Exposing the Groom Read Online Rachel Van Dyken

Categories Genre: Chick Lit, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 66259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)

Killian swept in like a knight in shining leather pants to save Scarlett once she exposed the groom. The next time they saw each other, they ended up fake-engaged. Can they find a way to make it down the aisle together and live happily ever after? Find out in #1 New York Times bestselling author Rachel Van Dyken’s EXposing the Groom, a romantic comedy with a side of rockstar.

How it started:
An accidental phone grab during my rehearsal dinner while my fiancé went to use the restroom.

How it ended:
Reading all the dirty texts between him and my maid of honor, aka little sister, during our vows in of the world in what would later be considered one of the most viral wedding videos on TikTok.
Of. All. Time.
Did I mention his vows were before mine, and he compared me to my adopted dog because... and I quote, “I’m so loyal.”
It’s not my fault that my first instinct, after exposing his dirty lies, was to run up to the clueless rockstar that was supposed to headline my reception and ask him to sing my tears away. I never expected him to help me escape certain disaster, kiss me senseless, and then buy me ice cream.
But that was all in the past—until I’m staring down at a wedding invitation from the crappy little crap pants ex. You see, he swapped sisters, and now a year later, they’re getting married at a gorgeous winery while I’m still staring down at a plus one, wondering if I can bring my pet turtle.

How it happened:
In desperation, I sent a drunken text to the hot rockstar with a picture of my turtle, Chuck Norris… in a bowtie. Who knew he would show up at the wedding—but get this, it wasn’t to save me, nope, it was to… yup, SING!
But now that he’s there and I’m there, and the history is there, I beg him one more time to save me, this time as my date.
But lie after lie just kept pouring out of my mouth until we were somehow fake-engaged.
I would laugh if crying didn’t feel so good.
Should have brought the freaking turtle.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************



It will, one hundred percent, go down as the most viral moment of my life—not on purpose. I think it was pure uncontrollable rage that pushed me down the aisle. My smile is perfection, cameras flash from all angles blinding me as I walk. Everyone stares like I am living the absolute dream. I even believed it for a few seconds.

He smiles at me, my fiancé Rob—what kind of name is Rob anyway? The things that I remember are always dumb ones, like Rob was never the name of the hot guy in college, at least give me a Zane or a Jesse, but no, I chose Rob.

Rob is safe.

Rob is secure.

Rob is boring.

But boring is at least predictable, right?


So. Wrong.

I used to date Adrians and Dukes—Adrian was the one you never brought home to your parents in case they disown you for life because he was constantly causing trouble in school, and Duke, well, he was actually British and so hot I introduced myself as Scarwet when I met him; he thought I did it on purpose. I’ve never been more mortified. I guess there’s always room for more embarrassing moments. Lucky me.

Rob was in law school, came from money, had sandy brown hair, crystal blue eyes, a sharp jawline, and no joke, a country club membership at age fifteen. The guy was probably born with golf clubs in his hands. But I digress.

I’d like to point out I never ever thought about cheating on him, not once.

Not even when I got tired of missionary and asked if he’d pull my hair only to have him say he was concerned that something was wrong with me.

“Women belong in a certain place, Scar, and you’re so classy, how could I possibly do that to you? Let me just hold you, you’re my treasure.”

Oh yeah, he’d said treasure, and the idiot that I am, I melted like, OMG this guy is the best, while in the back of my head, I was like but what’s so bad with being a little dirty? A little bad like I was with the other boyfriends? And who the hell uses the word treasure? Is my hoo-ha a blushing flower on top of it?

He’d proposed months after we both graduated college, and I just let both moms take over what was supposed to be the wedding of the century between two of Seattle’s richest and most elite families—which by the way, mine was rising on the way to the top and it was made even easier when the great Rob Danish the Third gave us instant access to his lifestyle.

I still remember going into the Everett Country Club and nearly passing out after using the bathroom. It had perfume, like actual perfume for you to spray down your shirt so your boobs smell like heaven. And not the Walgreens brand I kept grabbing because it was convenient and, in my opinion, smelled identical. No, they had Gucci, Prada—they had everything and mints that probably cost more than my Nordstrom Rack purse, my parents were worth a lot of money but they always kept us humble and never really exposed us to the other side of life.

I take another step toward Rob.

He smiles like I am his world, his eyes blurry with tears.

My heart sinks, knowing that it is all a lie.

I’d been lying in bed all night staring up at the fancy ceiling with its intricate designs and moldings and wondering if I could really do it.

My family will be disappointed if I don’t. This is a whole new world for us. It opened doors that we could have never possibly dreamed of, despite our success. Plus, my dad has a startup that Rob’s family already funded.

My sister is obsessed with her new big “bro.”

He calls her Sprite and buys her expensive purses, so of course she loves him.

Should have seen that coming when he asked what kind of dog I wanted to adopt in order to prepare for the brood we would have later. Yeah, he said that to my face while she was walking around with a Birkin bag, but according to him, it was refreshing that I didn’t need those things.

Listen, though, just because I don’t need them, doesn’t mean I don’t want them or would say no to an exclusive Hermes scarf just so I could rub it up and down my body. That’s just science!

Tears flow down my cheeks as I take another two steps toward my father at the end of the aisle. He’s softly crying, his tears mixing in with his trim white beard. He’s wearing a black suit with a gray vest and tie. He looks so handsome that I feel even more sick. He’s just… so proud, but he has no idea where my thoughts are. Mom’s standing proud in her chic silver gown and matching tuxedo jacket, and she already has the tissues out, dabbing lightly so as to not mess up her makeup.