His Make-Believe Bride

by Frankie Love

  Except his hand really was on my back. This is real. Really real.

  “Are you sure? Because I don’t know if I’m the girl for you. I think there’s been a mix-up.”

  He smiles with his mouth closed, and—I kid you not—he has dimples. Two of them. And I want to lick them. Badly. Which sounds weird, except I’m the one standing across from him, looking at those luscious indentions, and all I want is to put my tongue—

  OMG, I have got to stop. I blink, look up at him and try to breathe.

  “There’s no mix-up. My mail order bride is coming from Portland, wearing a green scarf.” He pulls at the end of the scarf, unwinding it from my neck. “And that’s you.”

  “Oh.” I nod, feeling my heart pound in my chest. “So. You really were coming for me.” Delta was told to wear a pink scarf, and Amelia has on a blue. There is no mix-up. This man is mine.

  “Oh, I’m coming for you all right.”

  My cheeks burn at his innuendo. How is this my actual life?

  Not knowing how to act in this situation, I stick out my hand. “I’m Everly.”

  His eyes narrow, reacting strangely to my introduction. “Your name is Everly?”

  “Yeah, Everly Matters.”

  He nods, pausing before shrugging again. Must be his signature move.

  “Not for long,” he says.

  “What?” My eyes squint in confusion.

  “Pretty soon you’ll be Mrs. Silas Sutton.”

  “You’re Silas?”

  He gives me a curt nod, then looks at my suitcase. “Is this everything?”

  “No,” I say, pointing behind us to the carousel where two more suitcases are rolling by. “Those are mine too.”

  He grabs them both before they pass us. “Shit, woman, what did you pack?”

  “Books, mostly.” I sold most of my collection to the used bookstore before packing. The fact that I narrowed it down to two suitcases says a lot about my commitment to this marriage. Granted, he wouldn’t understand that. He isn’t the one leaving his entire life to take a chance on love.

  “Okay.” He doesn’t ask any questions about the books, or anything about me. He’s effortless and not at all awkward. Me? I can’t even remember to talk without devoting significant brain energy to the cause. “You got that one?” he asks, pointing to the suitcase next to me.

  I nod, lifting the handle so it can roll behind me. I’m so nervous about wherever we’re going next. I assume it will be his home here in Anchorage.

  Monique only works with extremely wealthy men. I wonder what sort of place it will be. A state of the art condo or an old mansion on the water? I have no clue.

  Also, I’m trying to figure out why Silas would need a mail order bride at all. He is the handsomest man I’ve ever seen and could surely find a wife on his own.

  Then again, we all have our own reasons for things—and right now, I just need to remember to speak in complete sentences and not gawk at Silas’s sex appeal.

  The fact is, leaving this airport is a huge deal. With every step I take, it will be harder to walk away.

  I try to hide my nerves with a smile, but even now I’m scared I’m going to fall over again because Silas just walked ahead of me.

  And that butt of his is seriously going to trip me up.

  Chapter Five

  Silas

  I can’t believe that’s her name, out of all the names in the world.

  Everly was my mother’s maiden name. How freaky is that?

  Speaking of freaky, Everly is seriously freaking out. And, in some ways, I get it. Moving to the middle of the Alaskan wilderness with a stranger is kind of intense, but she signed up for this. She knew that I live in the sticks, that I make my home in a hand-hewn cabin and live off the grid. This life isn’t for everyone, which is why I let Monique get me a wife in the first place.

  And now she’s acting all terrified, walking five steps behind me as we leave the airport, refusing to look me straight in the eye, as if she’s scared I’ll bite.

  Fuck, I won’t bite her here—but later, in the hotel, there are no guarantees.

  “We’re right here,” I tell her, pointing to the Land Cruiser. My truck has been waiting for me, after I landed my plane at the lake about twenty minutes away.

  I grab her suitcase and put it in the back, along with the two I carried out. I have no fucking clue where she plans on putting these books. We don’t exactly have shelving for them at the cabin.

  “Get in,” I tell her. She doesn’t speak, just nods and does as I say. I jump in the driver seat and watch as she hoists herself up into the rig. I guess I could have helped her, but how hard is it to get in a car?

  “You got that?” I ask, not wanting her to think I’m the compete asshole I am.

  “I’m fine.” She pulls her door closed and sits with her tote bag in her lap. She folds her hands, eyes closed. Is she praying? Because I can’t handle a super religious girl. I can’t have someone who’s trying to change me. I was pretty explicit about that with Monique.

  Everly won’t look at me, but I watch her slow inhale and exhale as I start the car.

  “You hungry?” I ask, pulling out of the airport parking lot.

  “Um. Sort of. I mean, yeah.”

  “I figure it’s been a long day for both of us. We could go to the hotel and just get room service, so we don’t have to make small talk with a bunch of people around.”

  She tilts her head and adjusts her glasses. “Hotel?”

  “Yeah, we’re staying down at the Hotel Captain Cook.”

  “Oh. I thought we’d go to your house….”

  “We have to stay here. The courthouse isn’t open now, on a Sunday. We’ll go tomorrow, and then head to my place afterward.”

  “But—” She frowns, then stops. Shakes her head. As if she literally can’t make up her mind about what she wants to say.”

  “What? Just say it.”

  “Why stay at a hotel, though. Why not your house?”

  “We have to take a plane to my place. But we need to go to the courthouse here. And meet with my lawyer, too.”

  “Oh. Okay. I’ve never been to Alaska, so I guess I have a lot to learn.”

  “But you want to be here, right?” I take a hard look at her. I have no interest in taking a woman against her will.

  “I do.”

  She doesn’t offer anything more, so neither do I.

  We drive in silence for the fifteen minutes it takes to get to the hotel, and damn, I thought I was a man of few words. This girl is clammed up and scared as a mouse.

  We check in with the valet, and I grab my bag from the backseat.

  “You need all these suitcases for one night?”

  “No, just the small one,” she says, and I get it for her.

  A few minutes later we’re in the elevator going to the penthouse suite. Standing outside the hotel room door, I swipe the keycard and hold open the door for her.

  She doesn’t move.

  “What’s the problem? You don’t want to come in here with me?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then what?” I don’t like standing outside the hotel room door as if I have to beg this girl to come inside with me.

  “I’ve never been in a hotel with a man before.”

  “Fuck, Everly—if we’re doing this you better get used to having a man around.”

  “I know.” She huffs, hoists her bag on her shoulder, and walks into the room. Not looking up at me, not adding any relevant facts. Just walks into the suite.

  Damn … she’s never been in a hotel room with a man. Does that mean she’s never been with a man at all?

  Because, hell—if that’s the case, Monique needs a motherfucking raise.

  Everly is already scared and overwhelmed; the last thing I want to do is chase her away.

  I set her suitcase down and toss my bag on the king-sized bed. I figure I need to get to know this girl. But she stands, looking out the window, her back to me.
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  Damn, she has a nice, round ass. She has playful curves, a strong body. I love a woman like that, with some meat on her bones, something I can really sink my teeth into. My goddamn cock twitches again, and my eyes are set on that bed.

  “Everly?” I come up behind her, but stay a few feet away. At my cabin, I hunt for all my food, and I know when to stay back, so as not to scare an animal away. Everly is no different. A sudden movement from me, and she might run out that door, skittish as a doe. “Let’s get some food. I’m starving.”

  The penthouse is large. A dining room table for two, a living room set and television. A bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub, and that massive bed. Fuck, it’s bigger than my cabin.

  I pick up the room service menu and sit on the couch. My boots are filthy and I take them off before propping my feet up on the coffee table.

  “You going to sit down and pick something to order?”

  She sits next to me, and I swear she’s shaking. Terrified. It makes me feel like shit. Am I really that scary?

  “What do you like?” I ask. “I’m having a cheeseburger and fries. Hell, maybe two burgers. I haven’t eaten all day.” I’m usually a steak and potatoes guy, but damn, when I’m in the city I can’t pass up the chance for fried food.

  “A burger sounds fine.”

  I nod, then place the order. “And a bottle of red wine and a bucket of beers,” I tell the restaurant.

  Hanging up, I realize I know nothing about Everly, and that needs to change. One look at her in the airport, catching her from a fall, made me want to take care of her.

  Right now, she needs some good old-fashioned loving. And I’m the man to give that to her.

  I’ll feed her, then I’ll strip her. Then I’ll claim her as mine.

  Chapter Six

  Everly

  After Silas orders the food, I feel the pressure mounting. His eyes rake over my body as if he sees me as something he wants. Something he needs.

  What if he tries to make a move, tries to kiss me? I know in theory that’s what I am preparing to do with him … and a hell of a lot more. But actually doing it, going all-in with him?

  Extracting myself from the couch before I hyperventilate, I go to the bathroom to call Delta or Amelia. I can’t remember how long their connecting flights were, but maybe in the last ninety minutes one of them has landed and can talk.

  I dial Delta first, but it goes straight to voicemail. As the phone rings for Amelia, I turn on the faucet and the fan so Silas can’t hear me.

  “Everly? Is everything okay?” Amelia asks.

  “It’s fine. I mean, I’m in the bathroom whispering right now, but he isn’t like a freaky murderer or anything. But listen, are you okay?” I may be on the verge of a meltdown, but I’m equally worried about my friends and their husbands-to-be.

  “Well, I just landed and I’m waiting for my guy. He’s late to meet his wife. Is that a bad sign?” she asks. “I feel like it’s a bad sign.”

  “No. I mean, it could be a million things,” I assure her.

  “I’m sure you’re right. But I’m guessing I won’t have cell service wherever I’m going. The guy I sat next to on the flight literally laughed at me when I asked if there was a Starbucks at the airport we were flying into.”

  “There isn’t one?”

  “There’s nothing. Like, there isn’t even a terminal. Which is sort of terrifying, but … I mean, it’s an adventure. And Derrick can suck it for screwing me over.”

  The edge in her voice, and the fact that she’s mentioning her ex the same day she’s meeting her husband, doesn’t sit well.

  “Honey, honestly, I’ll be fine,” she says. “I wanted this. But are you okay, Everly? Is your man nice?”

  “He seems nice. And he’s being a gentleman. We’re waiting for room service. Apparently we have to take a plane to get to his place after we go to the courthouse tomorrow.”

  “I think everyone take planes to get around in Alaska.”

  “Yeah, I think we probably should have done a bit more Googling before we came.” I sigh, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet. “But whether or not he’s nice isn’t my problem.”

  “What’s the problem then?”

  “Amelia … he’s so handsome.”

  I hear her laugh, covering her mouth, and then she gives me a giant awwwww. “Sweetie, just be yourself. You’re the best girl I know, so helpful, always looking out for Delta and me, and this guy is lucky to have you.”

  “I don’t know. His name’s Silas, and he looks like a male model. I feel so fat and dumb, and then I ordered a cheeseburger for dinner. I should have gotten, like, a side salad.”

  “Girl, shut your face. You are gorgeous. Have fun tonight. Make it a night you’ll never forget, not a night you want to erase. Have a few glasses of champagne and be silly. Don’t take it so seriously.”

  “It’s my life, Amelia. This is serious.”

  “You say you can’t write a novel because you haven’t lived life? Well, here’s your first chapter, honey. Do something insane. Like, take off your clothes and walk out of the bathroom and ask if he wants dessert before dinner.”

  “I could never do that.”

  “A few weeks ago, did you ever imagine that you’d be getting married tomorrow?”

  “No….”

  “That tells me you’re braver than you think.”

  “Do you really think taking off my clothes and just being like, hey baby, is a good idea?”

  “Is he really as hot as you say?”

  “He’s hotter than Jon Snow and Channing Tatum combined.”

  “That’s a really weird combination, but, um, I’ll go with it,” Amelia says. “If he’s that hot, Everly, than go take what you want. I mean, you’re going to be his wife, might as well show him what kind of girl you are.”

  I roll my eyes. It was a bad idea to call her. She doesn’t get it, doesn’t get how hard this feels.

  “I’m a virginal book-nerd, Amelia. That’s what kind of girl I am.”

  She sighs. “You’ve read enough romance novels to know guys love virgins. What else do they love?”

  “They love girls who let them take the reins.”

  “Good. Because, honey, you don’t have a plethora of experience. Let him show you. He’ll like that. Oh, shit. I think my husband is here.”

  “Do you see him?”

  “Just a truck. Okay. I love you. Go have sex. I’m going to go meet my man.”

  I hang up the phone and turn off the faucet. I hear room service delivering our meal, and think through my next move.

  If I strip now, the food is going to get cold and it seemed like Silas was really hungry. I mean, he ordered two bacon cheeseburgers.

  I’ll get naked after we eat. Yes. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll have a glass of wine and relax, and then get silly just like Amelia suggested.

  Stepping out of the bathroom, I feel my eyes widen as I take Silas in. My mouth goes dry, my core tightens. He’s taken off his shirt, revealing the firmest set of washboard abs I’ve ever seen. He’s in a pair of low-slung jeans, and the V at his pelvis causes my eyes to linger on the bulge in his pants.

  Oh, lordy. I don’t want that cheeseburger in my mouth anymore.

  I want something else entirely.

  Chapter Seven

  Silas

  Clearly she went in the bathroom to make a phone call, and I get it. She’s overwhelmed, and I need to give her time. But I also want to give her something else.

  She stands frozen in the bathroom doorway.

  “You okay?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Dinner’s here.”

  “You took off your shirt.” After she says it she bites her lip. Hangs her head. Turns beet red.

  I laugh. This girl is sexually repressed or something, and I need to help ease her out of her comfort zone.

  “We’re going to play a game,” I say, walking toward her.

  “We are?” she asks, lifting her head.

  “Yeah, and maybe when w
e finish playing you won’t be so scared.” I close the gap between us, our bodies inches from touching. I lean down, exhaling softly in her ear.

  She takes a deep breath. “What’s the game?” she whispers.

  I press my mouth against her ear. “Twenty Questions.”

  The rise of her chest makes me hard. I can see the outline of her nipples through her cotton shirt, and I want to press my mouth against them, too. But I pull back, knowing a little Q & A is what Everly needs to feel at ease.

  “Sit and eat, and we’ll play our game.”

  She follows my lead and we begin our meal.

  “Question one: how old are you?” I ask.

  “Twenty-two. You?”

  “Twenty-seven.” I pop open a can of beer, and take a swig. Damn, I realize, there are a lot of questions I want to ask her. “Where are you from?”

  “Portland, Oregon. Just graduated college a few weeks ago.” She dips a fry in some ketchup and I watch her open her mouth and take a bite. Her lips are full and pouty. I want to devour that mouth of hers.

  But right now I’ve got her talking. Easy questions are doing the trick. “You ever been to Alaska?”

  She shakes her head. “Not once.”

  “Favorite movie?”

  “Pride and Prejudice. The BBC version. You?”

  Figures, since she has all those books, that she’d pick a chick-flick.

  “The Godfather.” I pour her a glass of wine and then hand it to her. “Red or white?”

  “Red.” She smiles, taking the glass from me.

  Oh, look, she’s loosening up.

  “Who were you talking to in the bathroom?”

  She chokes on her wine, but quickly recovers. “Um. My friend.”

  A friend? What the fuck kind of answer was that? Does she have some guy that Monique didn’t know about?

  “You have a man waiting for you somewhere?” I know my words betray me, but the idea of Everly having anyone else fucking pisses me off. I never think of myself as a jealous man, but fuck, my blood boils at the thought of anther man’s hands over her curves, on the small of her back. Of another man whispering anything in her ear.