The Maverick's Bridal Bargain. Christy Jeffries
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had braced one hand on the edge of the table when she leaned across it to shake his, because the warmth of Cole’s palm enveloped her and she would’ve found herself moving in closer to him if there hadn’t been three feet of heavily polished antique walnut separating them.
“Sorry to barge in on you like this, ma’am.” His words drew her in even closer until her hips pressed against the table.
Growing up in Montana, despite having lived only in the bigger cities, Vivienne was accustomed to the occasional cowboy calling her ma’am. But there was something about Cole’s voice that was both honey filled yet crisp at the same time. She cleared her throat and replied, “It’s no problem.”
“What’s wrong with my left rear tire?” Zach’s words penetrated Vivienne’s improper fascination and, thankfully, reminded her to pull her hand back.
Her cheeks stung with heat as she looked down to straighten her still-empty binder, then took a swig of her iced coffee nearby. The last thing her overactive imagination needed was caffeine, but there were only so many things she could focus on besides the good-looking man with the sexy voice and mesmerizing handshake.
“When I went out to the stables this morning, I noticed the pressure was low,” Cole told his brother, and Vivienne sank slowly into her chair, relieved that nobody else in the room was paying any attention to how her body had just responded to a complete stranger. “I was going to get the compressor out of the shed and fill it up for you after I got done changing the poultice on Zorro’s foreleg. But you’d hightailed it out of there before I got back. Aunt Rita told me about your appointment, and the whole way here I had to keep my eyes peeled to make sure you weren’t stranded on the side of the road with a flat.”
Zach looked over his shoulder and mouthed the words hero complex to Vivienne and Lydia before turning back to his brother. “Why didn’t you just call?”
“I did. You didn’t answer. I also called the bridal shop here, but all I got was an answering service.”
Vivienne was about to explain that they weren’t just a bridal shop as well as the fact that, technically, they weren’t open yet. But the concern on Cole’s face seemed genuine, and his indignation about his brother’s safety made the guy even more attractive, if that was possible.
Zach rolled his eyes, pulling his cell from his pocket. “Sorry, man. I must’ve accidentally set it on sleep mode.”
“You know the family rule about phones.” Cole crossed his arms over his broad chest, and his brother’s expression turned from playful annoyance to humble remorse.
“You’re right.” Zach reached out and squeezed Cole’s shoulder. “Why don’t we go outside and look at my tire?”
The men excused themselves and the front door had just clicked shut behind them when Vivienne asked Lydia, “What’s the family rule about cell phones?”
She wanted to kick herself for asking a client such a personal question that was absolutely none of her business. But Lydia was an assistant manager and sort of reporter-at-large for a small-town newspaper and would, hopefully, understand Vivienne’s blatant curiosity.
“Do you remember hearing about that horrible wildfire in Hardin last year?” At Vivienne’s nod, Lydia continued. “Well, their ranch and the family house caught fire.”
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