Mail-Order Brides For Christmas - Frankie Love Page 0,42

I quit. The first night I came home so drunk that I fell and smashed her favorite vase was the time she saw me get more than a little tipsy at a family event. But I never gave up my vices, not permanently at least. I just learned to hide them better.

I smoke on the back porch so that nobody ever sees me, because in this town, word would get back to my mom pretty damn quick. I keep saying I’m going to quit, but I haven’t yet. There’s beer in the fridge, but what I drink is hidden in the back of the pantry. She doesn’t say too much about alcohol as long as none of us go overboard. She’ll be the first one to tell us to top off our glass as long as everyone is having a good time. I’ll just never be falling down drunk in front of her again.

I’ve done my best to make her believe I’m the reformed black sheep of the family, and it’s true for the most part, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to settle down. I thought I was once. Things didn’t work out. It was for the best, and looking back now, Mom was right when she said Amelia wasn’t the right girl for me.

Real life isn’t as perfect as those Wild West romance novels my mom reads where a hero pops up at the last minute and saves the world so that everyone can live their happily ever after. People don’t fall in love at first sight. Hell, even if they do, there’s a damn good chance they’ll fall out of love before they make it to the altar. That’s exactly what happened with Amelia, and we dodged a bullet that didn’t come from an outlaw’s gun.

I think my mom has been reading so many of those books that she’s decided to live one of her own out right here in Snow Valley. Titan Corporation wants to buy our town and turn it into a tourist hotspot. My mom wants my brothers and me to be the heroes. Pool our money. Buy the town before Titan Corporation can take over. But there’s a twist. There always is. Due to some antiquated law set up by the founder of Snow Valley, the town can’t be sold unless the person buying it is married.

Oh, 1867—you had no idea how time would pass you by. If someone tried to pass a law like that today, they’d get roasted over the open flame of public opinion, and there’s no way in hell it would actually go through.

“Time for a drink…” I mutter to myself as I put out my cigarette.

Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and all of this will be a bad dream.

The brochure is still beside my bed where I left it when I wake up. It wasn’t a dream. Neither is my hangover. Thank God I don’t have to go to work today. I start my coffee, brush my teeth, shower, and by the time I finish my first cup of coffee, I feel like I’m starting to recover from my evening.

Just when I think I might have a peaceful morning, there is a knock at my door, and I look through the window to see my father standing outside.

“Good morning, Dad…” I open the door and take a step back. “Come on in.”

“Hope you’re hungry.” He holds up a bag. “I brought breakfast.”

“Why do I feel like this is a bribe?” I walk over and pour him a cup of coffee as he puts our breakfast on the table.

“Not a bribe. I just wanted to have breakfast with my son.” He chuckles under his breath.

“Yeah?” I hand him a cup of coffee. “How did I win the lottery? There’s six of us. There must be a reason you decided to spend your morning with me.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve brought you breakfast, Nate.” He sits down at the table.

“I know.” I narrow my eyes. “But it’s the first time you’ve brought me breakfast after Mom decided to arrange six weddings.”

“I’ll admit, I thought it was a little crazy when I heard it too.” He nods. “I wanted all of you to live your own lives and spend your money however you pleased.”

“I have no problem buying the town.” I shrug. “I told you that at dinner. I’m in Snow Valley for the long haul. It’s the other part I’m not so sure of.”

“Your Mail-Order Bride is coming whether

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