But He's My Fake Fiancé (But He's a Carter Brother #3)

by Annah Conwell

She giggles and the whole store brightens. The sound embodies pure joy and I’m convinced it could chase away rainclouds on the darkest, stormiest day.

My mouth falls open in shock. He attempts to stick a French fry in it. I swat his hand away, trying not to smile as he laughs.

Before he can catch me staring, I stand up and avoid looking at him as I pull the white gauzy dress over my head. I wore one of my favorite swimsuits today. It’s dark green, with high waisted bottoms and a halter neck top with scallop trim. I take a deep breath, prepare myself for whatever his reaction might be, and lift my head. Grayson is on his knees in the sand, bowing down repeatedly. That is not what I expected to see, to say the least. “What on earth are you doing?” I ask him. He pauses, arms raised above his head. “The only thing I can before such magnificence: bow down.” “You are ridiculous.” I’m torn between melting and dying of laughter at his response. “Get up before people start to stare,” I say, unable to keep from giggling.

Emotion burns within me as I realize just how perfect she is. She’s the sun-warmed towel waiting for you when you get out of the water. A chocolate chip cookie right out of the oven. The kind of book you read over and over again because it never gets old. She’s comfort and adventure intertwined in the most achingly beautiful package.

“Says the guy who’s constantly talking about how perfect his face is.” “Hey, I compliment Adrian too,” Grayson says. “Because you have the same face!”