Jake scowled.
One by one his sisters lodged questions at him, but Chase barely heard them. Instead, the aroma of burnt spices, perhaps cinnamon and cedar, reached him, his stomach roiling slightly. He looked out the window again, that glow growing bigger. He pressed his nose against the glass.
Smoke?
Chase showed his face to the webcam again. “Looks like smoke next door. I’m going over there.”
“Should one of us call 911?” Maggie called out.
He opened the door, the stench of burning tobacco filling his nostrils, fear consuming him. “Yes. Do it!”
He tore out of the house then, running across the patio decking, then leaping over the short staircase to the sand. “Grace?”
A fizzle-like sound followed by silence greeted him. The dim light to his path went dark and he threw a glance back to the beach house. Black. He craned his neck to look down the beach where other houses stood. Not a light on anywhere.
Power was out.
A woman’s voice cried out, “Wren!”
Chase ran up onto Wren’s deck. “Grace! It’s me!” He twisted the front door handle, and finding it locked, banged his fist on the door. “Where are you?”
No response. His heart rate sped, the throb of it pulsating in his ears. Another cry from a woman’s voice reached him, though it was faint. The smell of smoke had grown stronger, tingling the insides of his nose.
He jumped down the stairs, ran around the house, and skidded to a stop in the sand. Fire was burning through a large patch of seagrass mere feet from Wren’s house. The fire could sputter out if it reached the sand, but if it blew closer to the house? He shuddered, the force of fear hitting his jaw, which clenched so hard it ached.
“Chase? Up here!”
He spun a look upward. Grace waved both arms at him from a second-floor deck. “I can’t get Wren to wake up!”
The deck itself must have been built ages ago, braced by the house on one side and two narrow wooden pillars on the other. The growing fire provided the only light, save a few stars. He had to get to them—to Grace—before it grew out of control and reached that deck.
“I’m on my way,” he shouted, skirting the growing fire and taking the back stairs two at a time. Surely one of Grace’s sisters would get through to the fire department.
He reached for the doorknob and twisted it open with one turn. Inside the house hung heavy with the smell of old tobacco and the infilling of smoke. He coughed and shielded his mouth and nose with his sleeve. He hurried upstairs, passing a couple of bedrooms before he found the one with the deck off the back of the house.
“I can’t believe … I can’t believe you’re here.” Grace’s flew into his arms, her breath hot against his chest. She drew back, her wide eyes filling as she blinked away the tears.
“What’s wrong with Wren?”
She tilted her chin up. “I can tell that she’s breathing but she still won’t wake up. I’m so worried it’s a stroke.”
“Did you call for an ambulance?”
She shook her head. “I’ve tried using my phone, but it’s dead.”
He exhaled roughly, his brain trying to wrap itself around the past few hours. To think … his biggest concern about coming back here tonight was a brawl with Grace’s brother.
That… and whether Grace would allow him back inside her house.
A scorching wind gusted suddenly, wreaking havoc with their efforts to hear each other. Embers blew onto a rugged metal table and fizzled out. He snagged her with a look. “The wind’s shifting. You have to go!”
She shook her head, vehemently. “I can’t! The fire—I’m afraid it’s going to get out of control soon.”
A look of terror flashed on her face, yet she stayed rooted. Chase searched his memory. What had she said about her family losing a house to fire?
Grace gaped at Wren, then to the rising flames, and back to Chase. “I tried to lift her but she’s dead weight.”
He squatted next to Wren and checked her pulse, his expression grim. He called to Grace over his shoulder, “Before we lost power, I told your sisters to call the fire department. Any sign of them?”
“Oh, I was hoping they’d been called! Maybe I should look for them.” Grace leaned over the railing, searching. The old wooden railing began to sway and Grace screamed. Chase leapt forward, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her to safety.
Another rush of wind and heat caused the sweat on his face to drip off of his chin. The fire popped and a red hot ember landed onto the deck. Chase stomped it out with his heel and shouted, “Grace, go! Run to safety!”
Her body began to shake, but she said, “I’m not leaving you!”
He straightened and traced that beautiful, stubborn face of hers with his eyes. No one had ever said anything so aggravating—and stunning—to him in his life. Ever.
He brushed a kiss across her lips, then quickly tore his phone from his pocket. “Here, then. Help me see what I’m doing.”
Grace grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him back. Hard. Then she took his phone, switched on the flashlight, and raised it above him and Wren.
Chase had spent his life running as far from the flames as possible, but now, as the fire grew hotter, he found the strength to stay and fight back. Carefully, he lifted Wren into his arms and carried the ailing woman away from danger with Grace in the lead, lighting his path.
Thirteen
Darkness greeted the pair as they stepped inside the beach house. They’d been gone for hours and the electricity had yet to be restored.
The fire department had finally arrived and quickly extinguished the blaze beside Wren’s home—but not before significant damage had been done to both the deck and the exterior wall from which it sprang.
“Poor Wren is going to have a mess to come home to,” Grace said, wearily. She felt her way through the living room and into the kitchen. “I’m so thirsty. Can I get you some water?”
Chase followed her. “Yes, thanks.” She handed him a bottle and he took a sip. “You were her savior tonight, you know.”
“I wouldn’t say that. You were the one who carried her down that dark staircase like a champ. I—I was so scared for her, Chase.”
“Come here.”
Instinctively, Grace reached for Chase. When she found him, she let her body sink into his embrace.
Though she had her suspicions, Grace didn’t exactly know the cause of her sudden tears. The strain of the evening’s events? Chase’s sudden reappearance when she literally did not know what to do? Perhaps it was a little of both.
Whatever the cause, Grace’s tears, uncharacteristic for her, flowed like a water spigot with its handle broken off.
Chase cupped the back of her head with his hands, his fingers lost in her mop of hair. She tried to pull back, to give him a way out of her emotions, but he held her tight, supporting her.
When her tears had stilled some, she tilted her head up. Her voice was thick. “What are we going to do, Chase?”
The question hung between them. He didn’t bother to ask her what she meant—he knew. They had made a simple pact. He’d satisfy the requirements of his father’s will and she would earn money for her wickedly high debts.
But the engagement turned into a hastily planned wedding.
An onboard reporter made their secret known.
They’d been lying to her family—and his—ever since.
Oh, and this one: They were not actually married.
Despite all the uncertainty, this she knew: his presence lit her senses, heating her through. Everything about his being here felt good, it felt right … and she didn’t want him to leave again. Ever.
But …
Could she trust him with this intimate piece of her? Her heart? She swallowed back a harsh sigh. Why couldn’t she just stop with all the overthinking?
She sucked in a breath. “Chase—”
He found her mouth then, silencing her, his lips upon hers, as if ans
wering her unspoken questions with one smoldering, bold, possessive … kiss.
Her eyes had adjusted to the light enough to see the cloud of wanting in his eyes. A loop of warnings traveled through the synapses in her brain. He wanted her. She wanted him.
But where would that find them?
She cleared her throat and gently stepped back, shivering slightly.
His hands, thoroughly warm against her skin, rubbed the fleshy part of her upper arms. When she didn’t make an effort to leave, he slid his hands down her body until they found the soft indent of her waist, eliciting a soft sigh from her.
He tipped his head, pressing his forehead against hers, a slight sway to his hold on her. “Let’s not tell anybody,” he whispered.
“That we’re not really married?”
He smiled. “I liked things the way they were before.” He paused. “Didn’t you?”
Grace closed her eyes, attempting to steady her breathing. It was as if she’d become locked into a tumbling position on a carnival cage ride.
When she didn’t answer him, he said, “Is there something holding you back?”
She flashed a look at him, part of her wanting to wrap herself body and soul around him, and the other part … petrified.
His hand at her waist loosened and he stepped back, creating a chasm between them. “Ah. I get it. You don’t trust me.”
A male voice coming from somewhere in the darkness sliced into their conversation. “Why should she trust you?”
Grace gasped.
Chase tensed and spun toward the voice, pulling Grace behind him in one powerful move.
But she broke free. “Jake?”
“You expecting somebody else?” her brother said.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting you!”
“Clearly.”
Chase cut in, “Were you ever going to let us know you were eavesdropping?”
“Was thinking about it.” Jake got up from where he had likely been sprawled on the couch. Even in the dark she could see the way he planted his feet solidly on the ground. He’d done that whenever he and their father went at it over his career choice.
Zeke let loose a scraggly bark, followed by a pitiful whine.
“You missing this?” Jake said, and handed the dog to Grace, who tucked him quickly into the curl of her arm.
“Lotta help you are,” she said to the animal. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to keep intruders out?”
“So about this predicament that you guys are in …” Jake started.
Grace said, “How much did you hear?”
“Enough.” Her brother threw a dagger-like look at Chase. She’d seen that expression plenty of times too, enough to fill in the blanks created by the darkness.
“Jerk,” she said beneath her breath.
Jake chuckled derisively. “It might help you to know that until a few minutes ago—around the time all that mauling and lip-smacking started—I had been asleep on Mom and Dad’s lumpy old couch.”
Chase put his arm around Grace’s waist again, just as she readied herself to pounce on her brother, who had, obviously, not grown out of his teenage brain.
Chase said, “Listen, Jake. It’s been a long night. We’re both exhausted, but now that you’re here,” he paused, “I would like to clear up things for you about Grace and me. Right here. Right now.”
Grace stuck a fist into her hip. “Wait a second, Chase.” She hissed at her brother, “Spying on people is illegal, Jake!”
“So is your marriage. Apparently.”
She refused to fall for his diversionary tactic. “You’d better tell me right now what you’re doing here and why you hid from us.”
Jake whistled, the sound of it not unlike their mother’s when she whistled at something that most people just commented on. “In my defense, dear sister, I’ve been looking all over the place for you two. Neither of you answered your phones, by the way.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, there’s no power around here,” Grace said, annoyingly mindful of the rising pitch of her voice. “We used up all the juice in our phones just to get Wren to safety, and neither of us thought about something as mundane as phone chargers when we were at the hospital waiting to hear if the poor woman would live or die!”
“Well, it’s a good thing our good old neighbor had you to watch over her,” he drawled.
“You’re ridiculous. Why don’t you like her?” Her brother’s expression hardened whenever she mentioned Wren. And though she knew it would take some coaxing to find out why—if there even was a reason—she couldn’t help pushing him on the issue.
Jake scoffed, then glared at her.
Chase cut in, gently pulling Grace back from the edge. He put his arm around her, resting one hand lazily on her hip. “I’m calling a truce. Neutral corners for you both. I suggest we lock up this place—”
“So no more intruders get in?” Grace said, eyeing Jake in the shadows.
Chase turned her toward the hallway toward her bedroom. “So that we can all get some sleep tonight. We can talk about all this in the morning. Agreed?”
“Sure thing, pops,” Jake said.
A shrill beep followed by the return of electricity that lit the room. Unfortunately, someone had turned on every light in the place—likely Jake when he came home and found the place dark. The effect was stark, blinding.
They each stood in place, squinting slightly, and staring at each other. Zeke howled at some invisible moon.
Jake pursed his lips and glanced at his phone. He held it up for them all to see the screen. “More than a dozen texts from your sisters,” he said. “They’re asking if the power is back on.”
“Why?”
“They want a do-over.”
Grace scowled. “Now?”
“What do you mean, a do-over?” Chase asked.
Grace cast him a look. “They want to have another Skype call.”
“Ah.”
Jake stepped over to Grace’s computer, which stood open from the earlier call. He slid a look at Grace. “Might want to brew a pot of coffee,” he said. “My guess is this long night is about to get a lot longer.”
He’d never let the brother of any of his girlfriends get to him. Not that he’d stuck around that long to meet many of them. But if he had, well, he’d have let their needling roll right down his back without even a glance.
But this was different. She was different.
And now he had four sets of eyeballs staring him down, as if he was the big bad wolf and Grace was, well, Little Red Riding Hood.
He set his jaw, the nerves in his cheek sore.
“Grace should sue you for sexual harassment in the workplace!” Lacy said, smirking. Grace’s ornery sister had been busy in the last few hours, it seemed. Her hair was piled up in some kind of beehive from the 50s. Her skin looked so slick with something shiny that he had to turn away. Whatever happened to splashing water on your face and hitting the sheets at the end of the day?
“I wasn’t working for him when we entered into this agreement,” Grace said, her teeth obviously clenched.
“Oh no?” Maggie said. “I talked to you when you were heading into work that morning, well, a morning before all this happened, I think. Were you not employed then? Or was that a lie too?”
Grace glanced at Chase, her eyes big and pleading. He resisted the urge to gather her up and charge out of here.
Chase expelled a breath. “Look. I was in a tough position. I told Grace that she no longer had a job with my firm—”
“You fired her?” Lacy scoffed. “Oh, that’s rich. This is getting better and better …”
He spoke through clenched teeth. “You should all be proud of your sister. She navigated my bad news with quick thinking and a savviness that impressed me. When I spilled my guts about my predicament, she offered her services.”
Bella squealed and put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock.
Chase felt a smile try to surface. He looked at Bella.
“Not those types of services.”
Jake’s scoff was harsh, audible. “From what I saw, that’s not entirely true.”
“You didn’t see anything,” Grace spat back.
“Pardon me. That’s right. It was still dark in here. Let me rephrase that: from what I heard in here, that’s not completely true.”
Maggie frowned. “Ew.”
“Yeah, get a room,” Lacy said.
“Of all the stupid stunts, Grace. A fake marriage? Really?” Maggie was scowling, as usual, while simultaneously texting with who-knows-who.
Grace rubbed her hands vigorously on her lap. “You guys aren’t listening! It was a simple business proposition. I suggested that I take on the role of his fiancée to get him out of a jam, and Chase paid me well to do so. It’s no big deal to either of us and wasn’t meant to hurt any of you—we’ve just been playing parts!”
Chase’s gaze darted to Grace, whose face wore a mask of incredulity. While she had been stirred to a frenzy by her siblings’ obvious—and understandable—concern, she’d also managed to land a rocket punch to his gut.
Of course, he kept his face stony. He’d been trained to keep his emotions in check, to not let the other guy see him sweat, so to speak.
Up until now, though, he hadn’t actually been sweating.
His jaw did that clenching thing again.
Was she still play acting? Even now?
Against his best judgment, Chase allowed his gaze to wander away from the screen with the bickering siblings and catch eyes with Grace. And when he did?
He knew.
Grace awoke the next morning, her head throbbing like she’d tied one on the night before. She didn’t wish a hangover on anyone, but frankly, that would have been preferable to last night’s events.
She stared at the knotty pine ceiling, finding comfort in the familiar shapes from her past. She’d made her entire family angry last night—even Bella, it seemed—but she had also found home again. And her parents’ love. And if she really thought about it, even in their anger, she and her siblings had reconnected on some deeper level. That was a fine start.
And then there was Chase. He probably already left—he’d had that look on his face when they finally shut down the call and went into their respective corners, aka bedrooms.
Grace's Fake Groom Page 13
