Grace's Fake Groom

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Grace's Fake Groom Page 5

by Francesca Lane


  “Something … something about this is not stacking up,” she’d continued.

  He pictured her, sculpted dark brows drawn together like knitting needles on a rush order, her red lips quirked upward at one corner, that low hum she made when she was thinking.

  It occurred to him that this wasn’t over in her mind. He would have to be cognizant of that.

  He pushed away thoughts of his ex and her vengeful ways and concentrated on the scenery through the windshield. Swaths of crimson and gold burned through the darkening sky. They were close to the coast now, all indications pointing to “a sailor’s delight” of a day tomorrow. At least he had that to look forward to.

  Grace’s sigh reached him over the music. He slid another glance at her, but she continued to stare at that spreadsheet, working her teeth over her bottom lip the entire time.

  Normally he would have appreciated the silence. Far different from the inner workings of a busy law office with its non-stop calls and interruptions. He should be relieved, and when he stopped licking his wounds long enough, he realized he was.

  Though she had married him in a noble gesture toward his ailing father, Grace Morelli had given Chase no indication that she had her sights on anything else where he was concerned. She’d even signed a prenup without hesitation.

  As the sky turned to black and the woman next to him continued to focus elsewhere, Chase knew he’d made the right decision to take Grace up on her proposal—detour and all. The last thing he needed was a woman to fall for him—or worse yet—fall for his money. Whatever was left of it. He needed to protect himself from that happening again, and from the looks of it, he had.

  Five

  The first thing she noted about the beach house was the smell, a familiar mix of salt, sand, and damp wood. And the sound of wind tunneling its way between gaps of warping windows. Grace stepped inside and stopped, grief hitting her in the windpipe.

  “What is it?”

  Chase’s smooth voice provided an instant of comfort, followed by one of dread. Her parents hadn’t been in this house in, what, years? Yet their fingerprints were all over the place.

  Though she longed to spin around and bury her stinging eyes in the hollow place at the base of Chase’s neck, Grace pulled herself together. She inhaled sharply and forced herself to look around the great room that had hosted not only her family, but renters for ages.

  In the dining area, an old map hung over the wooden table, a faded testament to her and her siblings’ nightly geography lesson.

  The couch and her father’s old chair were upholstered in deep grey with threads of black, perfect for hiding hot dog grease and other evidence of food eaten in the living room.

  She took several more steps inside. Oak-stained cabinets bore dark smudges from years of touch. Although no dishes were present, a metal colander sat atop the dish drainer, as if waiting to assist in producing a meal. Next to it, a spray of fresh daisies sprang from an old tumbler.

  She plucked the note from among the flowers:

  Welcome home, chickadee! Love, Wren

  Their longtime neighbor must have received word that Grace would be the first to come home.

  Chase’s hand on her upper back brought her to the present. Softly he said, “Would you like to take Zeke while I grab the luggage?”

  Grace nodded. She dropped the note on the counter and took the pup from Chase’s arms. They’d made a pitstop about a half hour before to let the little guy roam on a grassy area, so she held him close and burrowed her fingers in the folds of his skin. She wound her way through the hollowness of the old house, stroking Zeke’s fur over and over again, cooing to him as she did.

  She stopped on the threshold of her parents’ old bedroom, well, the master bedroom of the place. Frayed drapes that were once the color of fresh tangerines hung from painted metal rods hiding the fact that a showstopper of a view lay just beyond the now-beige coverings and wavy glass windows.

  Chase appeared beside her. “I’ll put your things in here.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s yours.” She couldn’t stay there, not now. “I’ll take my own room down the hall.”

  He nodded once. “Lead the way.”

  She led him to a room with a double bed situated against the wall and draped with a beige bedspread with a big blue whale in the center of it. The walls of the room had been painted in sea glass green, as had the nearby wicker bookshelf and TV stand. A huge overstuffed whale sat on the floor in a corner. The windows were much smaller than the ones in the master bedroom, but they had been replaced after an incident involving a flying block of surf wax.

  She’d have to give Jake a hard time about that … if she ever saw her hard-headed brother again.

  Chase put her suitcases on the floor, beneath a window. He looked at her with that one eyebrow stuck in the up position.

  She stared back at him.

  “Guess I’ll get to bed.”

  She nodded. Worries over her tragic financial situation had dulled in comparison to the flood of memories that washed over her as she stood in this whimsical room that hadn’t changed much over the years. That and the fact that she had brought a fake husband home with her had pretty much eclipsed all other thoughts.

  “Grace?”

  She allowed her eyes to fully focus on Chase. His dark eyes seemed to drink her in, and though she shuddered at being caught bare with unresolved concerns, she couldn’t look away. In another place, at another time …

  He smiled. “Sleep well.”

  “Good night,” she said.

  Chase dipped his chin, eyes locked on hers, and backed out of the room, closing the door as he did.

  Grace opened her eyes, her phone a harsh wake-up call. “Hello?”

  “Good thing you answered,” Maggie said. “Did I wake up your Mr. Charming?”

  Reflexively, Grace turned her head to the empty pillow beside her. She exhaled and shut her eyes again. “Hold on a second.”

  Grace swung her feet to the ground and padded across the room to grab her jacket, which she slipped on over the yoga pants and T-shirt she’d slept in. She grabbed a knit cap from her suitcase and pulled it low around her ears.

  Her sister’s voice floated through the phone’s speaker. “I don’t have all day.”

  “Hold on,” Grace muttered into the phone. “I’m going outside.”

  Grace stuck her head out into the hall and looked around. The aroma of fresh coffee met her senses, but otherwise there was no sign of Chase. Or Zeke, for that matter. She made a quick exit through the side door at the end of the hall, past the room she and her siblings and friends once gathered in to watch TV ad nauseam.

  Outside, clouds had gathered to greet the morning sun rising in the east. She pulled her coat around her tighter and plopped down on the worn wooden staircase that led to sand.

  “Okay. I’m here.”

  “We want to meet him.”

  Grace licked her lips and glanced out to sea. She knew this was coming. It was the reason she had asked Chase to join her here for her month-long stay. She couldn’t let the truth come out, not after the charade she’d agreed to had gone as far as it had. If her siblings knew the truth, they’d spill it. Then where would they be?

  She watched a gull land on the sand next to another one and nudge it away. The first gull nudged back. “When will you be here?”

  Maggie laughed. “That’s not happening. We’ll do it by Skype tomorrow night. I’m guessing you have your computer with you, am I right?”

  “I do.”

  “Well, since you didn’t exactly invite us to your wedding, I’m sure you don’t want us on your honeymoon either.”

  Grace shook her head. “It’s not—”

  “Whatever,” Maggie interrupted. “I’ll call in and you and lover boy should plan to get cozy around the screen. Family meeting at 7 p.m. your time.”

  Maggie hung up before Grace could say goodbye. She grimaced at her phone, wanting to pitch it at those bickering sea
gulls.

  “Good morning.” Chase had appeared, the puppy leading the way.

  Zeke tried to scamper up the bottom step but got stuck and began to whimper. Then he lifted one tiny leg and peed on the corner of the first step.

  Grace scrunched up her face, a smile breaking out. How could it not?

  “C’mere, little guy.” Chase scooped up the dog, and Grace tried not to notice his bicep flex. He plopped Zeke into Grace’s lap and stood back as the puppy practically mauled her, his sandpapery tongue greeting every exposed inch of her, which was, basically, her face.

  Grace laughed in spite of herself. “Silly, silly, puppy!” Fur and paws and happy snorts burrowed themselves into her neck.

  Chase stood a few steps down looking scruffy and wearing the kind of smile she’d seen before, the kind that transformed weekenders from work-weary travelers to beachcombers without a care in the world.

  Chase’s arms were crossed as he watched her cuddling with the puppy. “I made some coffee.”

  She nodded.

  “Left you plenty.”

  “Thank you. I had to, uh, take a call.”

  He quirked his head.

  Did she want to mention just now that her siblings wanted a meeting with both her—and him?

  “So,” she said, “you’re a morning person, then.”

  He let out a slow laugh and dropped his arms to his sides. “We have to be in our business. Clients expect that.”

  She shrugged. “But you could have slept in today.”

  His eyes snagged her with a look. “I suppose I could have had someone not been begging for my attention.”

  Grace squinted down at him from her perch, warmth rushing through her. Then Zeke snorted and stretched his enormously long tongue to give her one swift lick on the chin.

  She laughed. “Ah, I see. Sorry about that. I’ll make sure to get up early tomorrow and walk him.”

  Chase shrugged and edged closer to her, stepping two steps up. “Wasn’t a problem.” He glanced out to the cresting sea then swung a look back to her. “Tell you what—we can switch off. One of us makes coffee while the other walks the dog in the morning.”

  “Good idea. Like partners on a project.”

  “Sure. Like partners.”

  Grace stood, Zeke tucked into one hand. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t care to linger there on these steps, but she’d read some troubling emails on the drive out. Sure, Chase was handsome—hot, really—and he liked dogs, which was a plus. Zeke snuffled into her hand, as if to agree.

  But if the emails Mick had forwarded to her were true, she had already taken on more than she had anticipated.

  “Well, hello there!” Wren Mcafee, the family’s longtime neighbor, appeared near the base of the steps. She wore a yellow sun hat tied at the chin over her black curly hair and a smile as wide as the sea. “Saw the lights go on last night but didn’t want to disturb you.”

  Grace scrambled down the stairs. “Wren.” She gave the woman a hug, drawing in the faint scent of burnt cedar.

  Wren pulled back slightly and allowed her gaze to sweep across Grace’s face. “You are a sight, dear one. How I’ve missed the Morellis around here.” There was a hitch in her voice.

  The lines in her face had deepened and strands of grey invaded the hair framing her face. But otherwise she hadn’t changed since Grace had last seen her. She appeared to be the same woman who would show up on a whim to chat about nothing and everything with her mother during those lazy summers when Grace was a kid.

  “Wren, I’d like you to meet … Chase.” She faltered on the introduction, knowing she should have said “husband.” Grace held back a sigh.

  Wren clutched Chase by the elbows and looked up into his face, as if memorizing him. “I heard the news. You’re a strapping one, aren’t you?” She laughed and it was so familiar that the sound of it made Grace miss her mother.

  “A pleasure, Wren,” Chase said.

  Still smiling, Wren stood back, looking from Chase to Grace. “Now, I know you are newlyweds and all, but I hope you’ll stop in for some lavender lemonade soon.” She reached over to Grace’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I would love to catch up and to get to know your man over here a little better. Will you promise me?”

  A part of her didn’t care to ever promise anything again. How would she handle the questions about how she and Chase met? About their engagement? She couldn’t tell her mom’s old friend the truth, but the thought of lying made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

  Grace nodded. Then she reached over and pulled Wren into a hug. “I can’t wait.”

  Chase poured himself another cup of coffee, eager to tackle more email before day’s end. He had been making progress with Peter Mayer, who, even with his father’s health hanging in the balance between life and confusion, continued to take his calls. He surmised that, although Kate was surely trying to lure him to her new firm, Chase’s marriage to Grace had hopefully altered his ex’s plan.

  Despite it being Saturday and the lure of the expansive beach out there, he had work to accomplish for the toy mogul. Part of that was doing whatever he could to keep Peter’s business, for good.

  Chase took a seat at the worn wooden dining table. He and Grace had settled into the beach house like an old married couple, sans the personal history. He’d made simple ham sandwiches for lunch and she’d accepted one from him. She had eaten hers at the butcher block island, while he’d taken his with him to this table that would serve as his office for the month.

  As he dumped cream into his mug of coffee, he paused. Four plastic sandwich bags had been turned upside down on the sink drying rack. She cleaned out and and saved plastic baggies? Odd.

  His mind wandered back to their stops on their travels here. Though he had tried to buy her dinner, she’d refused. While he ordered a burger and a beer, she’d opted for a side salad and water that she insisted on paying for herself. Later, when he’d ordered a latte at a coffee house, she’d asked the barista to refill her water bottle.

  And what was up with all those coins she had emptied from her purse earlier in the day? He’d watched her methodically counting them out. Then she’d looked up at him and froze, her hand hovering over her stash, fingers dangling as if still counting …

  The screen door clamored to a close and Grace tumbled into the kitchen looking windblown and hurried, her rings of blonde hair in a tangle.

  “Phew!”

  “Cold out there?”

  “What? No, not really.” She glanced down at Zeke who skidded into the kitchen. “Got him out just in time, that’s all.”

  He took in the mongrel that was currently searching nose to ground for fallen morsels. Chase looked up. “Ah, I see.”

  “And I picked us up some muffin tops from a new bakery nearby.” She held up a bag.

  “Muffin tops? They’re the best part.”

  “That’s what I said to the woman in there!”

  “You’ll have to take me to this bakery sometime.”

  She shrugged. “If you’re nice to me, I will. Such a nice addition to our little beach town.”

  He clucked his tongue. “One way to show you how nice I can be is to let me help you with the pup next time.”

  She raised an eyebrow in a way that reminded him of himself. “You can help potty train a puppy?”

  He shrugged. “Why not?”

  She gave him a smile-frown, the kind that said, I don’t believe you but whatever … “He’s almost there, I think. And let’s be real—” she glanced around the great room—“it’s not like he could really hurt anything around here.”

  Chase crossed his arms, the mug of coffee in one hand. He leaned his backside against the tile counter that housed the sink’s vintage faucet. “This place has good bones.”

  “You mean it’s a dinosaur.”

  He laughed. “Naw. It’s old, that’s for sure, but it’s solidly built.”

  “How can you tell?”

  He gulped his coffee and s
et the mug on the counter. “Because I didn’t feel like it was going to be washed into the sea last night when the wind came up.”

  “Ah, so you’re going the scientific route.”

  He grinned. “Never mock the gut feeling.”

  Something curious crossed her face then, as if she wanted to express a thought but suddenly caught it before it left her mouth. Chase pressed his lips together and waited, but when she didn’t say anything, he said, “You haven’t really told me much about why we’re here, Grace.”

  “Oh but I did. I’m here to fulfill my part of the will’s stipulation and you’re here because of that busybody reporter on the ship. If he wouldn’t have scooped our, um, event, then you’d be off the hook.”

  He pondered that. “I’m curious about something. You had only been working at the firm about a week when we had our … meeting. Right?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  “So had you already discussed this month-long vacation with Judith?”

  She slammed the dog’s leash onto the counter. “What are you accusing me of?”

  He coughed. “I am not accusing you of anything. Just asking you a simple question.”

  Grace’s expression hardened and her chin jutted out, her eyes aflame. “Save that tone for the courtroom.” Her voice was measured, firm. “We’re in this together, you and me, for better or worse, and I won’t be talked to like that.”

  Chase felt his own chin harden. “Where is this coming from?”

  She licked her lips and huffed out a breath, that fist still pounded into her side. “It’s been a long week, Chase. Let’s just get through this, all right?”

  “Whatever you say.”

  Her eyes stared back at him, stilled. “My sister Maggie called today and the family wants to meet you.”

  “You didn’t say anything to her about …”

  “Our arrangement? Of course not. I couldn’t do that to … to …”

  “Me?”

  She looked at him like she wanted to gouge his eyes out. “To your father. Poor man believes all of this.” She waved her hand dramatically toward him. “Anyway, we’re being summoned to a meeting tomorrow night via Skype. Actually, it’s going to be a weekly meeting.”

 

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