Mail-Order Brides For Christmas - Frankie Love Page 0,63

to Google. These all sound too good to be true, maybe even sponsored. I’m going to have to find some unbiased reviews somewhere.

Finally, I end up at Reddit, the mecca for honest thoughts and rants. I type “Mail-Order Brides for Christmas” into the search bar and am not disappointed. There’s an entire page dedicated to the site. Surely I’ll get some neutral reviews here.

But as I click through, I find more of the same, more “OMGs” and “I’m soooooo happy!” exhortations. Several women have linked their Instagram accounts, showing off endless photos of their gorgeous husbands and perfect lives. Well, damn. No one ever posts unanimously positive reviews on Reddit. This has to be the real deal.

My eyes widen as I almost scroll past a thread titled “Naughty Secrets.” Who am I to resist naughty secrets? I quickly click on it, and am immediately glad that I did.

“Alright, ladies,” the post reads. “Who else is having the best sex of their lives now that they’ve met their man through MOBfC? I can’t be the only one!”

“The man I was paired with is soooooooo hot,” someone replied. “Like, hotter than any man I’ve met through a dating app. Our first night together he practically ravished me. It was incredible.”

Another reply reads, “The guy I met was so KINKY! He asked if I wanted to be tied up. I never had been but I couldn’t say no! He’s such a kind, thoughtful guy, but so dirty in the bedroom. We’ve even gotten into some roleplay…”

My mouth hangs open as I read through comment after comment detailing incredible, life-altering sex. This Holly Huckleberry must really know how to pick ‘em. The website mentioned something about an extensive interview process with all of the potential husbands, so that only “the most eligible bachelors” are selected. Apparently, one of the factors that makes one “most eligible” is being handsome and virile as hell.

Alright, I’m sold, I think, and close my laptop. I text Sarah: Googled. Fab reviews. Lots of mentions of hot sex.

Hot damn! she texts back immediately. This might finally get you laid after all!

Hardy har har. We’ll see. I’ll text you when I get there tomorrow.

I lie down on my bed, snuggling into my blankets and pillows, relieved to be home if only for a night. I guess I’ll be jetting to middle-of-nowhere Montana tomorrow after all.

Despite my lingering reservations, I begin to daydream about what kind of man I’ll meet. I know he’s a lawyer; that puts a bitter taste in my mouth. But maybe he’s a cool lawyer. Maybe he’s tattooed all over his chest and conceals his ink with crisp button-downs. Maybe he has blonde hair, or dark hair, or red hair that shines gold in the sunlight. Maybe he’s tall and thin, or shorter and jacked, with muscular arms to sweep me away. Maybe he likes reading, or music, or sports. Maybe he has a wicked sense of humor. Maybe he’s wicked in the bedroom…

Before I know it, I’m drifting off to sleep, dreaming of the man I’ll meet in fewer than 24 hours.

Chapter Three

Matt

“You have got to be kidding me,” I say to my smiling mother.

Joy’s grin widens. She isn’t.

It’s rare to get my five brothers and I in the same place; even though we all live in Snow Valley, we all have our own very separate lives. Today, though, we’re all somehow sitting in Mom’s immaculate living room. She still has the power to summon us with a simple text. Important news, she had sent to all of us. Come over at 2pm and I’ll tell you.

It was just cryptic enough to work.

Now though, the mystery is gone, replaced by a truth that sounds too preposterous to believe.

I look around at my younger brothers. Nate and Mason are slack-jawed, as I imagine I am too. Christopher in particular looks like his blue eyes are about to protrude from his head. Hartley is staring at the floor, his arms crossed over his chest. It’s Spencer who finally breaks the silence: he starts to laugh.

“Mom,” he says, shaking his head with a grin. “Hart and I are in our early twenties. You can’t seriously expect us to get married. This is a weird joke, but I admire your sense of humor.”

Joy’s perfectly-placed grin doesn’t falter. “This isn’t a joke, and I’m certainly not kidding. I’m very serious. If you want to save Snow Valley, the six of you need to get married as soon as possible, and I’ve signed