The Brides 0f Purple Heart Ranch Boxset, Bks 1-3 Page 18

  Instead, it engaged its users on a final exam about their life, asking questions about every facet of their being then matching potential couples based on an algorithm. Most of the guys Sarai had been matched with had been slightly over fifty percent. But she and Reed were a near perfect match at ninety-eight percent.

  Maybe … Just, maybe?

  The computer screen blinked. The dark square that had been black filled with the face of a man. A handsome man. Sarai leaned in and wiped her monitor just to make sure all that perfection was real.

  There were no wayward smudges on her lens. Reed Cannon was the stuff of a girl’s dreams. He was handsome with his sandy blond hair and evenly tanned skin. His intelligent, dark eyes pierced her through the colored monitor. His lips were stretched in a cupid’s bow that aimed straight for her heart. He looked like a young Luke Skywalker. All he needed was the lightsaber.

  And he wanted to date her. So there had to be something wrong with him. She just couldn’t figure it out.

  Then she saw it; his prosthetic arm. He thought that would deter a woman? If anything it clenched the comparison to the young Jedi in her mind. What fan of the Star Wars franchise wouldn’t find the loss of a limb in combat just a little hot?

  “Sarai? Are you there?”

  “Just a second.”

  Sarai took a deep breath. She could do this. She wanted to do this. She wanted to continue her conversations with Reed. And if they had to happen on screen, then so be it. She reached to click the mouse.

  But before she did, she readjusted the camera to ensure that it only showed her from the shoulders up. All the weight she’d gained was in her belly and hips. She had a good collarbone. And the angles of her face were still attractive.

  She’d made up her face, of course. What woman didn’t immediately put on makeup after rolling out of bed in the morning whether they were receiving company or not? She wasn’t a complete sloth.

  She’d penciled in a smoky eye to accentuate the lift of her lids. She’d learned to kohl her eyes back in middle school under the tutelage of her Persian mother. As always, Sarai added some golden sparkles to bring out the hazel flecks in her green eyes.

  Her lips were Autumn Red, a shade that highlighted the hints of red in her skin coloring. She’d kept her blonde hair up in an intricate knot that looked effortless, but she’d taken forty-five minutes to sculpt it. Her blonde tresses and green eyes were the only physical traits she’d gotten from her dad’s side of the family. Everything else spoke to her Middle Eastern roots. All bundled up together, it made her look unique.

  Well, it made her face look unique.

  Checking once again to be sure that the virtual connection between her and Reed was disconnected, Sarai stood. She readjusted her shirt. The scoop neck flattered her collarbone making her look slimmer, but when she stood the shirt rode up exposing the rolls of her belly.

  Her flesh wasn’t on display. She’d double-Spanxed herself into the top. But that hadn’t stopped the bubbles of her belly from rising up beyond the spandex. And the double-Spanx always made laughing, and talking, and breathing tricky. But beauty was pain, right?

  Looking into the monitor, Sarai saw herself framed for the view. From the neck up, she had no trouble admitting she was a beauty. Once upon a time, her face had gotten her booked into the high end of fashion. It was just the rest of her that was a fat mess.

  Her boobs, which had always been large, now had an equal amount of flesh under her armpits. Her arms now had an extra layer of fat that wiggled when she raised them. Her belly jiggled when she walked as if she were doing some belly dance from her ancestral homeland. And don’t get her started on her thighs. She was sure Thor trembled when she walked.

  Sarai took a deep breath. In her mind, she took those negatives statements and picked them apart. She was not the number on the scale. She was not solely what she saw reflected back in the mirror. The positivity technique she’d practiced in therapy helped to calm her nerves. But it didn’t change her mind. Therapy had helped her cope, but it hadn’t cured her. She would never be truly cured.

  “Sarai? Has our connection gone bad?”

  Sarai closed her eyes. She didn’t want the connection she had with this man to break. But to keep it intact, she’d have to reach out and grab the other end of the knot.

  Sarai clicked the button.

  On the other end of the connection, Reed blinked a couple of times. Sarai chewed her lip as she waited for his verdict. Were her arms in the shot? Could he see the flab? Oh no, she hadn’t contoured her cheekbones to perfection. Surely she looked like a chipmunk with a store of winter’s nuts in her jowls.

  “Wow,” Reed whispered.

  Sarai’s hand shot to her cheek. Was it that bad? What had she been thinking? She reached for the mouse to turn off the camera. The fat wobbled at the backside of her bicep as she did so.

  “You’re beautiful.” Reed’s smile stretched across his face. His dark eyes were crystal clear as he gazed at his screen. He didn’t look disgusted. He looked pleased.

  Maybe the camera subtracted a few pounds? There was the whole compression thing that happened as information traveled across the ether. He’d called her beautiful. It was nice to hear. But still, Sarai had a hard time believing it was the truth.

  “You’re beautiful,” she parroted. Those words she believed. Reed could’ve easily broken into the modeling world with his looks.

  “Not without all my parts.” He held up his prosthetic arm.

  “Nonsense.” Sarai barely gave it a glance. She was more intent on the light in his eyes as he looked at her in the monitor. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t mind her own reflection. “Put on a black glove, put a lightsaber in it, and I’ll probably swoon.”

  Reed threw his head back and laughed. Sarai had loved eliciting laughter from him over the voice calls. Watching it happen in real time and in color was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Suddenly, she couldn’t remember why she’d waited so long to get to this step? If this was the sight she’d see at the top of the mountain, then she’d happily climb to get here.

  “I know the protocol says to have four video chats before meeting in person,” said Reed. “But I’d love to take you out to dinner.”

  Sarai felt herself falling off the high mountain at the mere thought. Dinner and date; two of the most feared words in her vocabulary. Reed wanted to not only see her in the flesh, he also wanted to watch her feed the excess amount of flesh on her person.

  No, this wouldn’t do.

  Her hand reached for the disconnect button. Her index finger pointed at the END button on the screen. But she couldn’t do it. She didn’t want to lose the sight of his face. Or the twinkle in his eye as he looked at her. But neither could she see him in person the way she was.

  “Come out with me, Sarai.”

  “I can’t.”

  Reed’s face fell. The light in his eyes dimmed. “Why not?”

  “Because …” Sarai looked out the window at the Montana skyline. One of the compatibility points was proximity. She knew Reed lived in the same state as her. He was only thirty minutes away. “Because I’m headed out of town. Out of the country, actually. I’ll be in Paris for a couple of weeks doing makeup for my friend’s photo shoot.”

  “A couple of weeks?” He looked devastated.

  “But maybe we can see each other when I get back? That is if you’re still interested.”

  “If I’m still interested?” He raised a brow and then leaned into the camera. “Would a Weeping Angel mute a Silent?”

  Surprised laughter spilled out of Sarai. “Wait, we haven’t come to an agreement on that.”

  “Then I suppose we’ll have to keep debating it and settle it when we meet in person.”

  Reed’s grin was contagious. Sarai found herself matching it, no longer concerned if her cheeks were puffing out. She had a plan.

  There were plenty of weight loss programs that touted drastic changes in just thirty days
. She’d start one tomorrow, and then, next month, she’d settle this fictional argument in real life with this man straight out of her dreams.

  Chapter Three

  “How in the world did coffee spill inside the tower?” Reed crouched over the soggy computer terminal atop Dr. Patel’s desk. The smell of fried wires and dark roast hit his nose.

  Beside him, Soldier gave the wet ground a sniff. The little Chihuahua had been Reed’s shadow for the last few weeks. His literal shadow as the small dog sported only three limbs like his human companion.

  “Everything was going fine,” said Dr. Patel. “And then the coffee holder suddenly retracted.”

  “Coffee holder?” Reed looked around the edge of the desk. There was no coffee holder. He knew that for a fact.

  The interior design and functionality inside the medical suite had been his responsibility. That had included ordering the furniture and putting things together. It would be a feat for a one-armed man, but Reed was up for the task. He knew the job would take multiple days so he’d ordered the computer hardware and the office furniture to come in on separate days.

  But somehow the computers and office furniture had all arrived on the same day. He was sure one of his fellow soldiers had interfered with his order, or simply held up the packages until they were all here at the same time. That way Reed couldn’t refuse their help in putting things together when everything came at once.

  Xavier and Sean had set about screwing in and hammering at the office furniture while Reed had focused all of his attention on the computers. When it came to computers, the other two men were pretty useless.

  Reed couldn’t stand being useless. Or worse, having someone think he was useless. Just because he’d lost a limb didn’t mean he’d lost out on life. He still did all the things he loved.

  He played video games. He played tabletop games. He played sports. He dated.

  Nope. Not having his arm wasn’t holding him back in the slightest. What was standing in his way, at the moment, was just an ocean.

  The Atlantic Ocean stood between him and Sarai. That body of water was keeping Reed from achieving his goal of meeting her, courting her, wooing her, proposing to her, and then marrying her all within six weeks’ time. Six weeks was the deadline for when the land the ranch sat on would change its zoning so that only families could live there daily. If Reed wanted to stay in this place where he was accepted, this place where he was useful, this place that had given him and his fellow soldiers a new purpose after exacting a pound of flesh from each and every one of them, then he’d have to get married.

  That was why he’d been on the dating apps. He was looking for a bride who’d be compatible for him. If he could get the right woman to say yes in time, then he could stay for the rest of his life.

  “Where exactly did you put your coffee cup, Dr. Patel?” Reed turned back to a problem he could solve.

  He’d been a technology specialist in the armed forces. He was still able to perform all the tasks necessary to operate a computer. However, his disability status cut him out of a lot of the jobs he’d once been qualified for; namely those in combat zones. What was left for him were jobs he was overqualified for, jobs that didn’t use 10% of his skillsets, jobs that would leave him bored to tears behind a desk all day long.

  Reed turned to Dr. Patel as the older man pointed to the computer tower. Reed frowned. There was no coffee holder there.

  Dr. Patel pressed a button. Soldier let out a stream of yips as a whirring sound emitted and the CD disk drawer opened. Both man and dog stared speechless at the dripping compartment meant for outdated circular disks. Then they both swiveled their heads to look up at the degreed man who sat in the office chair.

  Last week, the psychologist had called Reed into his office. Dr. Patel had frowned at him insisting he’d called Reed for help with his computer problems ages ago. Reed was meticulous about appointments and being mindful of people’s time. When he insisted he never got the message, Dr. Patel said he’d pressed the F1 button on his computer days ago. Reed had tried to explain that that particular HELP function wasn’t connected to him.

  Reed hadn’t laughed at the older man. It was par for the course with the good doctor and technology. When he’d first come to work at the ranch, Dr. Patel had asked Reed if he could reboot the internet because it was running slow that day.

  “How is it you developed the dating app that has likely changed my life, but you have more trouble with technology than anyone I’ve ever met?” Reed asked as he sat down to work on the sopping wet terminal. He didn’t have high hopes that the computer would survive. If it did survive this attack by the good doctor, its days were still numbered in this office.

  “I didn’t develop the app.” Dr. Patel reached down and brought Soldier into his lap. The dog balanced on his hind legs as he stretched his small head up to receive scratches. “Only the compatibility questionnaire. That, I wrote out on paper. So, it’s working well for you? You’ve found some matches.”

  “I found THE match. We’re a 98% compatibility.”

  “That’s wonderful. I’m so pleased to hear it. I suppose you’ll be bringing her to the ranch soon? Possibly wedding bells in the near future?”

  Reed hadn’t told Sarai about the necessity for wedding bells yet. He hadn’t told her he needed to get married in under two months if he wanted to keep his home and his livelihood here on the ranch. He’d had enough rejection when he’d been discharged from the army.

  “She’s out of the country for a couple of weeks,” said Reed. “But we’ve been talking every day for a while. Now we’re video chatting and FaceTiming.”

  “Sounds like things are progressing. Pretty much like how I courted my wife. We wrote to each other and spoke over the phone before meeting face to face.”

  Dr. Patel had had an arranged marriage, and he’d been happily married for decades. He’d arranged many other people’s marriages, including two other soldiers on the Purple Heart Ranch. Reed had thought about recruiting the doctor for his love life too, but he’d become gun-shy about meeting women in the flesh when he had some flesh of his own missing.

  The app, which allowed two potential partners to get to know each other based on compatibility, was a much more palatable idea. And it had worked. He’d met Sarai who hadn’t once balked at his lost limb.

  “She’s out of the country for weeks, you say?” asked Dr. Patel. “That’ll be cutting it close. The zoning changes officially in just under two months.”

  “Yeah, I know.” But Reed also knew that Sarai was it for him. He’d never met someone he’d had so much in common with. She was the one. He just knew it. “I guess I’ll just have to get her to fall for me over the internet.”

  The computer before him sparked and whizzed. Reed jumped back toward safety. Soldier hopped down from Dr. Patel’s lap and ran out of the room. The wires connecting the terminal to the router smoked. Looked like the terminal’s number had come sooner rather than later.

  Chapter Four

  Sweat dripped down Sarai’s face as she pumped her arms and marched in time to the beat. Coordination was not her strong suit. Unless it had to do with accessorizing.

  Her latest blog post had been on pairing the right bracelet with the right lip gloss and then moving day to night with the look. It had garnered her over a thousand likes in an hour. She was now a quarter hour into the new aerobic phase of her life and beads of sweat were her only companion.

  Sarai’s heart pounded as she tried to mimic the so-called easy movements of the skinny women in scant spandex on the screen. This workout promised it was simple enough for the very beginningist of beginners to succeed. So far she was succeeding, even if out of breath.

  “Now, deep breath in,” said the cheery leader on the screen.

  The fitness expert’s rock hard abs glistened with oil that made Sarai squint as she looked at the flat screen TV. Sarai looked away from the leader’s example to the girl next to her. The carbon copy of the leader had been po
inted out at the start of the video as the one to follow for a low-impact version of the exercises. Second fiddle’s abs were cut and glistening too. Neither woman was breaking a sweat or grunting or grimacing like Sarai. Sarai couldn’t help but wonder why no one on these videos looked like the people who pressed play at home?

  It was no matter. The skinny leader had just told everyone to take a deep breath. That had to mean she was at the cool down portion of the workout. They’d stopped moving and were all taking deep, soothing breaths. Oh, thank goodness, it looked like it was over.

  “And another deep inhale,” said the workout leader. “Great job. You did it.”

  Sarai had done it. She'd made it through the entire workout. She was out of breath and a sweaty mess, but she’d done it.

  “That completes the warm-up.”

  Sarai froze. Her arms had been stretched up in the inhale posture. Her head had been tilted up toward the ceiling, as though she were lost in a prayer of gratitude. Her head dropped down until she was looking square at the television screen to make sure she’d heard the skinny leader right.

  Warm up?

  That was the warm up?

  Sarai dropped her arms to her sides. The flesh of her arms landed against the flesh of her love handles with a splat and a squish. She picked up the remote control and killed the power on the television set. The world turned to black, erasing the glistening abs of the trainers.

  Thirty days. The cover on the DVD promised she’d lose up to twenty pounds in twenty days and become her best self. But Sarai couldn’t make it twenty minutes in the program.

  Outside, the beautiful Montana sky was darkening. She’d told Reed that she was out of town. It was the only reason she could think of to keep from seeing him in person while still seeing him virtually. Because she wasn’t quite ready to give him up. She wasn’t sure if she could ever give him up.