The Maverick's Bridal Bargain. Christy Jeffries

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      She opened the binder to see that a photo had gotten stuck inside one of the divider pockets. And not just any photo. The photo. All five of the Dalton brothers were handsome. And after hearing about the tragedy of losing their mother, Vivienne was fascinated to find out more about them. She told herself she was interested in learning all their stories, but it was really Cole she stared at, Cole’s story she wanted to hear.

      Something inside of her ached. Maybe it was all the romance novels and bridal magazines pulling at her heartstrings. She’d read her fair share of both, and every once in a while she could forget about the bridezillas and the uninterested grooms and the wedding marketing ploys and wonder if there was such a thing as love at first sight.

      Not for her, of course. Having witnessed the whirlwind of her parents’ marriage, Vivienne was smart enough to want to get to know her future husband for at least a few years before she decided if they were compatible.

      She was also smart enough not to get all worked up by a pair of well-worn jeans and a sexy smirk and a honeyed voice calling her ma’am.

      * * *

      A week later at the Circle D, Cole was in one of the corrals exercising his uncle’s injured horse when a Jetta zipped down the driveway toward the ranch house. As the car approached, he recognized Vivienne behind the wheel and his pulse sped up. Paying attention to the driver instead of where he was going, Cole kept walking straight as the horse rounded the turn. Zorro’s front hoof grazed the side of his boot, causing them both to stumble.

      “Easy, boy,” he said more to himself than to the stallion.

      She was wearing some sort of silky floral dress that wrapped around her curves like a second skin, and her high heels had no business navigating the dirt driveway, which was still fairly muddy after a recent spring rain. Balancing that big binder on her hip, Vivienne used her free hand to carry a tall vase. A strong wind caused the side of her dress to flip open and his lungs froze as he was treated to a full view of her shapely thighs. When she tried to pull her dress back into place, she dropped the binder, its contents spilling out everywhere.

      Quickly, Cole secured the lead rope to the mechanical arm of the hot-walker, then hopped over the fence, mentally kicking himself for initially staring at her like a lovesick calf instead of immediately rushing to her aid. On his way, he picked up scattered papers and pictures of cakes and flowers. The dainty images and carefully handwritten lists made his work-roughened hands look big and coarse, and he quickly shoved the stack at her.

      “Thank you,” she said, not noticing that the notebook she’d just pulled to her chest was covered with mud. “I’m supposed to meet Zach and Lydia here at the ranch and then drive over to check out Maverick Manor as an option for a wedding venue. But I’m running a little early.”

      “You’re getting dirt all over your...” He pointed at the mud now covering the neckline of her dress, then slammed his fingers into his front pockets when he realized he was gesturing toward her breasts. When she pulled the binder closer as if she could shield his inappropriate gaze, he felt his cheeks flame.

      “Do you want to wait for them on the porch?” he asked. He had no idea when Zach and Lydia would get here, and while Cole could rescue windblown papers, he wasn’t much for entertaining guests or making small talk. Racking his brain, he asked himself what his aunt Rita would do if she were home. “Can I get you a drink?”

      Vivienne rotated her slender wrist to glance at her watch. “Actually, if you wouldn’t mind me using the restroom, I could try to clean myself up a little before they get here.”

      “No problem,” he said, taking the tall vase from her. “Follow me.”

      He slowed his pace so that she could better follow him without getting one of her heels stuck in the driveway. His uncle and aunt’s sprawling log ranch house was pretty big, but with Cole’s dad and brothers living there temporarily, he couldn’t vouch for the cleanliness of anyone else’s bathroom but his own.

      He said as much as he led her down the hallway toward the girls’ wing. Then, because he didn’t want her getting the wrong idea about where he was taking her, he added, “We have to walk through here to get to the Jack-and-Jill-style bathroom.”

      “This is your bedroom?” she asked, her gaze focused on the fierce pink sign on the door ordering all boys to keep out.

      “Originally, the two rooms on this side of the house belonged to my cousins Kristen and Kayla before they got married. So I can’t take credit for the decor. All the frills and ruffles and throw pillows were here when I moved in.”

      “That’s good to know.” Vivienne’s playful smile sent an electrical current through his gut. “I had you pegged for more of a roses-and-chintz type of guy, so the daisy quilt and eyelet curtains threw me off for a second.”

      “Roses? Me? And here I thought I was sending out a strong tulip vibe.” He grinned back at her and then continued on toward the bathroom.

      “I think it’s sweet that your masculinity isn’t threatened by a few pastels and floral prints.”

      “Listen, I slept in much worse conditions when I was deployed in the Marine Corps.”

      She didn’t respond, so he turned back to see if she was still following him. Vivienne had paused right outside the bathroom door, her head tilted. “You were in the Marines?”

      “You seem surprised,” Cole replied.

      “In my line of work, I try to never be too surprised about anyone.” She crossed over the threshold and set her muddy binder down on the tile counter. “Although, I had assumed that you were just a cowboy.”

      “Just a cowboy?”

      “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant like a full-time job. Your brother Zach mentioned that he’s been so busy working here with your uncle and helping your father find a new ranch. I saw the picture of you with your brothers dressed up in—” she gestured toward his daily uniform of boots, jeans and a flannel shirt “—all that cowboy gear and I figured that you guys all worked together.”

      “Some of us work harder than others,” he said as he winked. Then he wanted to kick himself for flirting when nobody was even around to witness it. Well, nobody except Vivienne, who seemed way too serious and professional to engage in harmless bantering. Still, she had made the first joke, so maybe he’d read her wrong. “If it’s any consolation, you were right and I’m now a full-time cowboy.”

      “So then you’re not a Marine anymore?”

      “Well, you know what they say. Once a Marine, always a Marine.” He saw the confusion creasing the smooth skin of her forehead. “I put in my time and was honorably discharged.”

      “Oh. How long did you serve?” Vivienne focused on him when almost any woman he knew would’ve already directed her full attention to her own reflection in the nearby mirror, worrying how she would get all that dirt off her pretty dress.

      Cole was surprised by how natural it would’ve felt to hitch his hip up onto the countertop and shoot the breeze with her. Five minutes ago, he’d been dreading talking to her about anything more substantial than whether she preferred ice in her sweet tea. Yet the lady who had at first appeared to be all business now seemed completely at ease making small talk in such close and personal quarters.

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