“Clara!” I shouted her name. Why would she do this? I rushed down the hallway towards the kitchen. I could hear her in there. She was cooking.
When I got there though, I didn’t see her. I saw Michael frying something in a pan. He turned to look at me. He’d taken off his jacket, rolled his shirt sleeves up and had my apron tied around his waist.
“You’re home!” he exclaimed.
My keys dropped from my hand. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?” I murmured. I could barely get the words out.
Michael was smiling. He brought the sizzling pan over to the kitchen table. It was set for two, with a luscious rose bouquet centerpiece sitting there. He flipped the battered fish on one plate and then the other.
“Clara let me in. She had a key,” he told me. His green eyes were sparkling, his dark hair falling boyishly on his forehead. Michael, as always, was completely irresistible.
“Clara let you in?” I found that hard to believe. She kept my phone with her because she didn’t want me speaking to him. How had he convinced her to change her mind?!
Michael returned the pan to the sink and brought over the salad bowl to the table. “Aria, will you please sit down with me so we can talk?” he asked.
My cheeks were flushed. I didn’t know what I was feeling. I didn’t want to slip up and fall again. Not when I’d managed to convince myself to let him go. I started backing away from him, trying to escape.
Michael stood staring at me. There was a longing in his eyes. I knew he wasn’t going to be forceful, but I could see the look of desperation on his face.
“Aria, I just want us to talk things through. Before you make any new decisions. Can we do that? Can we just have dinner together? I got this recipe from my mom.” Michael smiled nervously.
I shook my head, my nostrils flared . . . I was trying to control my mixture of rage and relief in seeing him. “I can’t be here right now. You shouldn’t be here! I’ve made my decision already!” I declared.
Michael pulled out a chair and sat at the table. “I’ll wait here for you till you’re ready to talk to me. I refuse to let you walk out of my life without giving me one more chance. I won’t have it!” Michael said. His face was firm. He was determined.
I could just leave. I could just run from the apartment and go to Suzy. How many more chances was I supposed to give him?
***
When I sat down at the table, Michael looked relieved. I didn’t know why I was doing it. It went against all my common sense.
“I don’t know what else you can say to me, Michael,” I said softly. I didn’t want to meet his eyes. I was afraid of falling for him again. I could already feel a tightness in my belly. I was weakening.
“For starters, I had no idea it was your birthday yesterday. Either way, I should have been there after I gave you my word that I would,” Michael said.
I looked down at the fish on my plate. I had no appetite. I couldn’t eat, not when I was feeling this way.
“I should have been there to celebrate with you and your friends. I know that I put my work ahead of you . . . ahead of us, but that is the last time it will happen,” Michael continued.
I jerked my head up to look at him. “I don’t know what you think is going to happen now, but I’ve handed in my resignation to your office already,” I said.
Michael clenched his jaws and nodded. “That’s good, because I don’t want you to be my secretary anymore,” he replied and my heart sank. “You are so much more to me, Aria,” he added.
I felt hot tears pricking the backs of my eyelids. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m leaving,” I said.
“That’s okay. I’ll find a new secretary, I’ll make it work. I don’t want you to be in my office, I don’t want to hide it from people. I should be able to flaunt you. We should be able to do things as a couple,” Michael continued.
I shook my head. “I’m not just leaving the job, Michael. I’m leaving Chicago,” I said.
I could see now that Clara hadn’t told him about the new job. His eyes grew wide. He looked confused. “What are you talking about, Aria? How can you leave Chicago now?” he asked.
I stood up from the chair. “Because nothing matters anymore. I can’t be here in the same city as you . . . ”
“But we’re . . . ”
“Not anymore. I made it very clear to you, Michael. I don’t want to be hurt again. After last night, I know that you can’t help yourself. You can’t give me what I want. We can’t be together,” I said and turned away from him. I couldn’t look into his eyes anymore. I knew I was going to break into tears if I did. The worst thing right would have been for him to see how weak I was for him.
“Aria, please don’t say that.” He rushed towards me but stopped in his tracks at the last moment. He wasn’t going to touch me if I didn’t want to be held by him. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“Lake Geneva. It’s a small town. It’s the kind of place I always wanted to live in,” I said.
I could sense him standing behind me. I could feel his warmth close to me, but we weren’t touching. The truth was that there was nothing I wanted more than to be touched by him.
“You’re moving to Wisconsin?” he asked, and I didn’t reply. How did it matter where I was moving? The important thing was that I was leaving Chicago.
“Then I’ll go with you.”
I gasped, whipping around to face him. He was lying! He didn’t actually mean it, just like he didn’t mean any of those things he said to me at his home.
Michael was staring at me, peering into my eyes. I could see he was itching to touch me too.
“Aria, there is nothing more important to me than to make this relationship work. I can’t lose you. I’ll be lost if you leave me now.” His voice was deep but soft. I never thought I’d see him like this . . . Michael was incapable of this kind of emotion!
I opened my mouth to speak, but he stepped up to me, silencing me. I had to crane my neck to look up at him. My breasts were heaving wildly, my breaths ragged.
“I’ll go to Lake Geneva with you. I’m done here. I’ve achieved everything I could achieve. I’m exhausted,” Michael said. He wasn’t lying, I could see the exhaustion in his eyes.
“I don’t know how to trust you, Michael,” I murmured.
He pinched my chin, angling my face up towards his so he could look into my eyes. “Give me one more chance, Aria. Let me win your trust back. Allow me to show you that I can change. I will change. This was not the person I was when I was growing up. This city, this work . . . made me into this monster.” Michael sounded desperate as he spoke.
I lifted up a finger, placing it on his lips. “You are not a monster, Michael. You just don’t know what you want,” I said.
He leaned his face towards me, our lips were just inches apart. “I know now. I want you. I want a life with you, and I’ll go wherever you are,” he replied.
When he kissed me, I felt like I would collapse. I was so sure I’d lost him, that there was no hope for us. But there I was, kissing him, in his arms once again. I could feel his heart beating wildly as my breasts pressed up against him. Michael’s kiss was deep and passionate. He held me tightly to him. I was out of breath when I finally pulled my mouth away from his.
“I don’t want you to be afraid of me, Aria. I promise that I will treasure you,” he whispered, kissing the tip of my nose.
I couldn’t control the tears anymore. They were rolling down my cheeks. What was the point in hiding it? He already knew I was like putty in his hands.
“I asked Clara to organize drinks at MacCauley’s tonight,” I heard him say, and I looked up at him, surprised. “I’m sorry we’re going to celebrate your birthday a day late, but I needed an excuse to meet all your friends,” he continued.
There was a smile on his face as he kissed my cheeks softly. I was smiling too. I was in shock. He was willing to move with me. I was skeptical about the future, but right now, I was just happy to be in his
arms. I wouldn’t have traded that feeling for anything.
Epilogue - Aria
Seven Months Later
I sat in front of the mirror in our bedroom. I’d already brushed my red curls to a manageable situation and put on my lip-gloss. I was ready to go. We were going to the local farmer’s market, as we did on most Sundays since we moved to Lake Geneva.
I could hear Michael out on the porch, fixing a loose floorboard on the step. My phone was in my hand. I’d just finished reading an email. I was happy. I realized I was content. I read the email again.
Dear Aria,
I just wanted to write to you to tell you how happy we all are. You and Michael have built a lovely home together and we were delighted to visit you last weekend. Thank you for bringing our son closer to us again. We all look forward to many more of these family visits. Michael’s father and I could not be more proud of him for having chosen such a lovely woman to share his life with.
Take care of yourselves and do visit us soon. We look forward to having you over.
Yours lovingly,
Samantha Sole
It was strange how drastically my life had changed in the past months. I could still remember that day at Michael’s office when I was going through his emails. I’d pictured an older lady writing to her son. I had tried to imagine their faces and how close they were as a family. Last week, I’d witnessed it for myself.
My parents’ divorce and the fact that I hadn’t seen them since suddenly didn’t hurt so much. It felt to me like I had a new family – one that loved me as much as I was growing to love them. Now that I’d met the rest of the Soles, I could see their bond and their love with my own eyes.
Michael belonged here in a town like this. He was meant to be fixing our house and tending to our garden . . . just like his father did. In the past seven months since we moved to Lake Geneva, I had seen a change in him. He was happier, less stressed, and more relaxed in this world.
Even when he sold his company, it didn’t trouble him. I had hoped that it wouldn’t affect him too drastically, giving up the thing he’d build with his own hands. It didn’t. Michael seemed happy to do it. He seemed happy to be giving up the life that had changed him. These days, he worked with small local startups and businesses as a volunteer advisor.
He had already made all the money he would need to last a lifetime. I had my job at the school. His mother was right: we’d built a sweet, comfortable life for ourselves here. What was more there to want?
He opened the door and walked into our bedroom.
“Hey, ready to go? Those mango chutneys will fly off the shelves like last week.” He came up behind me and kissed the top of my head. I looked up at him – at his strong jaw and roughly chiseled features. I would never meet a more handsome man in my life. I knew that now.
“You and your mango chutneys!” I laughed and stood up so I could throw my arms around his neck.
“It’s not for me. It’s for Suzy and Clara. They need to try it!” he exclaimed, hugging me tightly. My best friends were visiting us in two days with plans of spending a long weekend with us. I hadn’t seen them in over three months, and now we had so much to celebrate!
“Are you looking forward to their visit?” Michael asked, kissing my cheeks. My eyes were bright with happiness. How could I explain it all to him? What I’d felt before he came into my life? How he had changed everything by just being there for me?
“I can’t wait!” I exclaimed. Michael looked happy too. He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my fingers, then turned my hand around so he could admire the ring. It was a large teardrop-shaped diamond with sapphires studded around it. The most beautiful ring I’d seen – one he had custom designed and ordered from a celebrity jeweler in France.
When he went down on one knee last week in front of his family and asked me to marry him, I had burst into tears. I hadn’t been expecting it. I had assumed that a man like Michael Sole would need several more months, maybe even years, before he could think of marriage. He’d taken me by surprise. Of course I was going to marry him! Nothing could stop me. He was the man of my dreams . . . of any woman’s dreams. But he belonged to me.
“Do you think they’ve forgiven me now?” he asked. I threw back my head and laughed. It was cute that even after all these months, Michael still worried about what my friends thought of him!
“Yes, Michael. They love you and they’re happy for me. You don’t have to worry about my friends anymore,” I said and kissed him again.
He lifted me up in his arms, carrying me out of the bedroom.
“The only things I worry about are your happiness and the mango chutney,” he replied. We laughed as we left our house. It was going to be the perfect weekend.
*****
THE END
My Cowboy's Mail Order Bride
Description
What do you do when your husband-to-be wants to test you out first? And you have no place to go?
He’s the stuff of women’s fantasies. My fantasies.
I answered an ad in the newspaper and came all the way from New York for him.
So here I am, ready for my cowboy.
He’s devastatingly handsome, but also an arrogant pr*ck.
He doesn’t even seem to notice me or my curves.
I feel naked under his gaze. Like I’m about to faint.
And now he wants to test my worthiness as a wife. To make sure he’s going to be satisfied with me.
I’m about to lose my virginity to a man I don’t even know.
But I’m not backing out. This is a deal. And I’m up to the task.
Two can play this game. Right?
Chapter One
The first sensation that made Isabel realize that she was officially in the South was the blast of sandy hot air she felt on her face when she stepped out of the doors of her train carriage. Surprisingly, it was exactly how she had imagined it to be. Like the old Westerns that she used to watch sitting on her father’s knees as a ten-year-old. That was the image of the South that she had, a romanticized notion based on years of watching cowboy films idolizing shotgun slinging and rugged men in cowboy hats.
And that seemed to be what she got.
Mitchell Town was small, as she had discovered earlier from research she had conducted online. It gave her the impression that it was a forgotten old town, a perfect place to hide away, and it would also fulfill all her dreams of living out in the South. It was something straight out of a Western romance.
The only problem was that it wasn’t very romantic. Answering an ad for a mail order bride – that was not the life she had envisioned for herself. She was a successful fashion editor for a magazine; she had her life all planned out. She even had raised enough money for a down payment on a small studio apartment in Brooklyn.
But then everything changed and she found herself here.
Isabel stood for several seconds on the train station and looked about her. It was like she had traveled back in time. Narrow New York streets, hordes of tourists, the blinking lights of Times Square, millions of colorful stores… They had all been replaced by a vast emptiness, long stretches of sand everywhere she looked. The few people she did happen to see milling about the train station were all dressed in clothes that nobody in Manhattan would be caught dead wearing. Unless it was for a costume party.
Isabel chuckled to herself, tucked in quickly-drying strands of hair behind her ears, and picked up the two massive suitcases she had packed.
She had become a mail order bride. Even though she had answered the ad several weeks ago, she was still not quite prepared for it.
The ad was from a horse breeder: Liam Mayer. There was no picture of him attached to the ad. The only information she had about him was that he was in his late thirties, he owned a ranch, and was raising a ten-year-old daughter named Sophie by himself.
Isabel liked the sound of the ad solely because of how anonymous it would make her. How she could simply arrive and get lost in this
small town with a population of no more than three hundred people. She didn’t know how to be a mother, but Sophie was ten years old. It wouldn’t be like she had to change diapers or sterilize feeding bottles.
Isabel started walking in the direction of the ranch based on the directions that were sent to her by post after she answered the ad. She had been told that nobody would be there at the station to receive her. She hadn’t known what to wear because as much as she had thrived on watching Westerns when she was growing up, this was 2016. She had never been to this part of the country before and had no notion of what people actually wore in such a place.
So she settled on wearing a thin white cotton dress to combat the heat, a pair of high leather boots, and a wide leather hat. A dress like that would not only make her comfortable, but she knew that it was also the best way to camouflage her weight. She was very conscious of it especially when she was meeting people for the first time.
Once she had left the train station and held up the map of directions to match her surroundings, Isabel appeared to be completely alone. It was almost like a ghost town. She dragged the suitcases behind her as she approached what could only have been the High Street in the center of the town. It, too, was empty.
Where is everybody? she thought to herself as she walked past the deserted shops. A barber's shop, a convenience store, a small bank, and two bars. Isabel turned her head to look around and found no one – at least no one was outside. The stores could have been open for business or closed, but not a soul was going to step outside in this heat. And here she was, lugging two suitcases behind her.
It was going to be her wedding day, for heaven’s sake! And nobody had come to greet her at the station. As the heat began to slowly burn Isabel’s back and sweat started to accumulate on her forehead, she also felt a pinch of rage begin to color her cheeks. What kind of rancher was this man? This Liam Mayer who wouldn’t even come to the train station to greet his new bride? Why didn’t he even bother to send his daughter?
My Bossy Protector: A Best Friend’s Brother Romance Page 33
