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

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Novella, Romance Tags Authors: , , ,
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Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
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“Thank you, Jenna,” he whispers, brushing a pink shock of hair away from my face.

“For what?” I ask.

He just smiles and kisses my forehead. “For coming to Snow Valley.”

The pleasure, I must admit, is all mine.

Chapter Seven

Matt

The workday has never passed so slowly.

I should preface this by saying that I love my job. I’ve owned Mistletoe LLP for five years now and we’ve grown to host three other attorneys. It’s a small practice, but Snow Valley is a small town, and we serve our home with pride and precision. Every day, I come to work looking forward to serving my community.

It’s just that today, I’m also looking forward to going home.

I take a long sip from my coffee, looking at the mountains beyond my office window. I still can’t fathom how much my life has changed in the past two weeks. Before Jenna Cook came to town, each day was predictable. I enjoy the comfort of consistency, so I never complained. Now though, every day I wonder what Jenna will say or do to make my life a little bit more interesting. She has that effect.

I should have known when I saw the pink hair and leopard print that she was going to shake things up in Snow Valley. I just didn’t realize that the most shaken of all would be me.

There’s a lull in my work, so I check my phone. A smile tugs at my lips when I see that Jenna texted me.

You excited for tonight? she wrote.

I text back, You have no idea. You dancing with me in a seedy bar? Heaven.

I picture her grinning at my message. She replies in record time: Who said anything about dancing?

That’s what this bar is known for, I type back. Line dancing.

Well, then, she responds, giddy on up!

I shake my head and chuckle. Jenna’s spirit is constantly ebullient. I could suggest any kind of crazy activity and she would be eager to participate. I’m no stick in the mud myself, but I’ve felt even more inspired lately to get out of the house and show Jenna around town.

Although we certainly have plenty of fun in the house, too.

I impatiently check my watch. Twenty minutes to go. I sit down heavily at my desk, feeling an uncomfortable pull across my shoulders as I do. Thankfully Jenna is working on a new suit for me as we speak. I can’t help but wonder what other hidden talents she has. I especially am looking forward to hearing her sing. She hums sometimes, even in her sleep (she switched from the guest room to my room after three nights), but her full voice has yet to come out around me. I’ll have to see if I can coax it out of her.

I look at the organized chaos of my desk, then at my empty coffee cup, and decide that I’m done for the day a little early. I stand up and put my jacket on, then wave at my paralegal as I stroll out the door. Screw it. I’ve got a lady to dance with tonight.

“Honey, I’m home!” I call as I enter the house. It was a silly thing to say the first day she was here, but now I’ve fallen into the routine. Jenna always giggles when she hears it, often offering a playful “Hiya, honey!” back. But today, I hear nothing.

“Jenna?” I hang up my jacket and put my keys in the bowl near the door. Still no response. Quirking a brow, I head upstairs to the bedroom but before I can step inside, the door swings shut in my face.

“I’m not ready yet!” Jenna squeals from the other side of the door. “You’re home too early!”

I laugh and shake my head. “What, you doing some extra primping and preening tonight?”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” she replies. “Go make us a drink and I’ll be done soon.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I respond. I dutifully head back downstairs and wonder what my brothers would say about me being “whipped.” Their own mail order brides haven’t arrived yet, although Nate’s will be here this week. I’m eager to hear what they have to say about the new women in their lives.

For my part, I’ve kept as mum as possible. My mom called the night after Jenna arrived and begged me for details. “What does she look like? Is she nice? Does she come from a good family?” I answered as vaguely as I could. I do, however, want Jenna to meet my family sometime soon, a realization that shocked me when it first dawned. We’ve only known each other for two weeks, and I’m always reluctant to introduce women to my family. Still, something about Jenna is different. Something about her feels… right.

I shake my head at my overly dramatic inner monologue and finish making our cocktails.



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