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

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Novella, Romance Tags Authors: , , ,
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
<<<<566674757677788696>96
Advertisement2


My heart aches for her, and I hold her to my chest again, murmuring reassurance against her silky hair. I can’t imagine how she must be feeling. I don’t have to worry about my career, even though I’m going to be a father. Being unexpectedly thrust into this situation must be terrifying. I wish there was something, anything, I could do.

Then, I know exactly what my plan is.

“Hold on one second,” I say suddenly, pulling away from her so that I can stand. I go to my dresser and rummage around the top drawer for the tiny box hidden there. I picked it up about two weeks ago, confident that even if Jenna wasn’t sure she wanted to marry me, I knew without a doubt that I wanted to marry her. I thought that life in sleepy Snow Valley would always be the same. But Jenna has introduced so much more light, color, and music into my life, and I never want to be without her again.

“Jenna,” I say after taking a deep breath. “I know this must be terrifying for you. God, I’m terrified, too. But no matter what, I want you to know that we’re in this together.” I drop to one knee in front of her, and Jenna gasps, bringing her hands up to her face. “I never thought I’d fall in love with my mail-order bride. But you’re so much more than that to me now. You’re the best person I’ve ever known, and you’re so worthy of happiness. Let me give that to you. Let me give you anything you want.”

Jenna is crying again, now, but smiling so widely that her face must hurt. I’m smiling, too, grinning like an idiot, like a kid who just won first prize at the science fair. I open the ring box, and Jenna gasps at the glimmering diamond inside.

“We’ll figure your career out, sweetheart,” I continue. “There are ways you can still sing and make music, even while being a mother. We’ll figure it all out together. I’ll support you every step of the way. Marry me, Jenna. Will you?”

“Yes,” she breathes. “Oh, my God, Matt. Yes. Let’s be parents together. Let’s take on the world together.” She laughs tearfully. “And let’s save Snow Valley, if your brothers can hurry up and get engaged, too.”

She holds out a trembling hand, and I slip the ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly. Barely able to contain my joy, I stand and pick her up, spinning her around as we both laugh. Everything seems suddenly lighter and brighter, as if the sun has just come up in this room. I feel a warmth spreading throughout my entire body, and realize that it’s joy like I’ve never before experienced.

“That was a damn good proposal,” Jenna whispers as we stand and hold each other. “When did you turn into such a sap, Mr. Bigshot Attorney?”

I grin and kiss the tip of her nose, and she wrinkles her face up, as always. “When I have something to be sappy about. Now, can we hurry up and go to bed to celebrate?”

She giggles and pulls me down onto the mattress, kissing me so sweetly that I could die a happy man right here, right now.

But thank God I’m alive. Our lives together are just beginning, and I have a feeling we have more than a few adventures ahead of us.

Epilogue

Jenna

Snow Valley may sparkle and shine in the winter, but it’s just as beautiful in the early summer. The air is sweet, the sun is bright, and the trees are huge and leafy. Flowers bloom in earnest, scenting the air with their gorgeous perfume.

Let me be the first to tell you--I don’t miss New York City at all with surroundings like this.

The park we’re strolling in is just five minutes from our house. Matt jokes that he wanted to propose to me here, but all plans went out the window when I started bawling my eyes out that fateful day. “I had to rearrange my plans just to get you to stop crying,” he’ll tease, and I always respond by sticking my tongue out at him. Motherhood, I must confess, has not made me much more mature.

“Mama!” My two-year-old, Joy, looks up at me with huge blue eyes. She has something in her hand. I wince, worrying that she plucked something off the dirty ground, but then she presents it with a flourish, and it’s just a bright yellow flower. “Take!”

“My sweet baby!” I coo. “Is that for me?”

“What, Daddy doesn’t get a flower?” Matt, pushing the stroller, asks in mock horror.

“Take!” Joy stamps her tiny purple shoe on the ground. “Mama!”

I laugh and shrug at Matt. “Sorry,” I tell him as I take the proffered blossom and tuck it behind my ear. “Mama wins again.”


Advertisement3

<<<<566674757677788696>96

Advertisement4