Christy Jeffries - The Maverick's Bridal Bargain

The woman looked up at the ceiling as though she was weighing whether or not to continue the story. When she lowered her head, Vivienne realized Lydia’s eyes had grown damp. Reaching into her go bag, where she always kept an emergency stash of anything a bride might need on her big day, Vivienne grabbed a package of tissues and slid them across the table to Lydia. “That must’ve been a horrible loss.”

“It was beyond horrible. Their mom was also in the house at the time and nobody had been able to warn her about the blaze because she’d left her cell phone in her car outside.”

Vivienne’s chest felt hollow and she pressed her lips together to keep from asking the obvious question. But judging by the way Lydia released a ragged breath, the answer was pretty clear. Her heart broke for Zach and Cole and, really, for all of the Dalton brothers. Especially since the loss of their mother was so recent.

She reached back into her go bag and replaced the tissues with a king-size bag of M&M’s. Vivienne was no stranger to delicate situations, but some wedding dynamics called for a little more finesse and a lot more chocolate.

* * *

Cole Dalton didn’t waste any time reading his brother the riot act as soon as their boots hit the parking lot. “Zach, it’s one thing if you insist on driving around town on four bald tires when it’s just you in the rig, but now that you’re shackling yourself with a wife, you’ll be responsible for someone else’s safety and happiness.”

“Shackling?” Zach lifted one of his eyebrows. “You make it sound like a prison sentence.”

Cole sighed. “It’s not that I think marriage is a prison sentence. After all, our parents were in love and probably would’ve been married for another thirty-five years...” He let his voice trail off. Nobody liked thinking about what could have been, and the men of the Dalton family especially weren’t eager to talk about it. “Anyway, I’m sure you won’t mess things up too badly with Lydia.”

“Yeah, right. When you can commit to a woman for longer than a slow dance at the Ace in the Hole on a Saturday night, then you can give me relationship advice, big brother.”

“Commit? Oh, please. I’ve got my hands so full looking out for you and the rest of our oversize family, I barely have time to schedule an appointment at the barbershop, let alone take a woman out on a proper date.”

“Is that a fact?” Zach asked, and Cole took off his Stetson to show his brother how long it’d been since his last military-regulation haircut. Okay, so it had been only a few weeks, but when Cole had been on active duty in the Marine Corps, he was used to getting a high and tight every ten days. Zach whistled and replied, “It sure seemed like you had all the time in the world when you wouldn’t let go of that pretty wedding planner’s hand a few minutes ago.”

Cole folded his arms over his chest, knowing his brother was just trying to rile him up. All the Dalton boys enjoyed going back and forth with each other like that. But the defensive stance also helped hide the way he was flexing his right hand, which still tingled from the softness of Vivienne’s palm fitting so perfectly inside it.

Cole nodded toward the building’s entrance. “I was just caught off guard by all the froufrou decorations in that war zone they call an office.”

“War zone?” his brother repeated, his brow arched. “Froufrou?”

“It looked like someone crashed a Humvee full of roses into a lace factory. I mean, how many pictures of fancy white dresses and champagne glasses do they need in that place? It’s like a single man’s kryptonite inside of there, sucking out all masculine logic and rationale. You’re lucky I was able to break you out when I did.”

“I can’t disagree with you on that, although I was surprised you were able to notice anything else in the room besides Vivienne.” Zach grinned, then held up a hand when Cole began to argue. “As much as I’d love to stand out here in the parking lot and listen to you try to deny it, I need to go back inside, since I promised Lydia I wouldn’t make her do all of this wedding planning alone.”

“Fine. I’ll take your truck over to the gas station up the street and fill the tires while you finish.” Cole held out his palm and waited for Zach to toss him the keys.

“Thanks, man.”

A few seconds later, Cole yelled across the parking lot to his brother’s retreating back. “I’ll leave them under the floor mat when I’m done.”

Because he sure as hell wasn’t going back inside that bridal shop and dealing with his unexpected attraction to some fancy—but totally unnecessary—wedding planner. Cole shook his head as he hopped into the cab of Zach’s truck and started the engine. Some sappy love song blasted out of the speakers and his finger dived toward the radio to switch off the country music station.

Yet he couldn’t get the image of the blonde woman out of his mind. Her hair had been pulled back into some kind of loose ponytail, but he could tell it was long and wavy and soft. Her white button-up shirt was all business, and even her navy blue pin-striped skirt was relatively professional, except for the fact that when she’d stood up to greet him, she’d had to tug the hem down. But not before he’d caught a glimpse of a dark brown freckle on the inside of her thigh.

Her lips were soft and pink and her eyes were a fascinating shade of green. She was on the taller side, maybe five-nine. He hadn’t seen if she was wearing high heels or not, but cool and classy ladies like that usually wore fancy, useless shoes. However, all of those details were slow to register with him because when he’d been shaking her hand, Cole hadn’t been able to think of anything but that sexy little freckle.

He turned into the gas station and pulled the truck up to the air hose before squeezing his eyes shut and trying to clear his head. It wasn’t like Vivienne Shuster was the first good-looking woman Cole had ever met. He’d been in the Marines, stationed all over the United States, as well as a few bases overseas, and had always known where he could find a date on the few times he’d gone looking for a fun time.

So then why had his muscles gone all soft and his brain turned to mush when he’d met her?

Unlike his brother Zach, who’d actually placed an ad in the newspaper looking for a wife, relationships weren’t exactly on Cole’s radar at this juncture. Hell, they weren’t even in his atmosphere.

Sure, once upon a time, he’d pictured himself moving back to Montana eventually and settling down with a wife and possibly having some kids of his own. But ever since his mom passed away, Cole had realized there were no absolutes in life. There was no point in planning that far into the future. Right now, his dad needed him. The property they’d been interested in buying fell through and, while they weren’t exactly wearing out their welcome at the Circle D with his aunt and uncle, they still had to help their dad find a new ranch and get it running. Phil Dalton deserved to have a working place of his own, a place he could share with his sons. Yet Cole also owed it to his family to keep things as normal as possible, to prevent them from realizing how much responsibility he was shouldering.

So, yeah, he let his relatives think that he was in the market for the occasional date. He’d even gone out with a few women back when his cousin was filming that reality TV show in town. But Cole was always sure to flirt only with the ladies who didn’t take him seriously. He certainly didn’t react to them the way he’d responded to Vivienne.

But that was just a one-off. Surrounded by all that happily-ever-after propaganda and poster-sized images of wedded bliss back in her office—even for the few minutes he was exposed to it—who wouldn’t have gotten overwhelmed and panicked? He’d been all fired up when he’d walked into her bridal shop, his worry and annoyance with Zach having snowballed during the twenty-minute drive there from Rust Creek Falls. Then, when he got inside, he was so out of his comfort zone he’d felt like one of those green plastic army toys thrown into a frilly, decked-out dollhouse. He’d had to do a complete one-eighty and rein himself in.