The Layover by Cassie Cross
Series: Love Is... #5
Publication date: August 13th, 2020
Synopsis:
Macy Monroe has spent two years living and working in Rome, dreaming about moving back home to Port City. That dream finally comes true when her assignment ends and she finds a new job and new apartment back in the States. As a last hurrah in Europe, she books a layover in Paris for a long weekend full of sightseeing and all the baguettes and cheese she can eat. But her plan hits a snag when a hotel snafu leaves her stranded by the Seine with nowhere to stay.
Fate steps in when she runs into Beckett McLane, her ex-boyfriend from college. He's in town working on his next novel and offers her a place to stay. Beckett's the kind of handsome that you never really forget, and Macy's heart is still a little broken from the breakup. Without any other options, she reluctantly takes him up on the offer.
Macy encourages work-obsessed Beckett to take a much-needed break from his laptop, and as he shows her around town, they get caught up in the romantic City of Light. When they're together, it's easy to forget that Macy's only on a layover and their time together is running out...
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Excerpt
As I stare at Beckett like a deer in the headlights, I vaguely make out Lindsay calling my name.
"I think someone wants you," he says, passing the phone over to me.
I blink a couple of times because the world is still a little shaky, then take it from him and press it against my ear.
"Are you okay? Who's that? Should I dial whatever international nine-one-one is?"
"It's Beckett," I say.
She's quiet for a couple of seconds. "Oh. Are you okay?"
I know she's not just asking about my physical well-being. Lindsay is well versed in the terms of our breakup. Am I okay? My heart's still cracked from the last time I saw him and if the pain in my head is any indication, now my skull is too. He tentatively reaches out and presses his hand against mine where it rests near my hairline in an attempt to soothe the ache.
"I'm fine," I tell her, too distracted by the heat of his skin to be able to elaborate. "Can I call you back?"
She hesitates, but agrees. "Yeah, sure. Should I keep looking for a place?"
"Sure. Thanks."
"Do I need to run a background check on him or anything, see what he's been up to over the years?"
I laugh. "No, I don't think he's resorted to a life of crime."
Beckett looks at me like he thinks I might need medical attention.
I'm fine, I mouth to him before gently ducking out from under his touch so I can think straight.
"Okay. Call me if you need anything. If I don't hear from you by morning, I'll fly over there myself."
"Deal."
We say our goodbyes and I tuck my phone back into my pocket.
"Do we need to go to the hospital?" he asks, half teasing. He's much taller than I remember. The lines of his face have sharpened, and there's a peppering of stubble along his jaw that wasn't there back when we dated and really works for him. His brown hair flops across his forehead, messy from him running his fingers through it. I'm reminded of all the times I'd tease him about needing a cut, how his eyes would flutter closed and he'd hum happily when I'd run my fingers through it.
He's always been handsome, but he's gorgeous now. Fit to be memorialized in marble at the Louvre.
"I think someone wants you," he says, passing the phone over to me.
I blink a couple of times because the world is still a little shaky, then take it from him and press it against my ear.
"Are you okay? Who's that? Should I dial whatever international nine-one-one is?"
"It's Beckett," I say.
She's quiet for a couple of seconds. "Oh. Are you okay?"
I know she's not just asking about my physical well-being. Lindsay is well versed in the terms of our breakup. Am I okay? My heart's still cracked from the last time I saw him and if the pain in my head is any indication, now my skull is too. He tentatively reaches out and presses his hand against mine where it rests near my hairline in an attempt to soothe the ache.
"I'm fine," I tell her, too distracted by the heat of his skin to be able to elaborate. "Can I call you back?"
She hesitates, but agrees. "Yeah, sure. Should I keep looking for a place?"
"Sure. Thanks."
"Do I need to run a background check on him or anything, see what he's been up to over the years?"
I laugh. "No, I don't think he's resorted to a life of crime."
Beckett looks at me like he thinks I might need medical attention.
I'm fine, I mouth to him before gently ducking out from under his touch so I can think straight.
"Okay. Call me if you need anything. If I don't hear from you by morning, I'll fly over there myself."
"Deal."
We say our goodbyes and I tuck my phone back into my pocket.
"Do we need to go to the hospital?" he asks, half teasing. He's much taller than I remember. The lines of his face have sharpened, and there's a peppering of stubble along his jaw that wasn't there back when we dated and really works for him. His brown hair flops across his forehead, messy from him running his fingers through it. I'm reminded of all the times I'd tease him about needing a cut, how his eyes would flutter closed and he'd hum happily when I'd run my fingers through it.
He's always been handsome, but he's gorgeous now. Fit to be memorialized in marble at the Louvre.
About the Author:
Cassie Cross is a Maryland native and a romantic at heart, who lives outside of Baltimore with her two dogs and a closet full of shoes. Cassie's fondness for swoon-worthy men and strong women are the inspiration for most of her stories, and when she's not busy writing a book, you'll probably find her eating takeout and indulging in her love of 80's sitcoms.
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