Grace's Fake Groom

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Grace's Fake Groom Page 8

by Francesca Lane


  She broke free from his embrace, embarrassed by the slight gasp she made when they parted.

  “Well, shew, woman,” Lacy said, fanning herself. “I was thinking about a little peck on the lips, but okay.”

  Grace wouldn’t make eye contact with any of her sisters. If this was how these weekly calls would go, she’d have to find a way not to be home next week.

  “Grace?” Maggie said. “Let’s get back to details. All right? Maybe you could start a list going, okay, hon? Jot down the things you think we have to fix right away and maybe we can all cobble together the funds to get those things done over the next few months. In the meantime, you can do some cleaning while you’re there, hmm?”

  Bella piped up. “Oh, but don’t use dangerous cleaners. I’ll send some cleaning solution that I make with essential oils. They do wonders—you’ll see.”

  Grace had managed to pull her attention back to video chat in time to see Lacy roll her eyes. “Well, since our baby brother didn’t join us tonight,” Lacy said, “my guess is he’ll show up there some night with a to-do list. It’s not like he lives all that far away. And the man’s an architect, for crying out loud. It’s about time he picked up some of the slack.”

  The others conceded with a nod or a hmm. They agreed to meet again, same time, same place, next week. Grace’s agreement was less than enthusiastic.

  After her sisters signed off, Grace sat like a stone, the roar of the ocean filling what would otherwise have been silence.

  Chase rustled next to her. “That went well.”

  She lifted her eyes, taking in his chiseled chin, the stubble that had formed on his cheeks, and the way his gaze pretended to be all about her. “What was that all about?”

  He frowned, those eyes of his darkening. “Which part are you referring to?”

  She crossed her arms and hugged her middle. “Don’t kiss me like that in front of them again.”

  Chase sat forward, eyeing her. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  He half-laughed. “What I meant was, didn’t you want us to look the part of the happy couple?”

  She didn’t say anything.

  He twisted his mouth. “That’s what I thought.” He stood and offered her his hand.

  She glanced at it, then back up at him. A few seconds of standoff silence landed between them.

  Abruptly, he pulled his hand away. “Fine. Have it your way.”

  The walls were closing in … Grace could feel them. Her emotions had run the gamut today. She couldn’t let them rule her. When had she ever? No, she worked hard to meet her goals, but when she failed? She worked even harder to overcome her failures. That may make her a “goody two-shoes” in Lacy’s eyes, but she wasn’t about to let her sister’s criticism get to her.

  Because that would mean giving up. And one thing she never did was give up.

  Chase was pacing now, one hand shoved into his pocket and the other swinging by his side. When it came right down to the marrow of things, she didn’t know the man all that well. That thought struck her to her core. Maybe she was living with a psycho … a Jekyll and Hyde. Was that why Kate fled?

  She glanced at him again and their eyes met. He stared at her for a beat, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Dang, he’s gorgeous.

  With no words between them, he strode across the room, offered his hand to her again—a little more forcefully this time—and inexplicably, she took it. He pulled her up to him like they were doing the tango on Dancing with the Stars. His chest rose and fell against hers, and he smelled of sea spray and sandalwood. I wonder if Bella could mix up a blend like this …

  “I’d prefer we not fight,” he said.

  She moistened her lips, rubbing them together. “Okay.”

  He peered at her. “All I was trying to say is that I can see that your relationship with your family is complicated.”

  She nodded.

  “I’m sorry … that it appears that I’ve made it even more so for you.”

  Shoot. He was being kind. How was that for a surprise ending to the day? Grace exhaled and shut her eyes. As she did, she sensed him moving closer. She wasn’t about to object …

  A swift knock on the door sent her eyelids furling upwards. Chase let her go and made for the door.

  Wren breezed into the living room. “Saw your light on so I knew you two would still be up. Here.” She extended a pie toward them both.

  Grace centered herself as best she could. Then she reached for the pie, the heat from the ceramic plate seeping through. “It smells amazing. Thank you so much.”

  Wren chuckled. “Just like your mama. She loved pie, too, but of course, you already know that.”

  Grace set the pie on the kitchen island, grateful to be able to turn her back for a moment. She hadn’t remembered that her mother loved pies. How could that be? What other things had she forgotten? She put on a smile and turned back around.

  “Can I get you something to drink, Wren?” Chase asked. He glanced hopelessly at Grace. “Water? Wine?”

  Wren smiled. “Sounds like a miracle’s about to happen!” She laughed. “Or maybe it already has!” Wren’s arrival had awoken the beast, aka Zeke. Or maybe it was the aroma of a fresh apple pie that brought him out of slumber. Wren bent down to give him some proper attention in the form of lavish pets.

  Chase looked positively uncomfortable.

  When Wren stood, she shook her head. “Nothing for me.” She pointed toward the table. “Oh, and your flowers are back at my house. I forgot them on the table.”

  Grace put a hand to her forehead. “Yes, sorry. I meant to go grab them from you, but after chasing our naughty boy down, we came in just in time to have a group call with my sisters.”

  “No Jake on the call?”

  “Afraid not.”

  Wren frowned.

  Grace put on a positive smile. “I’m sure he’ll turn up soon. Probably stuck on some big project.”

  “As usual with that one. Your father and he, well, let’s just say those two were like oil and water.”

  Grace nodded. This was something she did recall.

  Wren slapped her hips. “Well, enough of my intrusion. I must be going now.”

  Grace stepped forward and grabbed both of Wren’s hands. “Thank you again for the pie. I’m sure we’ll enjoy it all week long.”

  Wren rubbed a thumb against Grace’s cheek and gave her a pat. “Ah, you do that, lovey. Could use some meat on you, I think.” She glanced at Chase. “Of course, a baby’ll handle that pretty well, too, am I right?”

  Chase gave them both a look that was dictionary’s definition of awkward. Still, he ushered Wren out the door and stood on the porch to watch her walk home.

  Grace twisted her mouth. Guess a psycho wouldn’t have done that.

  When he re-entered the house, Chase ran a hand through his hair. He looked at her. “I’m beat. You?”

  “Yeah. I am.”

  He nodded. “That pie’ll keep, I’m sure.”

  Grace let out a small laugh. “‘I’m sure you’re right. No doubt it’s fresher than anything you could buy around here.”

  “Well, then,” he said, “good night.”

  She allowed her eyes to catch with his. “Good night, Chase.”

  Then she watched him wander down the hall, with Zeke on his heels, and slip inside his bedroom.

  Eight

  He’d dodged something dangerous. A twist in his gut told him this was true. Although he hadn’t dodged it completely. Not really. He was still married to Grace. Married to a woman who was beginning to ask questions, the same type that Kate had asked him more than once, never able to let go, her mind always working. His ex loved to dance, but even on the rare occasion when she’d coaxed him into joining her, she’d ruin the moment with her constant talk about his work.

  What exactly was Grace’s intent with her questions over morning oatmeal?

  “Tell me about Peter Mayer,” she’d said.

&n
bsp; “He’s my dad’s—well, our—biggest client. Longtime friend. But you know that.”

  “And he’s staying with the firm?”

  “Did he give you any indication otherwise? You know, when he was waltzing you around the cruise ship dance floor?”

  Grace had rolled her eyes at him then, not unlike her sister Lacy had the night of their video chat.

  But Chase hadn’t given in to whatever trumped-up concerns she may have had. He wouldn’t. He had been a lawyer long enough to recognize a leading question, one loaded with innuendo and suspicion. Grace was a babe in the field, but he had to hand it to her, she’d been tricky in his questioning of her this morning—he hadn’t even had his coffee yet! Regardless, she was not successful. Of course.

  He hoped she knew who she was dealing with.

  Then again, he needed her to be on his side—especially where Peter was concerned. The last time Chase had spoken to his father, well, it hadn’t gone well. Chase’s heart dropped into his stomach at the thought of losing the one person in his life who he could call family. He’d made plenty of friends over the years, but how many of those were simply clinging to his father’s coattails? Friends with benefits, so to speak?

  He had lowered his guard where Grace was concerned—this was true. But it had been a momentary lapse. It wouldn’t happen again.

  Zeke yanked the leash, pulling Chase toward the tide. Part of him wanted to get back inside already, to do the work he still had left on his plate and prove that he had everything under control. Maybe by then, his father’s mind would have returned.

  Chase blew out a haggard breath, his mood juxtaposed against the calmness of the sea. The other part of him wanted to wander listlessly with this mangy mutt until the tide washed clear out from the shoreline. He had already made several phone calls on this walk, mostly to former clients who had been dodgy with him.

  He stopped and whistled at the dog, holding steady on the reins of the leash. Zeke pretended he didn’t hear his master calling, but who was he kidding? Another whistle and the dog relented.

  Back inside, Chase freshened the pup’s water and fed him some kibble. He hadn’t seen Grace since he walked in, but maybe that was for the better. They could keep their distance and, at the same time, keep their lives as separate as possible.

  After Zeke was fed, Chase slipped out of his shoes and padded back down the hall toward his bedroom. The sea air had made his skin feel slick with oily moisture and he longed to feel a fresh cotton tee against his body. Grace’s voice, coming from down the hall, filtered into his room.

  “I understand. But I’m only asking for another month or so. Surely that’s not too much to ask.”

  Chase flung his shirt onto the bed and stepped close to the door to his room. He had closed it halfway, but hovered near the opening.

  “Yes, yes, I understand.”

  She sounded disappointed. He wasn’t sure what bothered him more—the fact that she wasn’t able to negotiate whatever it was she was trying to manage or the reality that he was beginning to recognize the nuances of her mood by simply hearing the tone of her voice.

  Her door opened and he heard her feet padding down the hall. Quickly, Chase pulled a T-shirt over his head, rustling around his room in a way that would, hopefully, give her the idea that he could in no way have overheard her conversation with … whomever.

  “Chase?”

  He peeked out his door, a forced look of surprise on his face. “Hey.”

  “Didn’t realize you were back.”

  “Just fed the dog and was planning to do some work.” He paused, noting the downcast of her eyes. “You okay?”

  She brightened, though the smile didn’t meet her eyes. “Yes. Sure. Are you hungry? Was thinking we could have leftover spaghetti.”

  His stomach did a tumble at the suggestion. “Be out in a minute.”

  “I’ll get it started.”

  She left, and though it was only to walk down the hall and switch on a few stovetop burners, he felt something … relief. Yes, relief that he had a few more minutes alone to think about his concerns. One in particular needled him. What was she hiding? He knew that her parents had left her nothing except this drafty house—and only a fifth of that, with conditions attached.

  Was she that in trouble financially that the money he had paid her wasn’t enough?

  A picture formed in his head. She had dumped out her wallet, counted the coins, scooped them into her hand, and jingled them around for a bit, so loudly in fact that she’d nearly woken him fully. He vaguely recalled her saying something about going out, but he was drifting off to sleep on the couch—something he’d prefer to deny but at this moment could not. She hadn’t even mentioned to him that they were all out of dog food. Instead, she’d obviously conjured up all the money she had and spent it on the animal.

  Hmm. What about the money he had paid her? Was she going to start strong-arming him for more? Dread formed in his gut, memories of his mother—a title that bothered him to bestow upon her—grinding through him. His father had loved her once, but where did that get him?

  Chase put on his slippers and wagged his head. He reminded himself once again that he had work to do to keep this ruse alive. It was the only way to meet his father’s requirements and gain back what was rightfully his.

  “Dinner’s ready, Chase.”

  Grace’s voice rang out in the darkness. He sat a few seconds longer and steadied his breathing, regret washing over him.

  If only he could trust her.

  If only she could trust him.

  Grace shook away the thought and gave the leftover sauce another quick stir, wishing she hadn’t checked her email. Mick was raising more questions about Chase’s billing practices, and though it shouldn’t concern her—it did. Like it or not, some emails make it appear that she was married to a guy who blithely overcharged his clients. And then he was surprised that they jumped ship with Kate!

  She sucked in a breath, calming herself down. Though technically this wasn’t her problem since she wasn’t employed by the firm anymore, she had to wonder—was Chase using the money he supposedly made from unsuspecting clients to pay her?

  And what if he was caught? Would he—technically, her husband—be going to jail? And if it was discovered that she was benefitting financially from his illegal ways, might she be implicated too?

  What if he asked for the money back? No way that could happen.

  She exhaled and wiped her sweaty hands on a nearby towel. Then Grace grabbed tongs and began dishing up noodles to each plate.

  “You don’t have to do that for me,” he said from behind her.

  Grace’s hand froze in the air above the pot of noodles. Her face flushed hot. Why was she not only cooking for him, but serving him his dinner, too?

  She turned and tried to hand him the tongs.

  He flashed his palms. “Go ahead and feed yourself first. I’ll wait.”

  Silently, she added noodles and sauce to her own plate, then handed him the tongs.

  His eyes caught with hers, and then he quickly took the tongs from her hands.

  On her way to the table, she grabbed an apple from a bowl on the island.

  Minutes later, Chase sat across from her. She could barely look at him.

  “How’s that list coming along?”

  She looked up, dragging her gaze to meet his.

  He swallowed a swirl of spaghetti. “The list of fixes your sisters mentioned last night?”

  “Oh. That.”

  He glanced about. “Probably would be a good idea to update some things in order to get a good price for the place.”

  “If we sell it.”

  He raised a brow. “Pretty much sounded like a done deal last night.”

  She stabbed at a pile of noodles. “Nothing’s a done deal.”

  He stared at her wordlessly. Slowly, he lowered his own fork and scooped up more dinner. “I suppose not. I’m sure your brother will want to weigh in.”

  Grace
looked up from her plate. “How did your efforts for the firm go today?”

  He knit his brows together. “Excuse me?”

  “You made some calls while you were out with Zeke. Right?”

  He pursed his lips and nodded, his eyes not meeting hers. “I made a few.”

  She tried not to roll her eyes. He’d been on the phone for days, it seemed. “So you’re saying that there aren’t too many clients left.”

  “I’m saying nothing of the kind.”

  “What are they saying to you … when you call them?”

  “Who’s them?”

  Grace sat back and folded her arms. Hunger fled. “The clients who left with Kate. You are challenging that, right? And if you’re not, why aren’t you?”

  “What’s this all about, Grace?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I mean, all this questioning. First all the questions about Peter this morning, and now you’re grilling me about my business.”

  “I wasn’t grilling. Just making conversation.”

  He raised both his brows now and clicked his jaw, as if annoyed. “Maybe we’re playing our roles a little too perfectly. Don’t get me wrong—I’m enjoying the beach. Haven’t relaxed this much in years.” He kept his gaze elsewhere before pulling it back to her. “But if it weren’t for your requirement to stay here for a month, we’d—”

  “Be living separate lives?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah.”

  The fact that he did not come close to answering any of her questions was not lost by his sudden pronouncement. Not in the least. He was dodging, and she wanted to know why.

  She rose from the table, taking her half-eaten dinner with her, but leaving the apple behind. “I’d love to release you, Chase, but it’ll be hard to explain to my sisters why my new husband didn’t even finish out the honeymoon.” She tossed her dish and fork into the sink with a clatter. Through the kitchen window she could see her longtime neighbor puttering on her front porch, a glow of something in her hand. Grace lowered her voice. “Wren might suspect something’s up too.”

 

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