Page 3 of Unwrapped By the Grumpy Mountain Man
“Whoa, Hudson. Come on. This is great news. Be appreciative, would you? You know this is a slow process.” Sanford gives me the same song and dance.
“Really fucking slow,” I toss the pan with the half-cooked steak into the sink. My appetite is gone. “Three years, Sanford. Three years, they’ve had to be around those vile fuckers while Kristy snorts or shoots up whatever they give her. I don’t even want to know where the hell she’s getting the money to pay for that. Sure as hell isn’t getting it for free by screwing Psycho.”
“Breathe, Wilder, my man. I hear you. But we didn’t get to start with you being squeaky clean. We had to do a lot of backpedaling to get you looking like the better option,” he says.
“I’m the only option! They’re being locked in their rooms, Sanford. I had to listen to my baby girls on the phone, whispering because they didn’t want to upset their mother, who was moaning in the other fucking bedroom.”
My throat closes up as fire builds in my eyes. My vision blurs, but I rub the heel of my palm into each, refusing to let this emotion run over.
Sanford’s voice quiets. “I hear you, Hudson. I’m so fucking sorry they have to go through that. I swear, we’re going to get your girls home to you, where they belong.”
I didn’t know whether to trust him when I first met him. Looked like every other sleazy city lawyer I’ve seen. Kristy’s lawyer is a damn clown, but he knows what he’s doing. With time, Sanford grew on me, and I believe he gives a shit. He’s met the girls before. He saw our dynamic, how much I love them, and would literally bleed for them.
“Listen, I wasn’t going to bring this up unless I absolutely believed we didn’t have another option,” he says ominously.
I walk over to the couch and sink my body into the plush, beige cushion. “I’ll do anything. You know that,” I tell him.
“Don’t make promises you won’t keep. Hear what I’m about to suggest first.” There’s a smirk of humor in his tone. Sometimes, I swear, I want to ride all the way over to Portland and kick his smug ass, just to keep him humble.
“Just fucking say it,” I grumble.
“It’s going to sound crazy, but this could be the push we need to win and get the girls.” He leads but pauses for effect.
I roll my eyes, waiting.
“You need a wife, Wilder. The sooner the better.”
I stare at the lit fireplace, watching the orange tips dance. “The fuck you say?” Surely, I heard wrong.
“A respectable one to live in that big, beautiful house you built,” Sanford states. “She can be a career woman, but ideally, she needs to be available to be with the girls when you’re at work. She can have her own at-home business. The five of you, living the small-town mountain life as a family. We’ll close the year with a win. I guarantee it,” Sanford says, his enthusiasm growing with each word.
“You can’t guarantee shit, Sanford, and you know it.”
“Don’t be grumpy, Wilder. I’m telling you. This will work.”
I lean over, resting my elbows on my thigh. “And where the hell am I supposed to magically find a woman willing to marry me tomorrow?” He can’t be serious. This is the dumbest idea he’s ever given me. “You clearly need time off. Or I’m not paying you enough, which can’t be right. You’ve been draining me happily these three years.”
“You do pay me well. And I’m perfectly rested and of sound mind so stop deflecting. I hear the exhaustion in your voice. Hear me out,” he bulldozes over my protest.
“Ever After Mountain Match.” That’s it. That’s all he says.
“I don’t follow.”
“It’s an elite Agency,” he says cryptically.
“For what? Damn it, Sanford, stop pussy-footing and be straight with me,” I groan, still feeling the headache that’s now radiating behind my eyes.
“Mail-order bride agency. High-end. Best money can buy. They will find you a legit woman who is willing and wanting to get married.”
The more he explains, the more I determine he must have fallen and hit his head. Or Sanford is drunk.
“Are you serious right now?” I ask. “You’re telling me, such agencies exist?”
“Yeah, Hudson. They’re huge still. Mostly foreign partners, but there are a few exclusive American ones who find citizens who want to be arranged into a marriage.”
“This is absurd. No. Absolutely not,” I stand and pace in front of the fireplace. “You want me to let some company find me a stranger to stay in my home with my girls here. I’m supposed to trust whoever shows up on my door?”
“It’s perfectly safe and legitimate. There’s a very thorough process, including screenings, interviews, and all of this is done beforehand. We won’t have to wait for that. There are already available options you can choose from and decide on this week. The sooner the better, Hudson.”
