Mail-Order Brides for Christmas Read Online Frankie Love, Hope Ford, Fiona Davenport, S.E. Law

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Novella, Romance Tags Authors: , , ,
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Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
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Though, smelling the chili on the stove, I know one way I can contribute — home-cooked meals. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten dinner from a can in my life.

The food is dished up in bowls by the time I return to the kitchen, and he asks if I’d like beer or wine. “Neither, thank you,” I say.

“You mind if I do?” He points to the beer in his hand.

“Oh no,” I say. “I don’t mind at all. I’m just starving and know if I drink anything before I eat, I might do something I’ll regret.”

He chuckles, sitting down at the table opposite me and picking up his spoon. “I thought you might already have regrets. Coming here to me and all.”

“I don’t regret this. At least not yet,” I say with a smile. He doesn’t laugh. Is he just nervous? “I would like to get to know you though. Why did you order a bride?”

He shrugs, taking a swig of his beer. “It wasn’t me who ordered you. It was my mother.”

“Your mother?” I frown, trying to digest this. “So you didn’t want me?”

He takes another bite of chili. “It wasn’t just you. She ordered six brides.”

My eyes go wide, panic in my voice. “She ordered you six wives? There are the other ones?”

He laughs. “No, she ordered a bride for each of her sons. I have five brothers.”

“Oh, I saw them in the family photo. At the Christmas tree.”

He nods. “Yea, my mom wants us to save the town and came up with an insane idea.” He goes on to explain his mother’s plan for her boys to save Snow Valley, how each brother needed a wife.

“And you all agreed to this?”

He shrugs. “What choice did we have?”

I swallow, suddenly not very hungry. He didn’t ask for me. Didn’t want me. I was thrust upon him. Tears fill my eyes.

“Don’t cry,” he says with a groan. “Fuck. Look, I couldn’t piss off my family. It’s not personal. Besides…” he shakes his head. “You’re way too good for me, Hattie. I can already tell. You’re, like, a Christmas card.”

“What does that even mean?” I ask, shaking my head.

“On the outside you’re a pretty picture, and inside you’re filled with sweet words. Only good stuff comes in the mail at Christmas. And you’re living proof of that.”

“If I’m such a perfect package, why do you sound so defeated?”

He runs a hand over his beard. “I’m not marriage material. You deserve better.”

His phone rings before I can respond. He answers it, frowning as he takes in the information from the other end. “Understood,” he says. “We’ll touch base tomorrow.”

He hangs up and shrugs. “Pastor Monroe can’t make it up to the cabin. The snow blocked him in.”

Tears fall down my cheeks. It’s December 1st. It was my one and only Christmas wish to get married today. But how can I explain that to the man who just told me he never wanted me in the first place?

Chapter Five

Hartley

Well I’ve really gone and done it now.

My bride-to-be is sitting in a puddle of tears after I just clearly said every last thing wrong.

I thought honesty was the best policy — and my words were true. I am not good enough for her. This sweetheart, who walked around my man-cave of a cabin touching things tenderly, taking it all in as if it mattered. As if I matter. She didn’t kiss over canned chili or judge me for drinking. She took off her coat once the cabin warmed up and is all curves, but covered in a layer of tenderness — a cream-colored sweater, a string of pearls. Corduroy pants in dark red that hug her ass. Everything about her is soft. And it makes my calloused heart seem even less appropriate for a woman like her.

But now she is crying, and I don’t have experience fixing things when it comes to women’s emotions. According to the girls in town, I haven’t exactly treated them with care.

“So I’m guessing my brutally honest approach upset you?”

She wipes her eyes, sniffling. “That’s the most you’ve said to me since I got here.”

I run a hand through my hair, considering how to answer.

Before I can, she keeps talking. “But it isn’t the honesty that’s the issue. The fact you didn’t ask for me, that I can work worth. I can make myself indispensable to you, Hartley. I know I can.”

“Then why are you so upset?”

Her shoulders shake and she begins to sob into her hands. This is all new territory and I hesitate — but only for a moment. I remember my mother’s words out in front of the hardware store this evening: You don’t tend to share your emotions, Hartley. And this stranger is going need you to communicate.

I get out of my chair, and pull hers out too. I take her hands. Trying to be a goddamn man. The man she needs. Because I may be in all-new territory, but so is this little thing. She’s in a new place, with a man she doesn’t know, and there isn’t a soul around she can count on besides me.



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