The Maverick's Bridal Bargain

Whose wedding is it, anyway?

Rust Creek Ramblings

Why is Cole Dalton planning a wedding? No one even knew the ex-marine and rugged rancher was dating, and suddenly he has hired wedding planner Vivienne Shuster to coordinate his nuptials. Why has no one met his mystery bride? We here at the Gazette believe this engagement is fake. The sparks between Cole and his “wedding planner,” however, are strictly legit. Hang on to your invites, dear readers—someone may still be walking down the aisle!

CHRISTY JEFFRIES graduated from the University of California, Irvine, with a degree in criminology, and received her Juris Doctor from California Western School of Law. But drafting court documents and working in law enforcement was merely an apprenticeship for her current career in the dynamic field of mommyhood and romance writing. She lives in Southern California with her patient husband, two energetic sons and one sassy grandmother. Follow her online at www.christyjeffries.com.

Also by Christy Jeffries

A Proposal for the Officer

A Family Under the Stars

The Makeover Prescription

The Matchmaking Twins

From Dare to Due Date

Waking Up Wed

A Marine for His Mom

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

The Maverick’s Bridal Bargain

Christy Jeffries

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07775-0

THE MAVERICK’S BRIDAL BARGAIN

© 2018 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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To Stephanie Uribe Roman Phillips, my college (and beyond) roommate, my partner in crime, my wingwoman, my dance floor equal, my V&T co-conspirator, my maid of honor, my sister in mommyhood, my therapist, my mainstay, my very best of best friends. And that’s just the first 25 years.

C

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

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. “Hey, Lydia.”

“Hi, Cole. This is our wedding planner, Vivienne Shuster,” Lydia responded. “Vivienne, this is Cole Dalton, one of Zach’s brothers.”

Thankfully, Vivienne 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 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.