Small Town Girls Don't Marry Secret Princes: A Small Town Contemporary Christian Romance (Beaches of Trumanville Book 2) Read online

  Small Town Girls Don’t Marry Secret Princes

  CAROL MONCADO

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Letter to Readers

  Acknowledgments

  Preview: Small Town Girls Don’t Marry Their Best Friends

  About the Author

  Other Books by Carol Moncado

  1

  Lani Beach’s eyes narrowed at the man standing in front of her.

  The man that was far too attractive for her own good.

  At least she’d only see him for a couple of minutes then never again. She wasn’t even sure what his name was since someone else had arranged this transfer.

  But Lani still had a hard time believing what she’d just heard. “You don’t know where the Crimson Knights’ stadium is? They play baseball - you know, the game with the stick and the ball - in Maryland Heights, near St. Louis. They get paid. People go see them.”

  “I know what baseball is.”

  She couldn’t quite place his accent - but was pretty sure listening to him talk for any period of time would drive her crazy - in a good way.

  “But I’ve never been to the stadium. I’ve been to the other one, the one named after a beer, but not theirs. Well,” he admitted. “I drove by the one named after a beer.”

  She took a deep breath and prayed for patience but reminded God she already had plenty. She just needed not to lose it. “Fine. I’ll go myself. I can handle it. We’ll take a nice picture for the group then I’ll go to the stadium myself.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want to be in the pictures. I’ll take one of you with Queen Grace’s Coronation Gown Replica doll. You can have them post it. Just leave me out of it.”

  “Whatever. But I already took a picture when I picked it up in Tulsa. I don’t need another one.”

  Lani just happened to be in the right place at the right time to help with something really cool. She, and most of her siblings, were in a Facebook group for quirky things found in flea markets. Someone posted a picture of this Queen Grace Coronation Gown Replica doll. A guy in Ohio saw it. Said his grandmother had helped make the original. The guy called the shop but they wouldn’t hold it or ship it to him.

  The “Internets peoples”, as Ohio guy’s granny called people he’d only ever met online, rallied around the cause. One bought it and another coordinated a cross-country relay to get it to its final destination.

  While in Tulsa picking up Z-racks for her theater department, Lani had seen a post asking for help. The woman who was supposed to have the Tulsa-to-Joplin leg of the relay was quite sick, as was the woman who was supposed to handle the Joplin-to-Springfield leg. Since Serenity Landing was only a few miles from Springfield, so she’d offered to take it to the next volunteer.

  After pictures with the woman from Edmund, near Oklahoma City, Lani had gone on her merry way. Three hours later, she connected with the man who was supposed to take over from Springfield to Maryland Heights in St. Louis County.

  “But I said I’d do it,” the man went on, unaware of her internal musings. “I have a phone with GPS. I’ll be fine.”

  “Do you know where the Bradley Garza statue is? Because if you don’t, you’ll be silently ridiculed by anyone you ask.” Maybe. Most baseball fans in St. Louis were kind and good-natured - even when they played each other in the cross-county series.

  “I’ll figure it out.” He opened the door to his car - a car that was much nicer than her own ten-year-old Honda. “If you wouldn’t mind putting the doll in the back seat for safety, I’ll be on my way.”

  The photos from across the country included various ways of protecting Queen Grace’s Coronation Gown Replica doll during the travels, along with a suitcase that gathered souvenirs along the way.

  “Unless you want to come with me,” he continued. “You clearly know the way better than I do. Perhaps you can help me.”

  She eyed the leather seats that likely had both seat warmers and seat coolers. They had to be smooth as butter.

  And he could be crazy.

  “Fine. But I’m texting my family where I am and who I’m with and your license plate number.”

  Harry - what kind of name was Harry? Unless you were the second kid of the heir to the throne of England, no one was named Harry. - actually winked at her. “Don’t worry. I’ll text my family the same thing. Including your license plate, in case you’re lying about who you are.”

  “Whatever.” She took his picture before he could stop her then another one of his car with the plate. “My aunt is a judge, just so you know. She knows people and police and everything else.”

  He laughed, a deep rich laugh she wouldn’t have expected. “First, I promise you’re safe with me. Second, your aunt the judge is likely an intimidating woman. Third, you have no idea the kind of resources my family has, so I’d recommend you not try anything with me.”

  Lani ignored him as she texted Madi the information. Her sister was actually the one who’d told her about #OperationCoronationGown in the first place. As a writer, her sister was trying to figure out how to use something similar for a meet-cute.

  Because of course she was.

  Lani climbed into the passenger seat of the SUV. “Let’s go, Prince Harry.”

  “What did you call me?”

  She looked over to see the formerly smiling man looking almost angry. “Prince Harry. Like the son of Prince Charles and Diana? He’s the only other Harry I know of, except Harry and the Hendersons. You’re not a hairy Bigfoot type, so I went with Prince Harry.”

  “Well, don’t call me that.” His tense shoulders started to relax.

  “Noted. Just Harry it is.”

  Harry walked around the car and climbed in his own seat. He punched the button to start the car with one finger then turned to her and held out a hand. “My apologies for my reaction. Might we start over. Hello. I’m Harry. I have an aversion to being called Prince Harry, but otherwise I’m a rather nice fellow.”

  Lani grinned and reached for his hand, completely unprepared for the shock of electricity that shot up her arm and the warmth that spread through her. “I’m Lani. Lani Beach. I won’t tell you what Lani is short for. I probably won’t tell anyone until maybe my deathbed.”

  “Not even your husband?”

  She shook her head. “No. Not even.”

  He winked at her again. “Then I’ll consider it my duty to find out.”

  His Royal Highness Harrison Edward Alfred Cordova of San Majoria struggled to avoid road hypnosis as each rotation of the tires took him closer to Maryland Heights, Missouri and the stadium where the Crimson Knights played.

  But road hypnosis was better than being distracted by the beautiful blond sitting in his passenger seat.

  He could have used his phone to find the Bradley Garza statue where he was supposed to meet the next traveler on this
trip.

  Even though he kind of wanted to keep the doll for himself.

  After all, it was a likeness of his grandmother on the day she and his grandfather were crowned king and queen of San Majoria. The dress was handcrafted, just as her real one had been. He’d bet Grandmother would love to know about this whole thing.

  She’d probably hop on a plane and meet the group giving it to this other grandmother and hand it over herself, since this other grandmother allegedly helped craft the original.

  “Can we stop at the first Rolla exit?” Lani didn’t look at him but still typed furiously on her phone.

  “Sure.” He’d never stopped there, never driven this stretch of highway, but he could figure it out. The sign on the side of the road told him they were about twenty miles from Rolla.

  Easy enough.

  “How did you hear about this?” Lani asked him, setting her phone upside down on her lap.

  “Hear about what?”

  “Operation Coronation Gown.”

  He shrugged. “I happened to see a friend share something and thought it sounded really cool.” There was no way he would tell her that it was his grandmother who wore the actual dress many years earlier or that he’d talked to her earlier in the day but hadn’t mentioned it to her.

  It had been shared in San Majoria a number of times. It might get back to his grandmother yet, but he didn’t want anyone to know he’d been a part of it.

  “Why would you volunteer to go so far when you’ve never been there?”

  “Someone said they could get it to Springfield. Someone else said they could pick it up in St. Louis. They needed someone in the middle. I don’t have anything going on right now, so it’s not a big deal for me to drive up.”

  “Even though I was later than you’d originally expected? You know it’s going to be like two in the morning by the time we get back.”

  That hadn’t occurred to Harrison. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. If it was just me, I’d probably get a hotel and spend the night.”

  “There’s merit in that idea.”

  As soon as he’d said it, he’d started thinking about how to do that. “I’d get you your own room.”

  “I’ll get my own room.”

  “It’s the least I can do.” He pulled his phone out and unlocked it, pressing on the Kraz Suites app before handing it to Lani. “Find a hotel near the ball field and reserve a room.”

  His security team had already thrown a fit about him making this trip without them. They’d really read him the riot act for spending the night at a location that hadn’t been secured ahead of time - and giving his phone to someone who hadn’t been properly vetted.

  They’d started the process as soon as he told them she’d be going with them. He would have heard by now if anything immediately concerning had popped up.

  “Um, there’s a problem,” Lani said after tapping a few times.

  “What’s that?”

  “There’s a big series going on this weekend. There’s only a two-bedroom suite left at the Kraz Suites near the stadium. We could go farther away or to a different hotel, but which one?”

  “No. It has to be Kraz,” Harrison told her. It was the only chain his security team might not flip out over. “We can share a two-bedroom suite just as easily as we could share two separate hotel rooms. I’ll even give you the bigger room. It probably has a better tub, if you’re a bath kind of girl.”

  “Because I clearly brought my bubble bath with me? Or a change of clothes or a toothbrush or anything I need to spend the night away from home?” She shot him a glare. “I’m gonna need to visit a superstore of some kind at some point.”

  “No problem. Would you like to go to the game, too?” He wasn’t sure what prompted him to ask that. He’d never been to a big-league game, but she seemed to be a fan.

  “You can’t get tickets. They’re sold out.”

  Harrison winked at her. “Want me to try?”

  Lani snorted. Actually snorted at him. “The prices would be absolutely ridiculous. If we get to the hotel in time, we can watch on the television there.”

  “Reserve the suite,” he told her. “Then let me see what I can do.”

  She hit a few more buttons on the phone then handed it back over.

  Harrison put his wireless earbud in. “Call Dalton,” he told his phone. When his assistant, one who still lived in San Majoria and helped out the rest of his family while Harrison lived in the States, answered, he went on. “Hey. There’s a Crimson Knights game this evening in Maryland Heights, Missouri. Can you see about getting tickets for me and a friend?”

  “Price?”

  “Whatever.” He was willing to pay it, but it wouldn’t make a dent in his bank account.

  “I’ll call you back when I have details. Do you want seats or a box or suite or just whatever I can find?”

  “Seats, even nosebleed seats, would be all right.” He didn’t want to come right out and say no box, but that kind of seat would invite a lot of questions he didn’t want to answer.

  “I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks.”

  He turned the phone off. “We’ll see what happens.” Flipping his blinker on, he eased into the off-ramp in Rolla. “Do you have a gas station preference?”

  She pointed to the station across the street. “That one works.”

  He went ahead and filled up his fuel tank while she went inside. About the time they were ready to get back on the road, Dalton returned his call.

  “You’re in luck, sir. You have some friends who have a suite and are more than willing to share, but I couldn’t get two seats together anywhere else.”

  “That works then. Who is it?”

  “Jonathan Langley-Cranston, Christopher Bayfield, their wives, and a few of their friends will be there.”

  Great. Famous people. Surely he could give them a high-sign to not mention who he really was. “Thanks, Dalton. I appreciate it.”

  He steered the car back onto the highway. An hour and a half to get to know Lani before it could all fall apart.

  Could he do it?

  2

  This guy wasn’t as bad as Lani had originally thought, but she’d be glad to get home in the morning.

  But staying in a for-real suite with a jetted tub?

  Heaven.

  As long as Not-Prince Harry kept his promise and let her have the master suite.

  “So we’re supposed to meet this lady at the Bradley Garza statue after the game? Or before?”

  He glanced at the clock on the dash. “In about an hour.”

  Lani did some mental math. “I don’t think we’re going to make it.”

  After punching in his code, he handed her his phone. “Would you message her?”

  She found his messenger icon, but a text came in before she could. “Someone named Astrid wants to know when you’ll be home?” So he had a significant other. She shouldn’t have been surprised.

  “My sister,” he explained, before her musings went too far. “She’s hoping I come home for a visit soon.”

  “Where is home?” His accent told her he hadn’t been raised in the States.

  “San Majoria. It’s an island nation on the southern edge of the Sargasso Sea.”

  “I’ve heard of it.” She started to hand the phone back, but a message came in from the woman asking if they could meet after the game instead. Apparently, she had tickets and had planned to put the doll in her car during the game, but wouldn’t have time if they met later.

  “Can we take it to the suite with us?” Lani asked. “I don’t know that leaving it in the car is the best idea, even if it was a protected lot.” Wasn’t that where people with suites got to park? As a last-minute addition to the group, they might not get to.

  “It is,” he confirmed. “They’ve got me on the list, so we’ll be able to park there, but I’m inclined to agree with you. We can take it in with us then meet her.”

  Lani started to message the woman when anothe
r text from Astrid came in. “Your sister is saying something about a wedding.”

  “One of my other sisters.” He flipped on his blinker to go around a semi-truck. “She’s been engaged for like a year and a half but no closer to the wedding, and it’s driving her nuts.”

  “So why don’t they just elope?” It wouldn’t be Lani’s first choice, but she could definitely see the appeal.

  “It’s a long story full of family dynamics and family politics.” He sighed. “If it had been up to Jacquie and Dave, they would have been married by this time last year.”

  “They should just do it. My next oldest sister basically eloped about a month ago. They planned it in a week, and it was in the backyard of their new house. There was like thirty people there. Maybe a few more, but not many. My aunt married them, but she marries a lot of people who elope.”

  “Good to know. If I ever need to elope, I’ll give her a call.”

  Lani laughed. “She’ll appreciate that. She loves doing weddings, but I’ll warn you, she’ll try to talk you out of it if she thinks you’re doing it for the wrong reasons or that you’re not a good match.”

  “How does she know that if she’s just met them long enough for them to elope?” Harry finally moved the car back to the right lane after passing a long line of traffic.

  “She has a sixth sense about these things, and she’s always right.” She was the only one who knew the truth about why Lani came back from LA where she had attempted to make it as an actress but ended up waiting tables at a cafe instead.

  Except that once.

  And why she was only taking an off-screen role in Madi’s HEA TV movie that would start filming in a couple of weeks.