The Maverick's Bridal Bargain. Christy Jeffries

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Название The Maverick's Bridal Bargain
Автор произведения Christy Jeffries
Жанр Контркультура
Серия Montana Mavericks
Издательство Контркультура
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474077750



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Dalton men were six feet tall, with similar lean, muscular builds. While Vivienne was more appreciative of the way Cole filled out his jeans, neither one was at risk of needing to watch his calories. But that didn’t stop them from arguing over who was entitled to which snack.

      Someone needed to pass Vivienne something to eat soon, because she couldn’t keep up this charade for long. Stress made her hungry, and while this was one of the easiest couples to work with, Cole’s constant presence wasn’t exactly relaxing, despite her comfortable seat at the long pine table. If the awkward moment in the bathroom hadn’t happened, she might be able to enjoy this family’s teasing camaraderie. But that wasn’t what she was getting paid to do.

      “All this talk about food brings up another thing we need to be thinking about before we go look at venues,” Vivienne said in an effort to smoothly transition the conversation back to the purpose of their meeting. “Do you guys have a preference for a buffet, or would you rather serve a formal plated meal?”

      “Hmm. I guess we have to feed our guests, don’t we?” Lydia put her elbow on the table and propped her chin on her hand.

      “Not necessarily.” Vivienne gave a discreet cough, attempting to block out Estelle’s voice in her head drilling her to always upsell. “Some couples prefer to save money by having only light refreshments and cake.”

      Luckily, this particular bride and groom had already laid out their budget at the initial meeting, and she doubted that Zach and Lydia would be the type to skimp on their guests’ comfort. Still, she felt the need to always give people their options.

      “Seems to me like you guys should just drive over to the courthouse, say the I do’s and be done with the whole thing.” Cole gestured at the binder. “That paper you guys sign is going to be the same whether you throw away all your money on this nonsense or not.”

      Nonsense? Did the man realize that he was indirectly implying that Vivienne and her job were completely useless, as well? Her spine straightened at the insult but soon lost some of its steel resolve when she couldn’t really argue the point. More often than not, she felt that weddings and even marriages were just a big waste of effort and time. But she wasn’t about to admit as much in front of her clients. She was supposed to be drumming up more business, not losing it.

      Thankfully, Lydia jumped in. “Cole, this wedding isn’t just about me and Zach. It’s about our families and our friends and our journey to finding each other. It may be nonsense to you, but to me, it’s an opportunity to celebrate everything and everyone who is important in our relationship.”

      Zach opened his mouth—probably to defend his bride, who was clearly capable of speaking up for herself—but his cell phone went off at the exact same time Cole pulled his own vibrating phone from his pocket.

      “It’s a group text from Dad,” Cole said first.

      “I know,” Zach replied, not looking up from his cell. “I’m part of the group.”

      It seemed like a race to see which brother could read the message first. Not that she had a view of anyone’s screens from her seat on the opposite side of the table, but curiosity had Vivienne scooting closer to the edge of her chair.

      Cole’s fingers were already flying across the electronic keyboard, likely because he wanted to be the first to respond. She was sensing a competitive edge to the middle Dalton son.

      Luckily, Zach didn’t appear to have the same sense of urgency to reply, because he announced, “Looks like Dad just made an offer on some property a few miles away.”

      “That’s fantastic,” Lydia said. “Where is it?”

      “He said Sawmill Station,” Zach replied. “I know we’re still pretty new to Rust Creek and I’ve heard of Sawmill Road. But I’ve never heard of a ranch by that name.”

      Lydia tilted her head. “That’s because Sawmill Station isn’t a ranch. It’s an old abandoned train depot.”

      “Why would Dad make an offer on an abandoned train depot?” Cole asked as he continued typing.

      Zach’s phone made another ping. “I’d ask him, but I can’t dial out when my phone keeps buzzing with incoming texts from you.”

      “I just told him that I’m here at the Circle D with you and we can swing by to check it out.”

      “I know,” Zach told his brother, holding up his phone. “I can read.”

      Lydia looked at her watch. “We have another hour before our appointment at Maverick Manor in town. Since Sawmill Station is on the way, we could swing by and check it out. Would you mind, Vivienne?”

      She leaned back slowly in her chair to prevent herself from sliding under the table to get away from Cole’s penetrating stare. Anticipation hummed through the kitchen and it was obvious that buying this property was a monumental occasion for the Dalton family. Normally, she liked to meet with her clients at their homes or workplaces because seeing them in their natural surroundings gave her a better sense of their personalities, which translated to a fuller picture of how they envisioned their big day. However, tagging along on a private family outing was surely beyond the boundaries of her job description.

      Yet all three of them looked so eager she couldn’t very well deny them their side trip. And they could just as easily discuss bouquets and music playlists in the car. Besides, this was her last appointment of the day. The only thing waiting for her at home was a to-go box containing half of a three-day-old club sandwich, and an unsocial guinea pig who refused to come out of its cage.

      Vivienne managed a weak smile and said, “Sure. Why not?”

      * * *

      Cole should’ve just driven his own truck, but GPS navigational systems were still spotty this far out and Lydia was the only person who knew exactly where they were going. They could’ve gone caravan style, but Cole had never been the type to blindly follow while one of his brothers took the lead. Riding together seemed like the most logical solution.

      Of course, that was before he realized that he’d be crammed into the back seat of the crew cab next to the hoity-toity wedding planner who kept her body so stiff there wasn’t a bump or pothole along the way that would dislodge her from her seat-belted perch.

      Fortunately, the soft fabric of her overlapping skirt wasn’t as rigid and would gape open a little wider every time his brother navigated a curve on the winding, narrow road that led to the new property. Cole had just gotten a peek of the freckle on Vivienne’s thigh when the truck made a sharp right at a faded yellow sign that might’ve once read Sawmill Station.

      “I thought Dad was going to buy an actual ranch,” Zach commented as he slowed the vehicle in front of a run-down brick building that was way too enormous to be a barn or a stable.

      “It’s certainly a far cry from the Circle D,” Cole agreed. “But Dad said he was buying it for the acreage. I guess we’re supposed to envision it once we get those old structures torn down and some pastures mapped out.”

      Lydia’s yelp from the front seat was more like a squeak. “You can’t just tear down those buildings. They’re historical landmarks.”

      Cole waited for Zach to put the truck in Park before unbuckling his seat belt. As he hopped out, he asked, “Are we going to run a ranch or a museum?”

      He walked around to the passenger side of the truck, where Vivienne was tentatively placing one high-heeled foot on the running board in order to climb down. Cole reached out instinctively and cupped her elbow as she descended onto the mud-caked asphalt. Feeling a tug low in his belly at her nearness, he had to force himself to let go when she began to straighten her skirt.

      “I recently helped out on an article about all the abandoned railway lines in Montana,” Lydia said with some awe as the four of them stood in a row in the weed-infested gravel driveway. “A hundred or so years ago, this property used to be a feed mill and ran adjacent to a logging camp. Back then, the best way for businesses