Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Fletcher Blake has wanted a wife and kids for as long as he can remember when Lloyd told him of his match, he was ecstatic.
Can they fall in love with Florence’s past looming over her? Yeah of course, not only is she a Jorgensen, it’s a ChasShiree & M.K. tale.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Prologue
Florence Jorgensen
The whole way home, I can only think about having a big glass of red wine and taking a long bubble bath after the shift from hell. Being an emergency room nurse at Anchorage General is rewarding but exhausting. I barely make it into my place before the knocking starts. Thank God, I got the door locked. After looking through the peephole and seeing who it is, I pretend not to be home. Surely, he’ll give up and leave, I think as I head into my bedroom, change out of the loner scrubs I’m wearing and into a pair of sweatpants and my Anchorage High Volleyball t-shirt that’s seen better days. When I say I’ve had a bad shift, I mean it. I went through the scrubs I wore out the door this morning and the backup pair in my locker. Fifteen cases of alcohol poisoning means I was wearing a lot of upchuck. Frat parties can certainly get out of control, but fifteen cases at once was a new ER record. I tiptoe back into the living room and grab my phone from my purse.
“Open the fucking door, Florence. I know you’re in there. I fucking watched you come home. Don’t make me break this fucking door down.” I sigh, knowing he’ll do just that. That’s the thing about Gary: he does what he says he’ll do.
“Gary? What are you doing here?” I ask, after opening the door to my apartment. I knew I shouldn’t have opened it, but he just kept banging on the door. The last thing I need is for one of my nosy-ass neighbors to call the cops. Looking back, I should have left his ass out there to get arrested.
“Can’t a man come and see his girl?” he asks, his voice smarmy. It grates on my nerves. It always has.
“I already told you, I’m not your girl.” I didn’t think I’d have to break up with this man more than once, but we’re going on three times now. Gary’s hand snaked around my upper arm so fast, I didn’t have time to react.
“And I told you, you’re mine, Florence. I didn’t waste three years of my life waiting to get that cherry. It’s mine and so are you.”
“You’re delusional,” I say just before he squeezes me tighter. He throws me against the wall, knocking paintings and other pictures from the wall. I hear pounding on the wall, as it’s a shared one. I know Mr. Beatty will call the cops. He calls them for everything. I dodge the punch he throws, but that just pisses him off more. The next thing I know, I’m on the ground, screaming as he kicks and punches me anywhere he can reach. I don’t know how long I lay on the floor, but the next thing I know, a lady cop is standing over me, asking me if I’m okay.
I’m not, and I don’t know how long it will take for me to be okay.
Things happen quickly after that. Gary gets arrested, I press assault charges and get a restraining order, but I already know it will never be enough. My three-day stay in the hospital was just the icing on the cake.
Gary Sanders thinks I’m his and will do everything he can to control me.
I have got to get out of here.
One Month Later
I wait, not so patiently, I might add, to board the flight that will take me to my new life. Growing up in Alaska, I never thought I’d leave, but I really feel like I need to do this. I was adopted as a baby by the best parents anyone could ever ask for. Anders and Paige Jorgensen had a lot of love in their hearts. I was born the same day their son, Arvid, was. My birth mother died two days after I was born due to complications. She was a homeless prostitute and had no family. Needless to say, she didn’t list a father on my birth certificate. The Jorgensens didn’t even hesitate to petition the county to take me home with them. They formally adopted me on my first birthday. Arvid and my little sister, Liv, are my best friends. I can’t imagine my life without my family in it, but when I saw the ad for a mail-order bride, I knew I had to answer it. I can’t explain it. I don’t have the Jorgensen magic everyone in my family seems to have. The magic that draws them to their soulmate, and I’m lonely. I’m twenty-six years old, and I’ve never been in love. I’ve dated and had long-term boyfriends but never felt the magic.
By doing this, I’ve resigned myself to never feeling it, and that’s okay. The other reason is Gary. He still can’t quite get it into his head that we are over and has been stalking me for weeks now. At first, he understood that I vowed to wait to have sex until I was married. As time went on, he became more demanding and less understanding. The first time he put his hands on me, I should have ended it then, but he sweet talked me afterward and I believed him. I knew better, being a nurse, I knew better but I allowed myself to believe his honeyed words. My ribs hurt for days after he kicked me. When I finally got the courage to leave him after a particularly heinous beating, he was livid. To say he went insane would be an understatement. I had to get my cousin, Odger, involved. He’s a judge. He issued a protective order, but Gary violated the damn thing left and right. He took everything from me that day, my virginity included. I can’t exactly say it was rape because I finally agreed to get him to stop hurting me, but I definitely didn’t want him like that. He took something that was supposed to be my husband’s, and that’s what kills me the most. It is antiquated and probably out of place, but I focus on that aspect of it because I refuse to be a victim. He won’t take my future happiness from me. He doesn’t get that part of me.