Arranging My Bride

“When it’s time to say ‘I do,’ if you don’t want to walk down the aisle, I won’t make you.”

“Really?”

“Of course not, sweetie, but that said, you must spend time with him. That way, you have a legitimate reason to tell me you don’t believe this will work.”

“Okay,” I agree. She gives me a proud smile before she leaves me to get lost in my thoughts.

Would it be so terrible to spend time with both of these men? Then I could see which I might care for more? Men do that all the time, don't they?

A trace of guilt hits me again, but I reason that Felipe has been out there dating anyone or anything for years while I’ve been sitting here waiting to be told who I would marry. It’s not as if he’s some saint.

Even if I’m still confused about his earlier comments. I think he tried to imply he hasn't been out there sleeping with anyone. What else would it mean if I said you reap what you sow and he warned that it better be true. That can’t be right.

My phone vibrates on my nightstand, and a text from my mystery man pops up.

Casanova: Lights out, kitten. It’s time for bed.

Excitement blooms through my whole body. I jump up, rushing over to my bedroom door and flip the lock before I hit the lights and drop my robe. I hop back into bed, getting under the covers, and wait to see what comes.