Grace's Fake Groom

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by Francesca Lane


  Chase glanced at his fiancée, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Absolutely. Anywhere … but on a boat.”

  Laughter flowed through the room, bouncing, joyful laughter, just like it often had when they were kids, far before they had their own worries to obsess about. It occurred to her that they had, somehow, found a bit of that again.

  When her parents had left the Morelli kids the beach house, they’d all been confounded by the rule that each one stay a month before they all decide what to do with the place.

  As Grace took in the faces of her siblings, their expressions filled with wonder and laughter and curiosity, she began to understand.

  “Jake,” Grace said, “I’m passing the baton to you. It’s your turn to start your month of memories at the beach house.” She paused. “So get your booty down here already!”

  Another whoop of laughter went up inside the family’s old beach house. Then Chase pulled Grace even farther from view, away from gaping eyes, and kissed her in a way that was anything but … fake.

  I hope you enjoyed reading

  Grace’s Fake Groom,

  book 1 of the Beach House Memories series.

  Want to read more?

  Turn the page for a sneak peek into Jake’s story:

  Daisy’s Secret Billionaire.

  Sneak Peek of Daisy’s Secret Billionaire

  Chapter One, Scene One

  “We’re depending on you, Jake.”

  Jake slammed his truck door and stepped quickly across the parking lot of the Clothing Mart, his sister’s admonition ringing in his mind. Maggie was the eldest—and bossiest—of his four sisters, and though he was older than her by nearly two years, she still had a way of making him listen.

  He chuckled, despite the predicament he found himself in—the same predicament all his siblings found themselves in: Jake and his sisters had inherited their parents’ beach house. Some might have found that enviable, but he found the circumstances … odd. After their parents’ untimely deaths, he and his siblings discovered their mother and father’s assets had been given away to various charitable causes. Except for their summer home—their well-worn, in-need-of-work beach house.

  The catch? Each sibling had to live in the house for a full month, alone, and make necessary repairs. If they refused, the house would be given away to charity. No exceptions. And at the end of the five months, the executor of their parents’ estate informed them, they all had to stay in the house together. He shuddered. Jake was the lone brother to four sisters—this didn’t bode well for him.

  A man in a baby blue vest greeted him. “May I direct you, sir?”

  “Men’s clothing.”

  The man smiled kindly and gestured toward the farthest corner of the warehouse-sized structure. Of course. Jake offered his thanks and snaked his way through the store.

  “You’re not in the big city anymore,” Maggie had chided him earlier on the phone. “So get yourself some clothing suitable for the beach—get rid of those wing tips you wear to business meetings and please start work on our parents’ house right away. We need to sell it soon!”

  There had been an urgency in Maggie’s voice that he had noticed for some time. He’d learned that she was having some financial problems, and in his own way, he had done something about it. Though no one in his family knew what he was up to—that was strictly between him and his banker.

  Jake blew out a breath, clearing his mind the best he could. In addition to family troubles, tiresome accusations—and a mammoth lawsuit—awaited him in Los Angeles where he lived and worked nonstop. Like Maggie, he wanted nothing more than to serve his month-long sentence at the beach house and make the improvements necessary for him and his sisters to get top dollar for it—then let it go.

  A wall of denim greeted him. He exhaled. Not the designer brands he was used to, but they would do. He grabbed three folded pairs in his size and stacked them in his arms. Next, he moved to a table of board shorts and T-shirts in vibrant colors. Neon … everywhere. No thanks.

  He added a couple pairs of the shorts to his stack and scanned overhead signs for directions to plain, white undershirts. There. He made a beeline for the next section where a ladder partially obscured the wall.

  That’s when he spotted her: a woman standing on the highest rung of the rolling staircase, her feet shod in stilettos, her skirt short enough to call him to task for noticing. He glanced around. Didn’t this violate some kind of OSHA law?

  He cleared his throat.

  Her gaze traveled lazily down the length of the stairs, one delicate hand curving around the railing. A flicker of … something appeared on the woman’s face when she caught his eyes. The look speared him, as if she held him in contempt.

  That’s when he noticed one of those pointy heels hovering over the waffle pattern of a step. She was definitely tottering. What were the chances of it landing solidly in one of those stiletto-heel-sized holes?

  “Can I help you down?” he asked, ignoring the dagger in her gaze.

  Waves of blonde locks cascaded down her shoulders. She smirked. “No thanks. I’ve got it under control.”

  He crossed his arms. “Clearly.” A part of him demanded that he walk away. Why would he choose to pick a fight with a stranger? And yet … something in her expression egged him on. He pointed to a sign above the ladder that said Employees Only.

  She snapped a smug smile at him, as if he were a naughty child. “How do you know I’m not an employee?”

  “The absence of a brightly colored vest.”

  She nodded, though it was anything but sincere. “Right.”

  She turned her back on him and continued to hunt for whatever it was she was hunting for. Jake frowned. What in the world was her problem? Didn’t she know how dangerous this was?

  A male voice shouted from behind. “Excuse me, excuse me! What are you doing?”

  The woman pulled several more packages from shelves, kicked off her heels, and hopped down to the floor as a manager approached them both.

  “You should have called for assistance,” the guy said, scolding them both.

  The woman ignored him. She flashed Jake a winning smile and handed him a package of wife beater T-shirts. “Here’s what you were looking for,” she said sweetly.

  Then, she disappeared.

  Pre-order now: Daisy’s Secret Billionaire

  Also by Francesca Lane

  Hello ~

  Thank you for reading Grace’s story! If you enjoyed it, would you consider leaving a review on Amazon? Even one line would be helpful. I’d be super grateful!

  I don’t know about you but I believe in quiet, barefoot days, aimless musings, and falling in love with sweet, romantic stories. If you do too, please watch for the rest of the Beach House Memories series—coming soon!:

  Beach House Memories series

  Grace’s Fake Groom #1

  Daisy’s Secret Billionaire #2

  Luke’s Second Chance Family #3

  Lacy’s Billionaire Boss #4

  Bella’s Reluctant Cowboy #5

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