Don’t miss out on O’Keefe’s Crooked Creek series! These are the books you will still be talking about in twenty years!”

  —Joyfully Reviewed

  “There is nothing lacking in Molly O’Keefe’s Crazy Thing Called Love. I am glad to say that it has every possible thing a woman could want in a good romance story. The Crooked Creek series is something that you will definitely want to get your hands on.”

  —Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews

  “Wonderful story … unlike anything I have read before.… Highly addictive.”

  —Single Titles

  “This was an absolute joy to read.… Definitely a book worth picking up.”

  —Cocktails and Books

  “O’Keefe keeps the momentum of the present story going at a breathtaking pace with well placed visits back to the past, providing insight into these characters.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  Can’t Buy Me Love

  “Readers should clear their schedules before they pick up O’Keefe’s latest—a fast-paced, funny and touching book that is ‘unputdownable.’ Her story is a rollercoaster ride of tragedy and comedy that is matched in power by believable and sympathetic characters who leap off the pages. Best of all, this is just the beginning of a new series.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “From the beginning we see Tara’s stainless steel loyalty and her capacity for caring, as well as Luc’s overweening sense of responsibility and punishing self-discipline.… Watching them fall for each other is excruciatingly enjoyable.… Can’t Buy Me Love is the rare kind of book that both challenges the genre’s limits and reaffirms its most fundamental appeal.”

  —Dear Author

  “Can’t Buy Me Love is an unexpectedly rich family-centered love story, with mature and sexy characters and interweaving subplots that keep you turning the pages as fast as you can read. I really enjoyed it. It’s also got some of the most smooth and compelling sequel bait I’ve ever swallowed.”

  —Read React Review

  “If you love strong characters, bad guys trying to make good things go sour, and a steamy romance that keeps you guessing about just how two people are going to overcome their own angsts to come together where they belong, then I highly recommend Can’t Buy Me Love by Molly O’Keefe. You won’t be disappointed.”

  —Unwrapping Romance

  “A stunning contemporary romance … One of the most memorable books I’ve read in a long time.”

  —DEIRDRE MARTIN,

  New York Times bestselling author

  “Molly O’Keefe is a unique, not-to-be-missed voice in romantic fiction.… An automatic must-read!”

  —SUSAN ANDERSEN,

  New York Times bestselling author

  Can’t Hurry Love

  “Using humor and heartrending emotion, O’Keefe writes characters who leap off the page. Their flaws and foibles make for an emotional story filled with tension, redemption and laughter. While this novel is not a direct continuation of the first in the series, it makes the reading richer and more interesting to devour the books in order. Readers should keep their eyes peeled for the third book and make room on their keeper shelves for this sparkling fresh series.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Have you ever read a book that seeped into your soul while you read it, leaving you feeling both destroyed and elated when you finished? Can’t Hurry Love was that book for me.”

  —Reader, I Created Him

  “Can’t Hurry Love is special. It’s that book that ten years from now you will still be recommending to everyone because it is undeniably great!”

  —Joyfully Reviewed

  “An emotion-packed read, Can’t Hurry Love … is a witty, passionate contemporary romance that will capture your interest from the very beginning.”

  —Romance Junkies

  Between the Sheets is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the 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 Bantam Books eBook Edition

  Copyright © 2014 by Molly Fader

  Excerpt from Indecent Proposal by Molly O’Keefe copyright © 2014 by Molly Fader

  All r
ights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Bantam Books, an imprint of Random House, a division of Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House Company, New York.

  BANTAM BOOKS and the HOUSE colophon are registered trademarks of Random House LLC.

  This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book Indecent Proposal by Molly O’Keefe. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition.

  ISBN 978-0-345-54903-7

  eBook ISBN 978-0-345-54904-4

  www.bantamdell.com

  Cover design: Lynn Andreozzi

  Cover photograph: Claudio Marinesco

  v3.1

  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

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Dedication

  Other Books by This Author

  Excerpt from Indecent Proposal

  Chapter 1

  January 8

  Shelby Monroe was not having a very good morning.

  Last night, her new neighbor—a motorcycle enthusiast apparently with insomnia and a hearing problem—didn’t stop revving his engine until nearly dawn. Then Mom put the coffeepot on the stove thinking it was the kettle and it shattered when it got too hot.

  So here she was for her first day of classes after the Christmas break at Bishop Elementary, frazzled and without coffee.

  Which was no way to deal with Colleen.

  “Welcome back!” Colleen, the school secretary, stood up from behind her desk and for a moment seemed as if, in the three-week break, she’d forgotten that Shelby wasn’t a hugger.

  Thank God it came back to her at the last moment and instead of throwing her arms around Shelby like they were old friends, she turned to the bottom drawer of her filing cabinet and yanked it open. Shelby dropped her phone and purse in it. There was no office for the part-time staff, so she made do with Colleen’s bottom drawer. She shrugged out of her winter jacket and hung it on the coat hook with her scarf, then tucked her gloves in her coat sleeves.

  “How are you doing?” Colleen asked.

  “First day back. It’s always a good day.”

  “You must be the only teacher in the world who thinks that.”

  Shelby laughed. That was probably true. Her first days back in the school after winter break were her favorite of the whole year. All the hard work of getting to know the kids, understanding them, and getting their attention and respect was done. And now they were recharged. The next two months would undoubtedly be her most productive with the kids, before spring fever hit.

  She just needed to shake off this bad morning she’d had.

  “Coffee’s fresh.”

  “You’re a saint.” She grabbed a mug from the cupboard above the coffee area and waited for the machine to belch and steam before she poured herself a cup. Colleen went nuts if you robbed the pot, and no one wanted to get on Colleen’s bad side.

  In her years as a part-time employee for the school district, Shelby had come to know one thing for certain: principals did not run schools; the secretaries did. And Colleen’s desk was like the bridge of a giant spaceship. A phone system with a gazillion lights and buttons. Color-coded Post-its. The sign-in book, which she guarded like the Holy Grail. The first-aid kit, the small fridge with ice packs. Printer, computer, jars with pens. One drawer had hard candy, the other a box of Triscuits. There was a heat lamp at her feet. A fan at her back. Two different sweaters over her chair and a small hot plate for her coffee cup.

  Colleen could survive the zombie apocalypse at her desk.

  “How is your mom doing?” Colleen asked.

  “Fine,” Shelby said, because she had to say something and that was the sort of answer people expected. Colleen didn’t want to hear how her mom had spent the night pacing the hallway looking for her mother’s old cookbooks.

  “It’s nice to see her at church again.”

  Why was everyone so scared of silence? Shelby wondered, contemplating the drip of the coffee machine.

  Shelby loved silence. And everyone from the woman behind the cash register at the grocery store to Colleen wanted to force her into conversation because her silence made them uncomfortable.

  “Shelby?”

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?” She poured coffee into one of the spare mugs; this one had a sleeping cat on it. There were a thousand cat mugs on that shelf.

  “I said it’s real nice to see you both in church again. It’s been a long time.”

  “Well, it’s a comfort,” she lied, glancing at the big clock over the door. She had five minutes before the bell. “I’m starting in Mrs. Jordal’s class?”

  Colleen swiveled in her chair to face Shelby. “There’s a new student in there,” she said. “He’s a handful.”

  Shelby smiled. Perhaps she was in the minority, or maybe it was only because she was part-time and in the classes she taught out in the Art Barn in the summer and after school the kids wanted to be there, but she would take a kid who was a handful every day of the week.

  The quiet, studious boys and the girls who were so eager to please all too clearly reminded her of herself and she wanted to scream at them to get a backbone, to stand up for themselves. To take a lesson from the kids who caused problems, whom no one could overlook. Because waiting to be seen, to be noticed, only led to midlife crises and psychotic breaks that tore apart your world.

  At least that was her experience.

  But that was probably a little heavy for an elementary school art class.

  “We’ve been back for a week and he’s been in the office almost every day,” Colleen said, lifting her own mug—no cats to be seen—from the hot plate. “Fighting, mouthy, stealing from classmates.” She turned her giant chair back around to face the door and the computer, her kingdom. “And his father is a piece of work, clearly the apple doesn’t fall far from that particular tree. Mark my words: that boy is nothing but trouble.”

  Mrs. Jordal taught fifth grade and had for about a hundred years. There wasn’t a problem or a type of kid she hadn’t seen a dozen times before. And Shelby really liked the fact that her class, no matter how many handful kids she had, was always calm. The kids were respectful.

  It was tough at the beginning of every new year because something happened to kids between fourth and fifth grade. Some hormonal surge that made them all short-circuit. But by Thanksgiving, Mrs. Jordal had those kids in line.

  Christmas break, however, caused some regression.

  Shelby took a deep breath, girding her loins, before she walked in.

  “Hello, class,” she said as she entered the room. All the kids looked up from the free reading they’d been doing and some of them answered her. Some waved. Scott and John whispered behind their hands. One boy in the back with shaggy red hair blinked, owly and worried-seeming.

  Oh no, his expression said, before he schooled it into a predictable but ill-fitting sneer, not another new thing.

  His whole vibe screamed “new kid.”

  Mrs. Jordal stood from behind her desk and walked over, limped actually. She needed hip replacement surgery but was being stubborn about it. “Hello, Ms. Monroe,” she said. “Welcome back.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Jordal. Anything exciting in the fifth grade in the new year?”

  “We have a new student.”


  “That’s what I heard.”

  “Casey?”

  The redhead waved with one flip of his hand. Funny, that hormonal surge inspired all of the kids to walk that line between being respectful and being sent to the principal’s office to varying degrees. Even the good kids started fifth grade with a little attitude.

  This kid was really trying hard to seem like a badass.

  “Nice to meet you, Casey.” Shelby set down her coffee and bag beside Mrs. Jordal’s desk, in front of the Regions of America bulletin board. “I thought, in honor of our new student …” Every eye in the classroom went to Casey and he shrank down in his seat, glowering.

  “We’re going to start on a new project today and it’s going to last for the next three weeks. It’s called Things About Me.” From her bag she took the stapled packets of paper and began to hand them out. “You get three images, but no words, to convey what you know to be true about yourself.”

  “About anything?” Jessica Adams asked. She honestly looked terrified at the idea. Jessica was a girl who needed to be told what to draw. Most of the kids did, but that was the fun part of fifth grade—they were just beginning to realize they had ideas of their own. Largely inappropriate, but the ideas were tied more to identity than ever before.

  “Anything.”

  “Like I know this is lame?” Scott Maxwell said, and John James high-fived him.

  “If you think that’s true, sure.” She gave Scott the packet of papers and then stood next to him for a moment, her hand on his shoulder. Scott had been in her summer art camp for three years in a row and was doing an after-school class on Thursdays, working in clay. He was a good kid and she liked him as much as she imagined he liked her. The poor kid was just short-circuiting. “But you have to figure out how to draw it. How to convey it without using any words.”

  A couple of the kids started to groan, realizing how hard this was going to be.