by Frankie Love
“Everything has been arranged. We’ll say the vows in a room just over there. I have a prenuptial agreement stating that we take from the marriage only what we brought into it in the event of a divorce. The marriage has to be consummated and last long enough for the land purchase to go through.”
I stopped listening after he mentioned the prenuptial agreement, but by the time I decided it was a reasonable request since we don’t know each other yet, he was finished saying the rest of whatever he was saying.
He’s gruff and says it all matter-of-factly. He’s pointing to a room off to the side instead of looking at me. He’s nervous… or he doesn’t want to do this. Are they forcing him to marry me? As soon as the thought pops into my head, I can’t get it out. I can’t marry someone that is being forced to do it. Does he not want to marry me?
I follow him, wheeling my first suitcase along behind me. I’m surprised the wedding is happening so soon, but Joy did mention that Mason was in a time crunch for some reason. The room I follow him into has two people inside. It surprises me so much I nearly trip over my own feet.
“What’s wrong?” Mason asks me, gripping on to my waist to steady me.
“Isn’t your family coming?” I ask. I know he has five brothers, and I have to be honest, seeing Joy right now may help me a little bit. I need to see a friendly face. I had hoped my soon-to-be husband would offer me some kind of kindness or friendliness, but he looks as if he doesn’t even want to look at me.
“My brothers are tying knots of their own, they couldn’t be here,” he tells me by way of explanation of why none of his family is here. He hands me the contract with a pen and then leaves to go speak to the other two men in the room.
I skim the contract and sign it as I hear Mason asking where the second witness is. I can see that he’s stressed out. I want to help, but I don’t know a single soul in Montana. Then I remember Serge.
“I can call my friend Serge. I met him on the airplane, and he might still be close,” I offer to the three men standing across the room. Anxious now, I set the flowers on the nearest table and wrap my arms around myself.
The two strangers seemed to be taking in my offer, but Mason seems angry at my words. He starts to say something but bites off his words when the second and final witness walks through the door. “Sorry I’m late.”
Mason doesn’t reply, just looks at his watch and then at me almost angrily. I begin to think that maybe he has a bad temper. I’m beginning to have second thoughts, but before I can voice them, the minister wants to begin the marriage ceremony.
I start to walk toward Mason, but stop mid-stride. “Mason, can we talk for just a minute?” The way everything is being rushed, I know I have to at least have a conversation with him before I do this. I knew it was going to be rushed. I knew I was going to be married today. But I had expected at least a conversation first and not one where he’s looking at me crossly.
He leaves the other three men to talk and comes toward me, looking at me expectantly. The anger is still there, but at closer look I can’t help but wonder if I’m mistaking the anger for something else.
“What do you want to talk about?” he asks grudgingly.
I can’t help it. I laugh loudly. The other men look over at us, surprised before they go back to talking and ignoring us. “Oh, I don’t know. I thought we could at least talk a little before we did this,” I tell him, pointing toward the front of the room where we are to be married.
He shifts his weight to the other foot. “Okay.” He seems unsure. “You start.”
Never one to just hold things back, I ask him straight forward, “Do you want to marry me?”
My stomach seems to plummet when instead of answering me, he asks me the same question. “Do you want to marry me?”
I answer him honestly, “Well, I thought I did.”
I start, but I don’t get to finish. “Until what? You met pretty boy on the airplane or until you got a good look at me?” he says, pointing to the side of his face.
Then it dawns on me. He’s jealous. The man I’m to marry, the man I just met, is jealous. And how can he even think I would want Serge? My God, Mason is more man than I’ve ever known.
I decide right then that I’m going to do it. I’m going to marry Mason Mistletoe.
I don’t answer him, not ready to tell him everything and too shy to tell him just how handsome I think he is. I march to the front of the room, and when I turn back toward him, he’s just standing there, staring at me. “We going to do this, Mason? Because I’d like to be married to you,” I tell him almost shyly.
He walks toward me slowly, obviously confused. He stands facing me, and I wish we had more time. I wish we could at least get to know each other a little bit before we do the ceremony. But in my heart, I know this is what I want to do.
Mason takes my hands in his, and I gasp softly. The sensation of heat and desire that originated at his touch and then radiates throughout my body is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. As his eyes snap to mine, I know he feels it too. He tightens his grip, and I can see the vein throbbing in his forehead.
We say our vows, repeating word for word what the minister tells us to say. And when Mason puts the rings on my finger and gives me the ring I am to use for him, my hands are shaking. I’m suddenly nervous at what it’s going to be like to kiss him if just touching his hand has me tingling from head to toe.
Chapter Four
Mason
I disregard the surge of attraction that pulses throughout my body. It’s just a built-in, natural response to an attractive female, nothing more. And it’s not like I can do anything about it now. I’m pretty sure I’ve already freaked out Mia, and I don’t know why she’s going through with this anyway. I know I’ve scared her and am causing her to have second thoughts. Man, before the war, before the scar, I was the life of the party and could make anyone feel comfortable. But not anymore. I don’t want any attention on myself, but I’m finding that I want hers. I want her to look at me and never look away. I clench my jaw and remind myself again that this is just a business deal. That’s all. We are getting married to save Snow Valley. Nothing more, nothing less.
So why do I feel such a strong sense of possessiveness toward her when I slip the engagement and marriage rings on her finger? Why am I seeking her eyes out, wanting to look into their depths when earlier I didn’t want her to look at me at all? And why do I feel the vows I repeat to her to the very depths of my soul? Even though I tried to convince myself that we can get a divorce if this doesn’t work out, I know that there’s no way I would go through with it. The promises I’m making to her right now I plan to keep. At least I will as long as she lets me.
Her quivering hand as she only just manages to put my ring on reminds me that she doesn’t want me. And maybe she doesn’t feel the vows as strongly as I do. She’s freaking out, and the way her breaths are labored I’m almost worried she’s going to pass out. This is all just a business deal. That’s all. A business deal. It’s almost like a chant that is on repeat in my head. Call it what you want, but I’m guarding my heart because this little petite woman with the curves and innocent face has me wanting things I shouldn’t be wanting. Things I shouldn’t even be thinking about. Like spending forever with her in my arms. Before I can get further into my thoughts, I drag my eyes from hers.
My military training has my senses kicking at me that someone is watching us, and I look over at the window of the door.
Pretty boy is on the other side, watching us. I should have known that he wouldn’t just disappear, but I can’t say that I blame him. I don’t think I could walk away from her easily either. Obviously, he thought more of their meeting than she did.
My hands tighten on Mia, and she looks at me questioningly. Her shining blue eyes are clear as a cloudless summer sky. She’s beautiful and breathtaking, and as of right now, she’s mine. And I plan to claim her.
The possessive feeling returns, and I give in to it as the minister announ
ces, “You may now kiss the bride.”
I’d planned to give her a simple kiss, but as my lips touch hers, that plan goes out the window. I give her such a deep, searing kiss that anybody watching knows that Mia belongs to me. I kiss her longer than I should, considering the fact that we just met and also the fact that she is probably scared to death of my gruff demeanor. But I can’t let her go. I wrap my arms around her, resting them on her back and tugging her close, fitting her against my hard body. The hard peaks of her nipples scrape across my chest. The moan either comes from her or me or the both of us, but it doesn’t stop me from sweeping my tongue in her mouth and tasting her before forcing myself to pull away before I embarrass her even further.
I stare down into her red face, and it’s deeply satisfying to find her eyes still closed after I end the kiss. She reaches up and touches her lips with her fingers as if she’s savoring the kiss we just shared. I completely understand, because I’m licking mine, wanting just another taste of her. She’s flushed, and when she opens her eyes to look at me, I can see the desire in their depths. She wants me. There’s no doubt about it. At least I know that even if she isn’t attracted to me physically, she is to our chemistry.
I don’t even have to look to know that pretty boy is no longer standing in the window. That’s right, Serge. She’s mine.
Chapter Five
Mia
I ask him a lot of questions once we are in his truck on the highway heading to a cabin he rented for a few days. It isn’t the honeymoon in Paris I’d imagined for myself in my youth, but sitting next to the only man who’s ever stolen my breath and made my body burn hot from a single kiss makes me not even care about what kind of honeymoon I’m going to have. A cozy cabin with Mason where we can get to know each other and spend our first Christmas together…. I’ll take it.
Mason doesn’t talk much. His answers are short, at least the ones he actually gives. He doesn’t seem to want to share very much of himself. Maybe he’s shy, and just needs more time.
He doesn’t ask me questions about myself but listens when I offer up my answers to a few of the questions I asked him. The drive seems long, and I hardly slept the last two nights I was so excited and nervous about coming and meeting and marrying a stranger. I could almost fall asleep in his truck if my nerves would let me.
The longer we go, the more insecure I feel. It’s awkward now, and instead of a comfortable silence, I feel like there is a heavy weight all around us. “Mason?”
He seems to wait for me to continue, and when I don’t, he asks, “Yeah?”
“I know this is weird and you can tell me no…” I start and then stall.
He doesn’t respond, just looks in the rearview mirror and back at the road again. I put my hand on the console between us.
He still doesn’t look at me, but the corners of his lips tilt up. “What is it? I won’t tell you no. I mean, what kind of husband would I be if I told my wife no about something on her wedding day. What is it? You don’t want to go to the cabin?”
“No! I mean, yes, I want to go to the cabin. I uh, well, I’m a little nervous and I thought maybe, if you don’t mind, maybe you could hold my hand if that’s all right,” I ask him. My voice, once strong and demanding, fades off with insecurity. I mean, he’s my husband. Surely to goodness I can ask him to hold my hand. I flex my hand, palm up on the console between us.
He looks taken back for a minute and I think he’s about to tell me no. “You want me to hold your hand?”
“Forget it,” I tell him and start to pull my hand away, embarrassed.
But Mason reaches out, taking my hand in his. He curls his fingers around mine and holds on to me tightly. Pure happiness surges through me, and I couldn’t hide my smile if I tried. And of course, now, after looking straight ahead the whole way, Mason now chooses to look over at me, and I can’t wipe the goofy grin off my face.
Instead of smiling back, he grunts and nods his head at me. “We’re married, Mia. You don’t have to ask me to hold your hand. You don’t have to ask if you can touch me, or really, ask for anything. You want something from me, something I have or can give you, you take it. It’s yours. I know this—the arranged marriage and well, me—isn’t what you were expecting, but I’m going to do right by you. I promise. And if there’s anything I can do to make you happy, well, I’m going to do it.”
It’s the most words he’s ever said to me, and instead of grumbling and attitude, I got poetry. Stunned is the only way I know how to describe it. If I was standing up, I’d probably fall over at his words. As his hand tightens on mine, I can’t help but push him a little further. “So if I wanted to kiss you, just out of the blue, you’d let me? I can kiss you anytime I want? Because I have to tell you, you don’t seem too happy I’m here, so I just want to be sure that I get it all right.”
He seems taken aback. He opens his mouth and then closes it again. He brings our hands up and presses his lips to the back of my knuckles. “I’m your husband, Mia. And you’re my wife. I know nothing about today was normal, but what I do know is that you can kiss me anytime you want. And you’re wrong, Mia.”
“Wrong about what?” I ask, feeling lost as I watch his lips touch my hand.
He drops our hands to his lap, pressing my palm to his thick, corded thigh. I can feel the muscles pull and flex under my palm, and he rests his hand on top of mine. “I do want you here. With me.”
My whole body shivers, and I can feel my heart start to race. He wants me here. I could keep talking, asking him questions just so I can hear his voice, but I don’t. I sit next to him in the cab of his truck, listening to the soft song on the radio as he drives us to our honeymoon cabin. I’m not expecting words of love or anything like that, but for the rough start we had, it’s definitely improving. I look over at Mason and watch him as he drives before smoothing out my dress.
“Your dress is pretty,” Mason says even though I don’t think he even looked in my direction to see me smoothing it out. Maybe because he says so very little, his compliment means more to me because I can feel my cheeks burning with my blush.
“Thank you,” I tell him before looking out the window and already trying to picture what our future holds.
Chapter Six
Mason
I pull into the driveaway to the cabin that is in the mountains of Snow Valley. I could have just taken her home, to my place at the edge of town, but I thought this would be better. We need time to get to know one another. My family has decided that instead of a big Christmas, we will see the family closer to the New Year to give everyone time to get settled. But I know my family, especially my mom. There’s no way she could stay away, and I don’t want to share Mia with anyone right now. I want to spend it with her and only her.
I help her out of the truck and carry our bags inside, setting them by the front door. “Would you like something to eat?” I ask her. “I had the fridge stocked up. I wasn’t sure what you liked, but I made sure to get a variety of things.”
She’s gripping the edge of the counter, her knuckles white from the pressure, and I know she’s nervous. “I, uh—” She puts her hand over her stomach and grimaces. “I don’t think I can eat anything right now. Nerves!” she says with a laugh.
I hold my hand out to her, and she looks at it for what feels like minutes but is probably a mere few seconds. I almost pull back, rejected, but she finally reaches out, putting her hand in mine. “I’ll show you around.”
We walk around the cabin, and I show her the rest of the kitchen and living room. She admires the Christmas tree in the corner, and after seeing the pleasure on her face, I’m glad that the company had the cabin decorated for the holiday. I pull her toward the stairs, grabbing one of her bags on the way and then release her hand so I can follow her up the stairs for the bedrooms. Her hips sway in front of me, and the sound of her dress swishing back and forth mesmerizes me. Her dress is fitted along her bottom and short enough I can see her curvy calves. With my mouth watering and tel
ling myself I need to relax before I scare the daylights out of her, I take deep, muted breaths and ignore the expanding bulge in my shorts.
I show her the bathroom in the hallway, a spare bedroom, and then the bedroom that I had already set my suitcase in earlier. “I’ll bring your luggage up in a little while.”
She looks around the room and walks toward the window, looking out at the backyard. “It’s beautiful, Mason.”
I walk up behind her, but instead of looking outside like I intended, I’m looking down at the top of her head. Her body is tense in front of me, and I reach out, my hand spanning her waist. She turns in my arms and looks up at me with hooded eyes. Because I can’t not do it, I lean down and capture her lips with mine. She kisses me back, her hand cupping my jaw and stretching along my neck.
Our lips move against each other, until instead of soft and exploring, something switches, and it becomes something more. The kiss turns frenzied and demanding, and my hands start to roam her body, across her shoulders and down her back to land on her sweet, full backside. I squeeze her, pulling her into me, and before I’m too far gone, I feel her tense in my arms, like an iron board, hard and unyielding.
She’s repulsed by me.
I drop my hands instantly and step back from her. Her lips are wet, swollen, and red. Her eyes are glassy and looking back at me with desire. But even seeing all that, I know I need to walk away. I’m not going to push myself on her.
I leave without a word, tromping down the stairs and out the back door to go chop wood. I have to do something to get out my frustrations, and wielding an ax is going to do it. I remind myself for the hundredth time, This marriage isn’t real, it’s just business.
But even as I mutter it under my breath, I can’t tamp down the thought that maybe we could make it real.
