The Navy SEAL's E-Mail Order Bride (Heroes of Chance Creek)

by Seton, Cora

  Mason stared at her. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No.” She stared back at him. “How would you do it?”

  “That’s the way New Yorkers do it? Everything equal?”

  “Sure,” she said. “That’s what modern couples do.”

  “Like hell,” he said. “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard of.” He realized his mistake when she jerked away from the screen. Damn it, she wasn’t one of his SEALs—he couldn’t talk to her like that. “I mean—that’s not the way I would do it.” He hoped he didn’t lose her over that one. His manners got rusty when he was on tour.

  “How would you do it?” Her tone was positively frosty.

  Mason knew he had to repair the damage. He thought about his words carefully, wanting them to come from the heart so they’d ring true to Regan. How would he do it? “When I marry a woman we’ll throw our lot in together. We’re not going to live like roommates. We’re going to commit to our relationship—to our family. We’ll share our money the way we’ll share the ranch work and raising our kids.”

  “What if your wife wants a trip to the Bahamas and you want a new tractor?” she challenged him.

  “We’ll sit down and look over our finances together and see which is the best choice.”

  “What if you don’t agree?”

  “The numbers will make it clear.”

  “What if your wife wants something you can’t afford?”

  He leaned in closer. “I will work my ass off to get my wife everything she wants, but I will also be up front and clear about what she can expect. We won’t be millionaires, Regan, but we could be happy.” He broke off and the moment stretched out between them. “I mean, whoever she turns out to be, I think my wife and I could make a good life together.”

  “Maybe you should ask the women on your list all the things they want out of life so you can see if you’re on the same page,” Regan said.

  He looked her square in the eye. “Maybe you better make that list, too.”

  * * *

  Regan thought of little else than Mason for the rest of the day as she went for a walk in Central Park and did some grocery shopping on the way home. An image of Mason’s ranch played on a loop in her mind—cattle grazing, mountains in the background, their kids playing in the backyard.

  Mason holding her close.

  With a sigh, she forced herself to picture reality. Her walking down a New York City sidewalk holding her child’s hand. Clutching it. Eating an ice cream cone. While homeless people ask for change. Heading to Central Park to run and play. Alone, since she couldn’t afford more than one child by herself.

  She dropped her purse on the bed to dispel that dispiriting image and fired up her laptop. Mason’s face on her screen made her smile, and she was happy to shrug away her reality to participate in a fantasy for a little while longer. She fished the list of needs and wants she’d composed on a park bench out of her pocket and summarized it for him.

  Mason,

  Financially, I need to feel like I’m making progress each year. In other words, I need to pay my bills, pay down my mortgage—if and when I get one—and put something aside for retirement.

  My wants include a decent wardrobe, my own car, health care, enough cash to furnish my house nicely over time and a fun vacation now and then. I can handle camping trips and state parks most of the time, but I want a few big trips in my lifetime—to Europe, South America and maybe an island or two.

  I want children. Four of them. Now.

  Regan

  She hit send and felt satisfied at how specific she’d been able to get about both her needs and her wants, even if some of those wants were way out of reach. That last bit about four kids was certainly a stretch—a big one—and the idea of a mortgage was laughable, but at least she was able to articulate her dreams. When she had these kinds of conversations previously with other boyfriends, she’d been too shy to be able to express herself so clearly. Was she just getting older or was Mason a better conversationalist?

  She had a feeling it was the latter. Mason obviously had strong opinions, and he expressed them as vehemently as any other man did, but she didn’t feel Mason would disappear if she said the wrong thing. Mason would never shift from his core values, but he’d also try to find a meeting ground between his opinion and hers. That made him an ideal candidate for a life partner.

  But he probably had many qualities that made him less than ideal, she reminded herself. Like the fact he thought he could find a life partner by placing an ad for one.

  She began to work on the website for her consulting business. She had a few potential clients lined up already, and it was important for her not to drag her feet if she wanted to have things situated long before her baby arrived. As she tried to pick a color scheme for her site, she lost a minute or two to daydreaming about her baby. Her single baby. Would it be a boy or a girl? She’d always wanted several of both, but of course that didn’t matter—at least she’d have one, and she’d enjoy every minute with him or her. They’d visit museums and the park, take in all kinds of cultural events and eat at all the different ethnic restaurants. It would be wonderful.

  When that didn’t clear a certain wistfulness from her mind, she visited other websites to gather ideas, then browsed through templates. Fifteen minutes later there was no response from Mason to her e-mail, but when she checked next, there was.

  Regan,

  Four kids? Sounds good.

  Once we’re married, we’ll get right to work on that project. Twins run in the family, but unfortunately there aren’t any quadruplets.

  I’m impressed with the clarity of your financial needs. Although I have a feeling you and I might price a “decent wardrobe” and “nice furniture” differently, I at least can get a ballpark idea of where you stand. I have to admit I’ve never had this kind of conversation with a woman. Mostly I stick to dinner and roses.

  Ten questions minus two questions leaves eight more. Hit me with another one.

  Mason “I Can Provide For You, Honey” Hall

  Once we’re married? That was presuming a lot, but she’d be lying if she said a thrill hadn’t shot through her at reading those words. Mason still considered her in the running for his wife—no matter that she’d never meant to be.

  Regan liked his new moniker, even if she did plan to be self-sufficient. Entirely self-sufficient, as it happened. Twins might be fun, but she wasn’t after quadruplets. She could be patient when it came to expanding her family.

  She rolled her eyes. Her pretend family. Her real family would consist of only two people—her and her baby. The way her mind kept slipping into the fantasy Mason was weaving was beginning to alarm her, because it was making clear to her just how much she wanted that fantasy. And she couldn’t have it.

  Could she?

  She answered him right away:

  Mason,

  Glad to know my wants are within your paygrade, although I thought your plan was for us both to contribute.

  Question #3: How often do you expect to have sex? Where do you draw the line?

  Regan (Blushing in New York) Anderson

  She didn’t have to wait long for an answer this time.

  Regan,

  Morning, noon and night. Can’t think of anything that’s off the table as long as there’s just the two of us, we’re both comfortable, and neither wants to leave in the morning.

  Mason

  What on earth was she supposed to make of that? She read the note again. The fact that he again referred to the two of them as if this was a done deal made her body hum with anticipation. Was it her imagination or had he begun to woo her for real? The thought left her a little breathless. She wanted to be wooed. She was playing with fire, she knew, but it was too exciting to stop now.

  Mason,

  I’m afraid I’m a bit more complicated than you. I don’t think I can answer this one until I know the man I’m marrying. In a perfect world I would trust him completely and sex would be
easy and wonderful all the time. This isn’t a perfect world, though. I’m not one of those women who has passionate, angry sex. When I’m angry, I’m just pissed off.

  Regan

  His answer was swift.

  Regan,

  How’s the makeup sex?

  Mason

  Mason,

  Off the wall.

  Regan

  Her Skype connection rang, startling her. Checking it, she found that it was Mason and picked up. His image resolved itself on her screen.

  “I felt we needed to talk about this one face to face,” he said.

  Regan touched her hair, belatedly realizing that she hadn’t thought about her appearance before she answered his call.

  Mason smiled. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” Regan said ruefully. “I’m not sure what more there is to say, though.” Especially since her heart was pounding. This was just a game, right? None of this was real?

  “Lots,” he said. “For instance, which do you like better, morning or night?”

  She suppressed a grin. “Morning. Or night. I don’t know.” Her cheeks must be scarlet. Was she even having this conversation?

  “We’ll call that both,” Mason said and pretended to write it down.

  “What about you?” She was amazed at how easily she could play this game.

  “I’m easy. Although a good long session on a Sunday morning never hurt anyone.”

  “No, I suppose it didn’t.” Her cheeks were definitely growing warm. She wasn’t prepared for this. Nor was she prepared for the butterflies in her stomach fluttering big time. If Mason was here in her room she’d have a hard time keeping her hands off of him.

  “Favorite position?” he asked.

  Regan rolled her eyes. “We don’t know each other that well.”

  “Fine, but if we get married, we’re going to get to know each other awfully well.” He leaned his elbows on the table. “No time like the present.”

  “You’re unbelievable.”

  Mason shot her a cocky grin. “So I’ve been told. Now fess up. What position?”

  Regan squirmed in her seat. “I like different ones for different things.”

  “Hmm, that’s a cop-out, but I’ll give it to you because I feel the same. On top is good for some things, on bottom is good for others.”

  Regan couldn’t help picturing some of the possibilities.

  “Have you ever done it outside?” he persisted.

  “No. This is the city. There are people everywhere.”

  “We’ll take care of that.”

  “You’re not only unbelievable, you’re outrageous, too.”

  “It’s part of the job description. Our first day at the Hall we’ll head down to the creek. The sun will shine down on us and the birds will sing and the breeze will blow over your body…”

  Regan’s body felt like it could use a breeze blowing on it. She was overheating just thinking about that scenario. Mason’s T-shirt stretched over a broad chest and his biceps were mesmerizing. The thought of those arms around her—that body close to hers—

  “I thought we agreed I wasn’t on your candidate list.” Time to bring things back to reality.

  He stopped fooling around. “I never agreed to that.”

  “I’m building a consulting business, you know. Here in New York.”

  He searched her face through the screen. “Regan. I feel something for you. I know we’ve only met online and on the phone and on Skype, but I definitely feel something. Neither one of us has to make a decision right now but I want to keep talking to you. I want to meet you when I get home.”

  Regan stilled. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Her mouth was dry. He wasn’t serious, was he? His home was Montana. They’d never meet in real life.

  “I think it’s a great idea.”

  “Do you realize we’ve known each other less than a week?”

  “What’s the next question?”

  She acknowledged the evasion by raising her eyebrow, but picked up her sheet of paper, willing to be distracted. “How much time will you spend with your in-laws?”

  “What are your folks like?”

  “Pretty normal,” she said, glad for this safer topic of conversation. “Like I said, they both still work. They plan to retire in about five years. They dote on my sister’s kids from far away. They’d come to visit us when they could, especially when we started having children. My dad will drive you crazy with his inventions. His motto is, why do something the old way when you can think of a new way that’s twice as complicated? My mom will just feed you too much and force you to play—what are you smiling at?”

  Mason had been grinning since about halfway through her description. “You said when we have kids. I knew you liked me.”

  “I meant it in a general sense,” she protested, but he was right. She had slipped up.

  “Your parents sound fine.”

  “I think they are.”

  “Well, my father is gone, like I said. My mom is a sweetheart. And my three brothers—well, I hope you’ll like them. Like I said, they’ll live with us on the ranch.”

  “In the Hall?”

  “We haven’t worked that part out yet,” he admitted. “Would that bother you?”

  “Eight grownups in one house? I don’t know. I guess it would be like living in a small apartment building.”

  “It is a big house.”

  “How many kitchens does it have?”

  “One.”

  She made a face.

  “I guess that could be a problem,” Mason admitted.

  “Unless one of your brothers marries Julia Child. In which case it’ll be great,” Regan said.

  “Maybe we should go back to that sex question.”

  She laughed. “I thought you couldn’t talk until tomorrow,” she reminded him.

  “Yeah, I’m going to have to leave in a minute.” He checked his watch. “One more question. Real quick.”

  “Oh, this is a fun one,” Regan said, rolling her eyes. “Chores. How would you divide them?”

  “Well, that’s easy,” Mason said, sitting back and lacing his fingers behind his neck. “I do the outdoor ones and you do the inside ones.”

  “Sexist creep.” She mimicked his stance.

  “You want to muck out the horse stalls?”

  “Not really,” she admitted, dropping her arms down again.

  “How about this? We buy a case of beer, pack a picnic lunch, drive somewhere lonely where we can see the sunset, pile a bunch of blankets and pillows into the back of my truck and get naked.”

  “And then sort out the chores?” she asked.

  “Well, I was thinking we’d make love, but sure, we can do that, too.”

  She dropped her head into her hands.

  “Sorry, honey,” he said, his voice dropping in volume as he bent nearer to the screen. “You’re beautiful, you know that? I can’t help where my mind goes. We can figure all this stuff out when we need to, don’t you think?”

  She warmed at his words but reminded herself she wasn’t supposed to be on his list of likely wives. “Have you been forwarding these questions to the other women? What are their responses like?”

  He shrugged. “I haven’t read them.”

  “Well, there’s your homework,” Regan said. “Read through all the answers so far and narrow down the ten to five. Then you can tell me about them tomorrow.”

  “And I suppose you’ll ask me more questions.”

  “Yes. We have five more to go.”

  “Halfway there,” Mason said, “and neither of us has filed for divorce yet.”

  “That’s because we’re not getting married.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.” Mason signed off.

  Chapter Eight

  ‡

  “I don’t think this is going to work,” Zane said several hours later. All four brothers were online. Austin and Colt were nodding their heads in agreement.

  “I na
rrowed it down to eight,” Austin said, “but those are eight women I’d maybe date. Not eight I want to marry. Until I see them I don’t see how I’m supposed to pick.”

  “I’ll send you some questions to ask them,” Mason said. “You’d be surprised how well it weeds them out.”

  “What kind of questions?” Zane said. “Like what’s their favorite color?”

  “No, like how do they want to divide the chores, and how often do they expect you to visit your in-laws.”

  All three of his brothers went silent. “What the hell kind of questions are those?” Colt said finally. “That sounds boring as all get out.”

  “They’re not boring, they’re real,” Mason said. “Any yahoo can get married. It takes smarts to stay married. Part of that is really getting to know a woman before you get engaged.”

  “Know what?” Colt said. “I want to be a part of this even less than I wanted at the start. This isn’t the way you find a wife. You find a wife by dating as many women as you can until you find the one you don’t want to break up with. You don’t plan it all out, you don’t sift through e-mails. This is stupid, Mason. Count me out.”

  “I have to agree with him,” Zane said. “It was kind of fun reading through the e-mails at first, thinking about all these women who want to be with me, but then it got creepy. A lot of these women have got real problems.”

  “So get rid of those,” Mason said. “Just focus on the ones that seem like a better match.”

  “Why are you so into this?” Austin said.

  “Because in case you forgot, our inheriting the ranch depends on it. It’s easy for you guys—you have a whole year to get married before the deadline hits. I’ve got to marry someone and get her pregnant just about as soon as I touch down on US soil. That’s a bit of pressure. So unlike you cry-babies, I’m taking it seriously. But we’re either in this together or we’re not. There’s no sense in me doing this if you three are going to wimp out. So are you in or out?”

  “I’m in,” Austin said. “I just don’t think this is the way I want to go about it.”

  “I’m in, too,” Zane said, “but I agree with Austin. I’ll do it my way.”