Chapter One

      While Vivienne Shuster no longer made assumptions about whose marriages would last, she could say with certainty that the bride and groom sitting across the conference-room table from her didn’t appear to be the type who would maliciously smash cake in each other’s faces.

      Not that being a Junior Wedding Planner—yes, her boss had actually put that title on Vivienne’s business cards—in Kalispell, Montana, gave Vivienne any sort of sneak peek into the future, but it did give her an inside track as to how a couple navigated one of the most stressful events of their relationship. Because if they couldn’t deal well with simple decisions like color schemes and invite lists, the pair was doomed when it came to handling the more important realities of life after the wedding glow burned out.

      Listening intently, Vivienne nodded as she scribbled notes inside the brand-new binder she’d started when Lydia Grant and Zach Dalton came into her office fifteen minutes ago. So far, Lydia was the ideal bride in that she was already eager to leave most of the details to Vivienne and seemed to be more excited over the prospect of getting married than the actual reception. In fact, the groom was the one who’d scheduled the initial consultation in an effort to take some of the pressure of planning off his soon-to-be wife.

      Zach and Lydia were clearly enamored with each other and, so far, the meeting was going smoothly, with everyone on the same page. Vivienne wasn’t surprised to find herself back on Team Romance—which was what she secretly called this euphoric mood that made her believe long-lasting love might actually be possible. It was times like these when she absolutely adored her job.

      Unfortunately, in her chosen profession, the good moments were starting to become a lot less frequent than the headache-inducing ones.

      Glancing at her slim smartwatch, she realized that she had only another hour before her boss showed up. Vivienne had purposely scheduled this appointment for seven in the morning, well before normal business hours, because she knew that her boss would be salivating once she found out that the couple wanted to have their wedding in Rust Creek Falls. The owner of Estelle’s Events weighed all of ninety pounds—not counting her makeup and false eyelashes, which added at least another five—and had been smoking a pack a day for the past fifty years. If Estelle got her acrylic claws into this easygoing bride, then the small town of Rust Creek Falls, Montana, would never know what hit it.

      “So we’ve got three bridesmaids,” Vivienne confirmed with Lydia, before turning to Zach. “What about groomsmen?”

      “Now, that may be a problem.” Even without his Stetson, Zach was good-looking. But when the guy hitched up one side of his mouth into an aw-shucks grin, he became a double threat—gorgeous and charming. “I have four brothers.”

      “Four?” Vivienne gulped, blinking a few times to keep her eyes from bugging out. There was more than one handsome cowboy like this out there somewhere?

      Zach pulled a picture from his wallet and handed it across the desk as though to prove it. She attempted to study the photo with as much professionalism as she could muster. There were two pairs of cowboys sitting on the top slat of a wooden corral, bookending a fifth cowboy who was standing in the middle. Zach was probably one of the sitters, but, honestly, Vivienne barely gave those guys a passing glance. She quickly narrowed in on the one in the center, though only because his central position and straight posture drew all of her attention. It had nothing to do with his sexy smirk or alert blue eyes. And it certainly wasn’t because of the way his jeans fit perfectly on his—

      “Is it a problem if we’re uneven?” Lydia asked, yanking Vivienne out of her inappropriate thoughts. The bride-to-be was wearing jeans, a retro T-shirt advertising the band Lynyrd Skynyrd, and had a mess of brown curls piled into a ponytail. She definitely didn’t strike Vivienne as the type to be bothered by unconventional appearances.

      “No problem at all,” she assured Lydia, smiling as she clung to the picture she wasn’t quite ready to return. “It’s your big day. There is no right way or wrong way to do things.”

      She snuck another peek at her watch, knowing the uproar Estelle would make if she overheard Vivienne saying that to a client. As a Junior Wedding Planner, Vivienne’s so-called office actually doubled as the conference room and was currently open to the reception area so she could pull double duty as the receptionist. It also meant Vivienne could easily be overheard whenever she was talking to her clients, which was why she always tried to conduct these initial appointments when her boss wasn’t around.

      “So, with that many brothers, are you willing to pick just one to be the best man?” Vivienne asked, needing to move this meeting along but not wanting to rush Zach with what could be an important decision.

      Judging by the happily casual way they were all posing in the picture, it was easy to make the assumption that the Dalton brothers were close. But as an only child, her experience in dealing with sibling rivalry had been limited to what she’d witnessed during prior weddings. She’d had her share of brides who didn’t want a prettier sister upstaging them on their big day. There’d even once been an usher who decided that the start of his brother’s ceremony would be the perfect time to propose to his own girlfriend. In short, nobody liked having their thunder stolen.

      Zach held his cowboy hat in his lap, tapping the brim as he considered his options. Vivienne cleared her throat. “Or you could pick a friend or a cousin or even skip having a best man altogether.”

      He looked at Lydia, who simply shrugged. “It’s up to you.”

      “I should go with Booker because he’s the oldest,” the groom began. “But Cole can have a bit of a hero complex and will think he’s the only one—”

      The front door creaked open, interrupting Zach and forcing all three of their heads to swivel down the short hall in that direction. Vivienne held her breath, praying it was only a delivery person and that Estelle hadn’t decided to come in early.

      But before she could stand up and intercept whoever it was, the middle cowboy from the picture strode across the reception area toward them, his boot heels clicking on the hardwood floor, his jeans well-worn and snug on his long, muscular legs. An electrical current shot through Vivienne and it took a few attempts for her to get her wobbly legs steady enough to rise to her feet.

      How was it possible that the man was even better looking in person?

      “Speak of the devil,” Zach said to her and then also stood up and turned to the newcomer. “What are you doing here, Cole?”

      “Did you even look at your left rear tire before driving all the way to Kalispell this morning?” the newcomer said to Zach. Then, as if suddenly realizing that his brother wasn’t the only one in the room, the man removed his off-white cowboy hat and addressed his soon-to-be sister-in-law.