A Wise Investment: Arranged Marriage Romance

by Rocklyn Ryder

  "I'm older now than you were when you met Mel," I point out, "This isn't some hair brained scheme I just came up with, I've had this website bookmarked since long before I came into the money. I just couldn't afford Raven-- she's top notch, not another professional in the match making field that does it the way she does or has her success rate. Believe me, man, I've done the research. I know what I'm doing."

  Rogue looks over the printed email a little more carefully than he's been doing and sighs, "Let me run it by Mel when I get home," he tells me, "if you're sure you're serious, we'll help ya out."

  Dorthy

  The girls are on board, my sister is not. I'm not letting that kill my plans though. My nieces my be young and no where near ready to settle down yet, but they know me better than any of my other family members.

  I also have my best friend and her husband helping out, so I've got a good balance of people who know me well and people with their own wisdom and experience to understand what goes into to a good marriage.

  Now all I have to do is wait for them to tell me who my new husband is.

  That is turning out to be the hardest part of this whole operation.

  Shortly after Andrew dumped me over the phone for some bimbo that can't even tie her own shoelaces without his help, and my sister's entirely unsympathetic advise about not being in such a hurry to find a husband and start my own family, I found Raven Swann's website.

  Holy cow! A real, live match maker that actually makes matches-- not just some over-priced, glorified dating service!

  OK. Maybe over-priced.

  Then again, if she can really deliver on a husband? Worth every penny.

  The problem is that Raven doesn't just take my info and my money and come back with Prince Charming, it's a really involved process. It took months of interviews with her and her assistant before she even got around to the point where she was ready to work with my "team."

  Oh yeah. My "team." A handful of the people I trust to choose my husband for me, because Raven isn't just a match maker-- she does arranged marriages. Which is where my sister bailed on me with a disgusted grunt and my nieces rolled their eyes and made fun of me for a solid 20 minutes before jumping on board with Ron and Kelly.

  "OK, but Dorthy," Number 1 niece, Jasmine, starts in as she goes over the criteria for choosing a match for me, "you are kinda over the top, you know."

  They keep telling me this, "I have no idea what that means," I answer.

  "It means you're..." Number 2 niece, Rebecca, looks toward her older sister for help.

  "Um," Jasmine falters, "You're kind of overbearing."

  "Yeah, Aunt Doe," Becca says, "You're kind of intimidating."

  I snort, "If a man is intimidated by a confident woman, he's pathetic."

  We've been discussing the reasons why my relationships haven't worked out. The girls keep telling me that I need to back off some. That I'm too independent and that I don't let men take care of me enough.

  "I don't need a man to take care of me," I tell them, "I need a man to love me."

  Becca goes back to the information in her email about what Raven requires of them with a shake of her head, "This is going to be hard," she mutters to her sister as if I'm not in the room.

  "Word." Is all Jasmine has to say.

  "Hey! I'm right here, you know," I say, "I can hear you."

  "Fine, Doe, hear us," Jasmine scoffs, "you haven't heard anything we've been telling you for the last 5 years about dating."

  How can the girls be so much better with men than I am? They're 6 and 8 years younger than me. I should be the one giving them advice, not the other way around. But this is the way it's always been. They've been my dating gurus since they were in high school.

  Not that their advice has done me much good.

  Maybe it'd be different if I actually took any of it.

  I throw one of the pillows from the sofa at Jasmine and the girls laugh.

  "This is serious," I remind them, "I don't need a date to prom, I'm looking for a husband. Happily ever after shit, you guys got that?"

  "Yup," Becca says, her head still down over her phone, "Clingy mama's boy with self esteem issues seeking overbearing, pistol packing mama. We know exactly what to look for in a guy for you, Aunt Dorthy."

  I look around for another pillow to throw at my younger niece, but they've all made their way across the room at this point.

  "NOT!" I try to yell, but we're all laughing too hard, "I want a man! A real man! Who can handle a real woman without his penis shriveling up and crawling inside!"

  "Oh Em Gee! You did not just say that!" Becca's laughing so hard now she's fallen on the floor.

  "Bex," Jasmine takes on of the pillows I've thrown at her and hits her sister with it, "how long have you known Aunt Dorthy? You should know better than to be shocked by anything she says!"

  It's true. There's less age difference between me and my nieces than there is between me and my sister. I baby sat them when I was in high school and by the time they got into their teens they realized I was more of a friend than a "grown up." They're comfortable telling me anything, but that means they have to put up with whatever comes out of my mouth too!

  Jasmine's a little older than her sister, she almost never refers to me as "Aunt" Dorthy, and she's a lot more comfortable with hearing me talk trash. Becca still cringes. But we do have fun together.

  "OK, Aunt Dorthy," Rebecca says as she gets up off the floor, "we get it. We'll find the right guy for you."

  My nieces gather their things and I walk them to the door.

  "I know you will," I tell her with a hug, "You guys know exactly what I'm looking for." I give Jasmine a hug too and try not to tear up as I watch them walk out to their car.

  I can't believe I'm really doing this, I think as I close the door after they drive off. I'm going to get married. Finally. To a man who wants to get married too. To me.

  The thought is a little overwhelming, but it's also exciting. No more hit and miss first dates. No more jerks who are looking for helpless bimbos. Between Raven and my team, they are going to find me a real man. Someone who's strong enough to handle a woman who can handle herself.

  Someone who's going to love me for me.

  I don't know if I'm more excited or relieved by that, but I can't wait to meet my husband. I just hope it doesn't take them too long to pick him out.

  Bear

  I'm too nervous to even fly down and get her myself.

  Since Rogue and Mel have the new baby at home, we sent Lucas down to Juneau to pick up my new bride.

  "I'm sorry, Bear," Melissa says to me sympathetically as I pace the living room floor of her and Rogue's home, "I was really hoping at least one of us could go when we picked her up."

  Jackson and Pilot run through the room in a blur of holy terror and I can't tell if the boys are fighting or playing. Mel doesn't pay them much mind, so I figure whatever their yelling about is par for the course around this place.

  "I know," I volunteer to take little Tundra from Mel and she gratefully takes me up on the offer so she can wash down the high chair.

  "Hey Tuna baby," I coo at Mel and Rogue's 5 month old daughter. She's my favorite. Of course, she's also a baby and she thinks I'm the best thing in the world. I let her grab hold of my whiskers and pull as hard as she wants.

  "Bear, we are not calling her 'Tuna'," Mel playfully scolds me from the sink.

  "Well what kind of nickname goes with 'Tundra' then?"

  I guess it's no surprise that a guy named "Rogue" would end up with a bunch of kids with weirdass names too. I think Jackson was Mel's choice but the boy's middle name is "Wild." "Pilot" only made sense, but "Tundra?"

  I smile down at the 5 month old girl and shake my head at her, letting my nose brush against her soft little baby cheek and enjoying the way she giggles at me.

  "We didn't really think that through," Mel admits sheepishly as she comes back and tries to take the little princess away from me. No such luck, I hoi
st Tuna up high in the air where her mom can't reach her, much to Tuna's delight.

  Nah. I know I can't call her "Tuna" for long. It's a terrible nickname for a girl...unless she turns out to be a hell of an angler, but she's got a long ways to go before she's got enough weight on her to land a tuna.

  "Maybe we could call her 'Tune?'" I suggest as I spin her in a circle.

  Mel laughs at me and Tundra and takes advantage of the opportunity to sit down.

  "So where is your man, anyway?" I ask.

  Rogue wouldn't leave Mel long enough to go fetch my wife for me, so I'm kinda pissed that he isn't in the house with us doting on her like he normally does.

  Melissa gives me an exasperated smile, "I told him we needed diapers and baby wipes."

  "You sent him shopping?"

  She nods, "I had to get him out of here. Bear, you know how he gets, it's been 5 months, Tune and I are good on our own," she says, trying out Tundra's new nickname.

  I reluctantly hand Tuna back to her mom. It's what I've called her since they named her, it's gonna be a hard habit to break.

  Yeah. I know how the boss gets. Every since Mel got pregnant with Jackson, it's the same story. Rogue goes into bodyguard mode. The first time it was cute, even Mel seemed to like it. When Pilot came along, it wasn't too bad. Well, it was bad, but he let up earlier.

  Who knows, maybe it's cuz Tuna's his first girl but it's been almost half a year and Rogue's still hovering.

  "Yeah, he gets a little crazy when you guys have a new little one, doesn't he?"

  Melissa laughs and pokes her head down the hall, turning her ear to listen for the boys. I don't hear a damn thing, but I guess she's satisfied with whatever her mom hearing picks up cuz she nods and smiles and comes back to the living room and sits down.

  "You will too," she tells me with a grin.

  Shaking my head, I sit across from her, "Not like that," I assure her, "the man goes crazy."

  Mel sets Tuna down on a little blanket that's spread out on the floor with a bunch of toys. Tuna's not quite mobile yet, but just about.

  Sitting isn't doing my anxiety any favors so I get down on my hands and knees and join Tuna on the blanket.

  "You might be worse," Melissa tells me with a soft laugh as she watches me play with her daughter.

  All I do is shake my head again. No way.

  My sister has a bunch of kids, they aren't such a mystery.

  I plan on having lot of babies with my new wife-- Dorthy. Her name's Dorthy. Not Dor-o-thy, Dorthy.

  Mel and Rogue say they knew she was the one as soon as they saw her file. Sasha, my sister, says she agreed with them right from the beginning.

  I don't know much about her yet. My mind is a run away train, wondering what it is about her that my entire team is so certain she's the gal for me though.

  Like, is it her looks? Is she tall, with a solid structure? Cuz I'm a big guy, 6 foot 6 in my stocking feet and damn near 300 pounds. All muscle, I pride myself on that, but I'm a big guy.

  That's not why they call me "Bear" though-- it's a nickname my uncle gave me when I was little like Tuna is now. Mom always tells me I'm so big cuz I had to live up to the name.

  I'd like a woman who's built strong. That doesn't feel like she's gonna break when I'm fucking her. Not saying I have to be rough all the time or nothin', but it'd be nice to be able to let go without worrying I'm hurtin' her.

  And can handle the .50 cal or the 12 gauge without landing on her ass every time. Can haul fire wood and move the big rounds to the splitter.

  Shit, life up here is demanding. Just holding the clutch in on the old truck is a bitch-- not something some prissy little city girl is likely to manage.

  Or maybe she's outdoorsy already? Like, maybe she came up in Montana or up in Maine with lots of big game and she's no strangers to harsh winters.

  All I know about my bride to be is that her name is Dorthy. She's 28 years old-- just a year younger than me-- and she's every bit as ready to get married and start making babies as I am.

  Mel and I, and even baby Tuna all turn our heads toward the sound of voices engaged in conversation as the front door opens.

  I recognize Rogue and Luke's voices but there's an unfamiliar female voice chatting easily with them and the sound of her laughter fills my ears like music.

  I look up at Melissa and she beams down at me as she reaches to scoop Tundra off the floor. Mel gives me a little nod and I know that means that the pretty laugh belongs to the girl I get to marry.

  By the time the group comes around the corner, I'm up on my feet trying to smooth down the wrinkles I've put in my dress trousers from crawling all over the floor with the baby, and wiping the sweat off my palms.

  When I look up at the little wisp of a thing standing between Rogue and Lucas, giving me a hard glare, I don't know what to think.

  She's tiny. Barely 5 foot if that and about as big around as my arm. She's got a mess of blonde curls all around her head that just makes her look that much smaller and her face is made of nothing but big blue eyes and soft pink lips.

  Shit.

  She's gorgeous.

  Fragile as a fucking flower, but gorgeous.

  There ain't no way this is the woman they think is meant to be mine and, from the look on her face, she's thinking the same damn thing.

  Dorthy

  Lucas is the pilot that picks me up in Juneau. He's adorable. 23 years old and about 6 foot tall with an easy laugh and a smile that melts my heart...and probably a lot of panties.

  I immediately want to set him up with Jasmine. She would love him.

  We chit chat all the way back to Moose Bend...Moose River...River Moose...damn! I can't remember the name of my new home town. It's Moose something...or something Moose. Or maybe it's not. Maybe it's Caribou Creek...or Crossing.

  Well hell. It's got a critter name in it anyway...and I have the rest of my life to commit it to memory.

  When Lucas touches us down on a runway that's nothing but a big field behind a small metal building he calls "the airport" I can't decide if I'm delighted with the back woodsy charm or terrified that I'm walking into a horror movie.

  I decide to go with delighted.

  Absolutely. Delighted, that's what I am. After all, Luke is a sweetheart-- he couldn't possibly be leading me into a life as a sex slave to an axe murdering cannibal, right?

  At the "airport" we run into another gentleman. Luke introduces Rogue who owns the transport business, and is Lucas's boss.

  Rogue fits his name. He's all rough edges and thick stubble on a face that looks like it was carved from the mountains surrounding us, with piercing blue eyes that crinkle at the corners as soon as he sees me.

  Of course, I know this man! Rogue sweeps me into his arms in a big hug that takes my feet off the ground.

  "I thought you weren't going to be here to pick me up?" I laugh as he sets me back on my feet.

  "Mel kicked me out of the house," he laughs as he grabs my bags and carries them to a big truck, "She told me we needed stuff for the baby, but she really just wanted me out of her hair." He turns to me with a conspiratorial laugh, "This ain't my first rodeo, I know when she wants some space. So I thought I'd come meet you guys down here and drive you back to the house."

  Rogue and his wife are part of Barrett's team. We've been talking for months now.

  When I first met them, Melissa was still pregnant with their daughter. I can't wait to meet the little one.

  We're headed back to Rogue and Mel's place, partially because it made the most sense so they wouldn't have to pack up the kids or get a sitter, and partially because we all agreed that Barrett and I should meet on neutral territory for the first time.

  I feel a lot more comfortable with the idea of having Mel and Rogue there when I meet my fiance for the first time.

  "Hey Luke," Rogue yells over his shoulder at the young pilot that just delivered me to my new home, "We got moose on the grill, you comin' with?"

  I watch the y
ounger man's face light up as he gives Rogue an enthusiastic thumbs up.

  Good, I think, I already feel safe and comfortable with Luke too. It'll be nice to have a big group of friendly faces around when I come face to face with Barrett for the first time.

  Not that I'm nervous or anything.

  The ride out to Rogue and Melissa's home is great. Rogue and I chatter about his new baby girl, Tundra, and I can't help but gawk at the beautiful scenery we're driving through.

  Luke is right behind us and we arrive together, pulling into a big, gravel driveway that makes me understand why all the vehicles parked in it are high clearance 4 wheel drives. I don't think I'll be bringing my Camaro up here.

  The three of us walk into the house laughing like old friends.

  Until I see the man standing next to Melissa.

  Oh boy.

  This can't be right.

  For starters, he's huge.

  I have to stop at that for a second. The man is built like an oak tree. He's got to be 2 feet taller than I am and that's not much of an exaggeration. And thick. He's wearing a pair of khakis that look like they barely fit around his thighs despite the relaxed fit of the pants. He has a t-shirt on that I can just see where his red plaid shirt is open at the collar.

  His face is bearded. Like some serious Grizzly Adams beard going on. I can barely even tell he has a mouth under all that fur. His hair is dark brown and neatly combed, not too long, not too short. Pretty standard guy hair cut.

  But his eyes.

  An involuntary shiver makes its way from the back of my neck, down my spine and into some place that is not having the same reaction to this man that my brain is. At all.

  His eyes are deep brown, and so kind, and boring into me like a laser. I don't need to get any closer to him to see the thick lashes framing those eyes or the faint hint of color rising in the little bit of skin left visible on his cheeks where his beard stops.