With This Click, I Thee Wed (Click and Wed.com Series, #1) Read online

  Also by Bonnie R. Paulson

  A Clearwater County Romance

  Spurs and Lace

  Secrets and Lace

  Sorrows and Lace

  Riding for Redemption

  Resisting Redemption

  Regretting Redemption

  Rewarding Redemption

  Redemption Complete Series, Books 1 - 5

  Lonely Lace Box Set, Books 1 - 3

  Clearwater County, Redemption series

  Romancing Redemption

  Click and Wed.com Series

  With This Click, I Thee Wed

  IDo.com

  DIY Vows

  eHoneymoon

  Keyword: I Do (Coming Soon)

  ClickAndWed.com books 1 - 3 Boxset

  Downshift Series

  Downshift

  Full Throttle

  Odds and Evens

  Odd Man Out

  Watch for more at Bonnie R. Paulson’s site.

  Table of Contents

  Also By Bonnie R. Paulson

  With this click, I thee wed

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

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  Further Reading: IDo.com

  Also By Bonnie R. Paulson

  About the Author

  With this click, I thee wed

  Book 1 of the ClickandWed.com Series

  By Bonnie R. Paulson

  http://www.bonniepaulson.com

  Clickandwed.com

  When a lonely divorcee chooses to become an e – mail-order-bride, she has to learn about the importance of decisions and family or lose her shot at love.

  Rachel needs to get out of the rut she’s in and away from the wake of destruction her divorce left behind her.

  Stuck in a town where everyone knows her and her ex-husband, Rachel is distinctly aware of who chose his side – everyone – and who chose her side – no one. Even her hairstylist won’t schedule her.

  But when she finds herself alone with a bottle of chianti and the internet, Rachel stumbles upon Clickandwed.com. The survey is easy and clicking “I Do” seems to be the magic button she’d been searching for.

  Before she could snap out of her decision, she finds herself packed and flying across the country to meet her new husband.

  Would her new life be better or worse than the hell she left behind?

  Chapter 1

  My whole life was a series of “What had I done?” The upcoming year loomed with the same mediocre expectations.

  New Years was a drag when you waited on your parents for dinner. Being alone was never my thing and, there I was, a divorced adult relying on my parents for my New Year’s company. When had I stooped so low? Asking them, their answer would have been something along the lines of, I was born that low.

  I leaned my chin on my hands, my elbow just barely resting on the edge of the table. My mother had decorated her home with an eye toward class and elegance. Well-polished mahogany furniture filled the lower rooms of their California split-level home. A California style home set in a small nowhere-town in Ohio. I snorted at the thought and pushed a stray piece of grated parmesan cheese back into the bowl.

  The loud tick-tocking of the grandfather clock by the front door kept track of the time passing more accurately than I could myself.

  Formal place settings held clear, glass plates filled with steaming chicken Parmigiana smothered in melting mozzarella and parmesan cheeses and buttery, crusty garlic bread. Caesar salad in a China bowl sat beside a pitcher of sparkling lemonade.

  Less and less steam wafted from the plates with each minute that passed by. The lettuce began to wilt alongside my optimism that my parents and I would be celebrating a fun New Year’s Eve together. I wanted so badly for things to be different. Different between them and me, and different for me altogether.

  Success wasn’t a feeling that I was familiar with lately. Everything had fallen around me and my dad’s continuous condescension only compounded my internal pain.

  I picked up my fork at the forty-five-minute mark. A delicious parmigiana should never go to waste. My curves could be attributed to my reliance on food for comfort and the constant need to love others with food.

  Cutting off a bite, I savored the lukewarm flavors of the marinara-covered chicken just as my mom and dad walked through the door. Guiltily, I wiped my mouth with the cloth napkins I’d set out and folded it again into my lap.

  “I called for you guys a while ago. Are you okay?” I was genuinely concerned. If anything, Dad wouldn’t miss food on purpose.

  “We were talking to your sister.” My dad sat down across from me and picked up his fork. He studied his plate, pushing food around like a bully on the playground. He curled his lip, his stubble creating a darker shadow than normal. “Pasta again?”

  I swallowed the taste of dust that his comment left in my mouth. I hadn’t made pasta in over a month.

  My attempts to apologize were cut off by my mother who cut the food into sections and placed them onto a napkin, probably for the dog. “We're going up to your sister’s tonight. We’ll be there a week or more. She invited us up since her husband is going out of town.”

  She spoke as if we didn’t have plans for two months to spend the night together. I’d come back to their place, depressed that I couldn’t make it on my own after my divorce. For the first time in – forever? – she’d wrapped her arms around me and said, “It’s okay. Now we can hang out for fun things like New Year’s and Christmas morning.” Maybe she’d been drinking at the time and confused me with my sister.

  A glimmer of hope was all she’d given me and I’d survived on that since.

  Picking at my thumb cuticle under the table, I furrowed my brow. “Tonight? We had planned on spending the evening together. I got some movies and made caramel popcorn.”

  I don't know why I was disappointed. Treating me like that wasn’t new for them. It’s not like it wasn't something they pulled on me every day for the last twenty-eight years of my life. Some of my friends had come back into town for the holidays and asked me to hang out that night. I’d declined since I’d already had plans.

  At that point, it would be too late to join the friends I’d ditched for my parents.

  With my family, I always came last. The last child of three and my family made sure I knew it. I was the accident, the one they didn't want, and they never failed to rub my excess in my face.

  “We can do that anytime. It’s not like you’re going anywhere. I still can’t believe you gave up marriage to Derek. That guy is going somewhere. He already has so much of the town in his pocket. I wouldn’t be surprised, if one day he was mayor.” My dad shook some pepper and salt onto the salad and scrunched his lips while pushing the soggy croutons to the side of his plate. “It's time for you to get out there and move on. Go to a party or something. Find someone to marry. It’d be nice to have my house back to normal.”

  Dad pointed his fork in Mom’s direction and then at his own chest. “When things got tough when we were younger, I didn’t run to my mommy’s. You sh
ouldn’t get to mooch off us just because you can’t keep your marriage together. If it was up to me, we would’ve told you no, when you asked.” His pointed glance at my mother brought a blush to her cheeks. “I’ve worked for what I have. You had it easy with him.”

  He continued his almost-daily diatribe. “You need to face things when they go wrong. Maybe if you had done something different, Derek wouldn't have left you.” He arched his eyebrows and twirled a mass of noodles onto his fork which he thrust into his mouth.

  My stomach hardened and I struggled to hold in my frustration. I’d never be good enough. Not for him. Not for anyone.

  Mom rolled her eyes, finally taking a bite of the limp salad. “That's enough, Donald. She’s already heard it all from us. Harping on it isn’t going to change history. I already apologized for not asking you if she could move in. Let’s leave it alone, okay?” She wanted him to stop for her, even though she harped on me when it was just her and I in the kitchen or in the living room.

  “I thought my house was empty of children. I thought I could move on, but nope, she’s back and disrupting everything.” He motioned his fork towards me as if I wasn’t in the room.

  Normally I just sat there and took it, ate my meal and focused on something I would do the next day to find a job or make money to get out of there. The worst thing was I was in a town made of about fifteen-thousand people who pretty much knew everyone else. They all liked Derek and didn’t want to chance making him mad by hiring me.

  A new year and a new me beckoned, though. I spoke rashly while holding my gaze on the plate in front of me. “Well, Dad, maybe this will be your lucky year. Maybe I'll leave the house before you get home.”

  Dad started coughing, laughter and choking making his face red. He finally regained his composure enough to wipe his mouth and answer. “I'm not that lucky, girl.”

  “Rachel, your sister makes the sauce with parsley and basil. You might try that next time.” My mom picked up her still-full plate.

  I knew exactly what they were doing. They would throw it away and not eat the rest of it, making a point to leave it on the counter for me to see. They would probably eat dinner later at my sister’s or on the way there to see her and their bratty grandchildren.

  Suddenly, I couldn't wait for them to leave. I didn’t want to be around them.

  Hadn't I seen somewhere that family should rely on each other? I think it was an insurance commercial. The slogan was, “You should be there for your family, let us help,” or something like that.

  Why did I always feel like I was a burden to my family? How could a commercial for life insurance get a pretty standard value, and I was left feeling like I was the only one that understood it? I had stopped crying about the way they made me feel a long time ago, but that didn’t mean my feelings weren’t raw.

  ***

  My tablet glowed dimly in the late-night darkness. The glowing screen competed with the TV for my attention. The house was empty with my parents gone for quite a while, but the lingering aroma of dinner hung on the air with the promise of delicious leftovers for the rest of the week.

  I closed my eyes at the fourth or fifth round of premature fireworks booming outside. My neighbors had an overzealous streak that showed its ugliness during celebratory times. The fireworks would be gone and they’d start on homemade balloon bombs to blow in the street next. There weren’t strong enough earplugs for that.

  “Well, it looks like it’s just you and me.” I tilted my wine glass back and drained the rest of my red Chianti. The movies that I had picked out lost their luster when it was just me, all alone.

  Time was now counted in glasses, or maybe bottles? I’d lost count. I'd been sipping on it pretty steadily for the remainder of the night. The new year was almost there. I had only a few more minutes left to go.

  Nothing had changed.

  What was I doing? Why was I just sitting there eating or drinking my life away? I hadn't meant to be where I was. I didn’t want to live in my parents’ house. I didn't want to live in the same small town where people liked my ex-husband more than they liked me.

  A voice over a black screen with pink text reading ClickandWed.com said, “Why are you sitting there watching TV and drinking wine?”

  What? I glanced at my nearly empty glass and blinked blearily at the TV.

  The voice continued. “Put down your loneliness and rediscover your purpose. Stop messing around; take the next step. Be with someone who isn't afraid of commitment.” A picture of happily smiling couples began to zoom across the screen, like a badly designed collage. “Get matched with your ideal spouse.” Another shot of the logo with a nice white text beneath it said, all candidates are verified. ClickandWed.com. Find your forever.

  I blinked as the commercial disappeared and returned me to my sappy blind date show.

  ClickandWed.com.

  Intriguing that they could guarantee someone who was seeking commitment. Usually online dating sites didn’t take such a bold stance as commitment.

  Pretty sure I’d been single long enough to fulfill any mourning period, I lifted my tablet to check out the magical site that promised commitment-minded men. Curiosity was getting the better of me to know where all the men were hiding. Certainly, not in my small town. They’d all been scared off by Derek.

  Using the touchpad, I typed the URL into the address bar and waited for the lag time to catch up. A beautiful red and white website with black accents popped on the screen. The only thing on the front was a quiz. No other information. Where was the about page? Or the sign-in box? Where were the profiles to see if I was even interested in taking the quiz?

  The first question piqued my interest.

  Are you looking for someone to move to you or do you want to move to them?

  That was a simple question. One I knew the answer to without even having to think really hard.

  Move to them.

  I pushed the red button without thinking. I sure didn't want anyone living in my town and possibly hearing all the stories about me and Derek and what happened between us... or his side of the story anyway.

  All of it was hypothetical, anyway. It's not like anybody really met their spouse on the Internet. If nothing else, the quiz might turn out to be fun.

  I shifted on the couch cushion and focused harder on the screen. I could do this.

  Are you male or female?

  Another easy one; I liked it.

  Female.

  Next.

  Start with the honeymoon or wait until you get to know each other?

  I couldn't help chuckling at that one. That almost sounded like a hooker set up.

  Wait until I get to know them.

  Another small sip of my chianti bolstered my courage.

  You selected move to them, what seasons are you against?

  I lived in Ohio. There wasn’t a season I hadn’t met – including hell frozen over. Too bad that wasn’t an option.

  None.

  Hard work? Do you fear it or embrace it?

  What a weird question, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense.

  Embrace it.

  As my Daddy always said, hard work was the only way to get out of your parents’ house. According to him, that was the most important goal a person could have. Well, if their name was Rachel, anyway.

  I glared at the screen.

  Are looks important?

  Yes.

  I held my finger over the button. But wait, were they? My ex-husband was as hot as they came and he used his charm to get right into my pants and married in no time. I used the sliding scale to select 85%.

  I tipped my glass back only to find it empty. Wrinkling my nose, I put the glass on the coffee table and glowered more at the tablet.

  I sighed, leaning my head back, then stood, setting the tablet on the couch cushion. Rolling my shoulders, I asked out loud, “Are you seriously doing this? Why?” I pursed my lips and answered my question even louder. “Because I have nothing else to
do.” That was good enough for me, so I didn’t argue further with my logic. It made sense and that’s all that mattered.

  Children from a previous marriage or relationship – yay or nay?

  Is that for me or for him? I would have to say no. I don’t have any, but I wasn't opposed to him having any either. How about one? No, I really didn’t care. In fact, I kind of found it a way to increase my family count of people that didn’t hate me.

  Are you faith driven or ambition driven?

  How did I answer that? My family wasn’t really all that faithful, unless you counted Dad’s religious glass of 7 and Seven every night. I didn't know how to answer that one. Thank heaven there was an option that stated either one was fine.

  Do you need to have family nearby?

  No.

  Thank you. Not interested in that mess.

  What animal are you most like?

  What the heck? I tapped my front tooth with my fingernail. Carefully, I typed in Canadian geese. They’re loyal and family-oriented, even if nobody else cares.

  Blech, the wine was making me wallow in self-pity. I hated wallowing.

  Do you need love in your life?

  I stopped to think about that one. Did I need love in my life? I’d lived long enough without it. The most wistful part of my heart, however, whispered that I did.

  I gave in and pressed, Yes.

  Movie or book most like your life?

  Studying the options in the multiple choice, I mouthed the titles, but didn’t speak. Certainly not It’s a Wonderful Life. Hmmm, not An Affair to Remember. I would agree with the option they offered of The Shining, minus the psychotic twin girls in the hallway.

  The movie or book you would like for your life?

  My Big Fat Greek Wedding or The Family Stone. I tried clicking both but ended up with The Family Stone.

  Then, I was shuttled with the flashing red heart icon to answer an overall personality assessment filled with sliding scales and best matches. I think my eyes glazed over halfway through, but I did my best to answer them as best as I could. At one point a small popup shot out and told me to “slow down, all your answers were looking the same.”