by Frankie Love
“Do you, Hartley, take Hattie as your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do.”
“And do you, Hattie, take Hartley as your lawfully wedded husband?”
She beams up at me. “I do.”
“Then I now pronounce you husband and wife. Hartley, you may kiss your bride.” The pastor lifts a finger, pointing above us.
I laugh as I pull my wife close, kissing her under the mistletoe.
Need a little more of Hartley and Hattie?
Download their epilogue and see where they are in five years!
https://bookhip.com/PFJSNJ
About the Author
Frankie Love writes filthy-sweet stories about bad boys and mountain men.
As a thirty-something mom who is ridiculously in love with her own bearded hottie, she believes in love-at-first-sight and happily-ever-afters.
She also believes in the power of a quickie.
Join Frankie Love’s Mailing List for a free book … plus never miss a new release:
https://frankielove.net/newsletter/
Mason by Hope Ford
Chapter One
Mia
Last Christmas was the first one I spent without my parents, and I promised myself that by the next one I’d have someone to spend the holidays with. I’ve been in a mood lately, unsure of what I need to do but knowing that I need to do something. With Christmas not too far away, I’ve taken a look at my life and am sad to see what a lonely existence I’ve been living in since I lost my parents. It is time to do something. Something drastic.
I can’t keep doing the same thing day in and day out. Get up, go to work at my job as a cashier at the local Piggly Wiggly, come home, watch television, and go to bed just to get up and do it all again.
Sure, I probably shouldn’t have had a few drinks. Especially since I was under the drinking age and had to use a fake ID to get them. And I probably shouldn’t have made such a big decision for my life after having said drinks. But it’s too late to back out now. I signed the paperwork. Of course, I could probably get out of it. Say I was under the influence when I signed them or something. But I don’t want to. The more I’ve thought about it, the surer I’ve become. And besides, it worked for my parents. So why can’t it work for me?
Of course it was a different time and circumstances then. My mom and dad were promised to each other before they even met. Their families wanted to join. My dad’s family wanted to join with my mother’s family’s land. It was the seventies then, so things like that weren’t common. The days of arranged marriages were something of the past, or at least I thought so, and so did my mom and dad. And my mom told me that she was going to refuse her parents and tell them no, that getting married was not an option, they needed to find another way. But as soon as she laid eyes on my dad, she knew she would go through with it. My dad felt the same way. They both told me it was love at first sight. They were married almost twenty-six years, and even though it was devastating that I lost them both at the same time, in my heart I knew it was for the best. Their love was one for the ages. Neither would have wanted to be without the other. They were two halves of a whole, and from the moment they married they never spent more than a night apart. If one had survived the car accident, it would have been too much for them to bear. So now here I’m alone in this world. I have the wineries all in my name, but I don’t work there. I haven’t been able to bring myself to go there, not since the accident. The winery was sort of like another baby to my parents. They loved it, and everything they created there was amazing. I receive my monthly royalty payment automatically deposited into my account, but I don’t touch it.
I look at my packed bags sitting on the floor next to my chair. There are people everywhere, arriving and departing, everyone in a hurry to get somewhere. I like to imagine what each person is doing, like what their life story is. The man across the way keeps looking at me curiously, and I wonder if he’s wondering the same about me. I laugh to myself. There’s no way he could guess that I’m a mail-order bride on my way to meet my future husband.
In the light of day and sobered up, I am waiting on the regret to set in. I signed up online with a matrimony matching website, Mail Order Brides for Christmas. The call from Holly Huckleberry to be interviewed via Skype was definitely interesting as I learned all the ins and outs of being a mail order bride. But what sold me on the idea was talking with Joy Mistletoe. She is my husband-to-be’s mother. She wanted to speak to me before I signed any papers. Joy was warm and excited. She reminded me so much of my own mother that I probably would have promised her anything she wanted. She told me that I would be a perfect fit for her son and their family.
I try to recall everything she said, and I can remember her telling me that she has six sons who own their own businesses, and they are all special guys that have found themselves in a time crunch situation. I know she mentioned the name Mason, and I try to remember exactly what the reason was he needed to get married, but the hangover and too much alcohol has caused my brain to be frazzled.
I look at my phone again and read all the reviews for the matrimony matching website. It seems legit. Darn, I hope it is. I told my friend that I had met someone online. If I told her I was getting married to someone I hadn’t even met, I know she would have tried to talk me out of it. And I didn’t want that.
Anyone else would probably be worried right now, wondering if this is the right thing to do. But not me. When I woke up this morning, I felt refreshed and without the least amount of worry. I expected some remorse or regrets, but I feel a calm come over myself about the whole thing. I feel like leaving my lonely life behind to go and begin a new one surrounded by family is fate taking hand.
As I hear the call to board over the loudspeakers, I grab my bag and start to walk across the aisle. The man that is sitting across from me stands up and waves for me to go in front of him. I smile easily at him and show the attendant my boarding pass before walking onto the plane. As I settle into my assigned seat, I think, This is going to be just like a fairy tale.
Mason
I’m staring at the paperwork in front of me, reading through it all. I shouldn’t even question it. The prenuptial agreement was prepared by Mr. Davis, our family’s lawyer for the last twenty years. He’s trustworthy and knows his stuff. It has all the common information on it and includes the clause that we each take what was ours with us when we get divorced. I’ve tattooed over too many ex-lovers’ names on countless clients to be naïve enough to think that anything real can come of this arranged marriage.
I still can’t believe that my mother set this whole thing up. As soon as she learned about the Titan Corporation coming in to buy the town, she’s been searching to find a way to stop it. We all have. But Mother took it into her own hands. She contacted the mail-order bride company and put everything into motion.
The rules for the town’s ownership are clear and say I have to be married. I’m working on a clause. Something we can figure out about changing the antiquated laws of Snow Valley. Phew! It’s crazy. The owner must be married. It’s a crazy idea, and the rules definitely need changed. Until I can figure it out, we will stay married.
Snow Valley means so much to our community and my family, and I know there’s no way I can let the Titan Corporation come in and buy it. We don’t want a tourist town. We like our town the way it is. My brothers and I are prepared to buy it, but the city bylaws say that the town’s owners have to be married. I think it’s a bunch of hogwash, but there’s no way I’m telling my mother no. I won’t be the one to let my family down, not when my five brothers all agreed to do this. Plus, I’m not so worried about the idea that I would stay married if it turns out really bad. If it comes down to it, I’ll figure out a loophole of selling my shares of the town or something. As long as the majority stays in the Mistletoe family, I won’t need to be an owner.
Marriage really isn’t for me anyway. I don’t believe in happily every afters. My buddies in the service would agree with me. My best frien
d’s wife left him while he was serving overseas. Another friend’s wife divorced him because she fell in love with someone else. Yeah, I’m not a betting man anyway, but if I was, I definitely wouldn’t be betting on the success of these arranged marriages. But there’s no way I could turn down my mom. Not on this. I know how much this town means to her, and there’s no way I’m going to stand in the way of it being kept to its current standards. Snow Valley is a special place, and it means a lot to all of us. It’s where our family is from, it’s where we grew up, and it’s where we plan to stay. We definitely need to preserve the town. For us and for all the townspeople.
So once the decision was made, I just had to go through with it. Honestly, I’m glad Mom had a plan for the arranged marriage. The only prospects I would have had in this town that would even consider marrying the likes of me is Marla, one of my tattoo artists at the shop. She’s nice enough but marrying her would be a huge mistake. She’s already following me around like a lost puppy; she probably would get the wrong idea and think it was a real marriage.
Nope, I don’t need that drama. I need a professional. I mean, what kind of woman would be a mail order bride? She obviously knows what’s up. I shake my head at the thought. My mom told me she talked to Mia, but I didn’t get much more than that. Mom has romanticized all of this, thinking it’s going to be six successful marriages. All I can do is promise her I’ll do my best. I know it’s not going to be some big love match, but we can at least attempt contentment and hopefully just a hint of happiness.
I finish signing and wait for Mr. Davis to give me a copy before giving him a thumbs-up on my way out of the office. I’ve already arranged for a licensed minister to officiate the marriage, paid for witnesses to be there, and by greasing a few palms even got the marriage license rushed through to be ready on time.
It’s all working out. I now only have to pick up my bride-to-be, one Mia Devin, at the airport, and we’ll get married right there. It will be nice and legal once we consummate the marriage. I don’t want this lady getting the marriage annulled as a sham, not sure what the lawyer would say, but I want it to be legally binding.
I can’t stop the shake of my hand just thinking about it. Intimacy and I are strangers. Once I got back from the service, received my purple heart and bronze star, I was too occupied with rehab and trying to heal. My hand instantly goes to my face and the puckered skin on the side of my cheek. Luckily the wound has healed, but it’s still ugly. There’s no other way to say it. I can’t help but wonder if my mother informed the matchmakers or Mia about my face.
I just shake my head, trying to shove my insecurities away. This is happening, and I’m going to make the best of it.
It’s a means to an end, just business.
Chapter Two
Mia
The man that was sitting across from me at the airport is now sitting beside me on the plane, and I’ve learned his name is Serge. He’s a handsome guy and very charming. At least he’s trying to be. We talk most of the way to Snow Valley. Him about the Fortune 500 company he works for, and because I know he doesn’t want to hear about my life as a cashier, I tell him about my family’s winery.
As we get closer to Snow Valley, I start to look out the window.
“I’m only here for a few days, I should be able to tie up business.”
I know he’s about to ask me out, so I interrupt him. “I’m moving to Snow Valley. It is now going to be my home.”
“I may have a little work do while I’m here, but why don’t you let me take you out to dinner?” he asks me.
If I had met Serge last week, I would have told him yes. But not today. I’m not even the least bit tempted. I’m very flattered all the same, and I smile at him with a twinkle in my eye. “I can’t. I’m engaged.”
He looks at my bare finger. “Why are you not wearing an engagement ring?”
I start to rub the knuckle of my ring finger. I’m still excited about this whole thing, but I’m also a little bit nervous. “Well, it’s uh, been an online type relationship. I’m actually going to meet him for the first time in person at the airport.”
Serge is baffled. There’s no other way to explain it. He sputters and stammers. “But, what, wait!” He warns me, “This guy could be anybody. A crazy serial killer or something.”
I wave my hand in front of me, laughing. Maybe I should be worried, but I’m not. I talked to the man’s mother, for goodness sake, and she was—well, she was perfect. I can’t explain it, but I know I trust her. “He can’t be,” I tell him.
“Why not?” he asks incredulously.
I just shrug my shoulders. “The matchmaker and his mother assured me that he is a good guy.” I clasp my hands in my lap, feeling like that is answer enough, but for Serge it isn’t.
He still looks astounded. “Mia, is this an arranged marriage?”
“Yes,” I tell him as the pilot starts to make the announcements that we are about to land. Butterflies start to swarm in my tummy. Not because I’m second-guessing myself. No, I’m getting nervous because I hope Mason likes me. When this first all come about, I didn’t even worry about this. But now, I can’t help but wonder What if I’m not his type? What if he likes skinny women that are quiet and reserved? I look down at the expanse of my hips and know I’m none of those things.
I start to fluff my hair, and I reapply the lipstick to my now faded lips. We sit in silence for a while, but I can feel Serge judging me. As soon as we land, I gather my purse and carryon, walking off the plane.
I can tell that Serge is still taking it all in and doesn’t understand what is happening, but I really don’t feel like I need to share it with him, although he is a nice guy, and I do appreciate his concern. As we are walking to the baggage claim, he still seems shocked. “Are you sure about this, Mia? If you need help, I can help you.”
The concern on his face is genuine. Does he think I’m being forced into this? “I want to do this. I do. Thank you for your concern, but really, I’m going to be fine.”
He walks beside me all the way to the baggage area and even helps me corral one of my suitcases. Before walking off, he gives me a sweet hug. “Good luck, well, with everything.” He hands me his business card. “Just in case the matchmaker is wrong, and you need help after all.”
I start to hand it back, but he cups my hand, folding my fingers around the card.
“Thank you,” I tell him again and put the card in my purse. As soon as he turns away, I turn back to the belt, waiting on the next and final piece of luggage.
Mason
I got here early. I didn’t want to worry about traffic and parking. So for the past hour I’ve been sitting at the baggage claim area, watching all the arrivals. I have a bouquet of red and white roses, since this is how Mia will recognize me per the matchmaker’s instructions. Personally, I’m glad I didn’t have to stand here with a sign and her name on it. For some reason, that seems awkward to me.
Mia is supposed to be a woman with long black hair wearing an off-the-shoulder white lacy dress and matching luggage with the image of the Eiffel tower on them.
I spot a gorgeous curvy woman with black hair and a white off-the-shoulder dress, but she’s walking with some guy. I look away and start to scan the room again, but my gaze is drawn back to the woman. It can’t be her. I try to keep looking, sure I’m going to spot her amongst the other arrivals, but as the last person in crowd enters the area, I’m drawn back to the woman standing with the guy next to the luggage claim belt track.
She bends down to retrieve her luggage and the man helps her, pulling it off the belt and sets it next to her. It’s white luggage with a big image of the Eiffel tower on the side of it. It has to be her.
I approach her and am annoyed when the guy hugs Mia. I hear the pretty boy in the suit and loafers wish her luck and then give her his number. I touch the scar that runs from just under my left eye straight down for three inches before it splits like branches of a river on a fucking map.
I pick up the second piece of luggage off the belt.
“Excuse me, that’s my…” Her voice trails off as she looks at me. I offer her the flowers and then brace myself for the rejection.
Is she going to deny that she’s Mia? Call the whole thing off?
She takes the flowers and her smile is beautiful, but she’s a beautiful woman. Her pity smile couldn’t be ugly, not on her face.
Her eyes go to my cheek briefly and then immediately back to my eyes. I can’t read her thoughts; she is keeping them very guarded behind her light blue eyes and big smile. “Nice to meet you, Mason,” she says, and her voice is smooth as honey. Soft and low and filled with melody.
Speechless, I stare at her. Is this really the woman that signed up for an arranged marriage? She’s beautiful and appears to be sweet. Are the men blind where she comes from?
I know I should offer my hand to her, but I stop myself, feeling for sure that she doesn’t want to be mauled by me at first sight. She’s still smiling, and I appreciate the fact she’s still being polite when it’s clear my scar has startled her. I let her hand go and nod toward the belt. “Do you have any more luggage?”
Chapter Three
Mia
I can’t stop staring at Mason. He’s a tall, powerful looking man. Joy, his mom, said he was just over six feet, with a slight scar on his face, but she’d minimized both characteristics. Mason has to be at least six foot five, and while his scar isn’t slight, it makes him look quite formidable. He’s handsome, and just looking at him almost takes my breath away.
Why hadn’t Joy mentioned how piercing his green eyes are? And wow, his hands are ginormous!
