“I know what you need.” Callie turned the conversation in a one-eighty, giving her mental whiplash.

  Okay. That caught her off guard and right now her ears were wide open for ideas.

  Juniper crossed the room and slowly peeled off a large swath of cloth that draped over her wedding gown. She’d assembled the last of the details two nights ago.

  Early morning light sent a flourish of sparkles across the heart-shaped bodice.

  Lace like a spider’s web, and just as delicate, draped over the open cleavage area and a mile of milky silk cascaded to the floor to puddle in a beautiful flourish.

  “I don’t want to be the crazy cat lady, Carol.” Juniper tossed herself down on the couch pushed up against the back wall of her office and let the warmth of the comfy handknitted blanket scrunch around her.

  “But a girl has to have her standards, right? I want the white gown and beautiful wedding cake, but I want the happily-ever-after that comes with it too. Something that lasts. What if it never happens?”

  “What makes you think that it won’t happen?”

  Good question. “Only the fact that every date I’ve been on in the last two…no, three…years has been one fatal attraction after another.”

  Callie laughed softly.

  “Don’t laugh. It’s true.”

  “Unless you go on dates with a silencer and a 9mm, I’d say you’re probably exaggerating.”

  Juniper sighed and let the blanket slide off as she stood. “Maybe.”

  “STOP.” Callie’s command blasted in her ear and Juniper pulled the phone away before slowly drawing it closer.

  “What the heck?”

  “Now I know. You’re looking at your dress again, aren’t you, and you’ve been working on your scrapbook? Yeah, you gotta get out of your own head, Jun. You can’t meet anyone if you’re stuck in your office working on your one-day wedding.”

  Ouch. “Wow. Lay it on me thick, why don’t you.”

  “You’ve been working on the perfect wedding forever.”

  “Sounds about right,” she offered with a soft laugh of her own. “So what was your genius plan? You said you know what I needed.”

  “We need a night of margaritas, chocolate and maybe some bar hopping.”

  She didn’t need to think that one through. “You had me at margaritas.”

  “We can sign off of work early tonight. How’s that?”

  She huffed. “Which translates to drinking way too much on a Friday night!”

  “Yeah. Pretty much. Put some positive juju into the cosmos so we can get the ball rolling on your tight schedule and get you a man willing to spank that ass.”

  She spied that taunting red envelope again. “Let’s do it. We’ll also burn your list.”

  Her list had saved her from quite a few mistakes, thank you very much. But Callie had a point. Unless she wanted to be a spinster and die alone with only a scrapbook of wedding ideas, she needed to ease up. It was something to consider anyway.

  She needed that second cinnamon bun after all. Juniper threw open her door and glanced at the clock. Almost nine.

  “You on your way?”

  “Just pulled out of the drive. Be there in just a few.”

  “Okay,” she heard herself mumble and she ground to an abrupt halt that had her feet skidding across the polished floor.

  The sexiest set of blue eyes zeroed in on her from beneath the brim of a Stetson and she froze to the floorboards.

  Tall, dark, and all Texan just entered her world.

  That smile. The way he tipped his hat to a passing stranger on the sidewalk.

  Holy fuck, her thighs instantly clenched and the bolt of heat that shot through her was as real as the man now looking back at her.

  She mentally added another bullet point that shot straight to the top of her perfect man list: Must be a well-packing cowboy.

  CHAPTER SIX

  All the Sundays she’d spent as a child watching old cowboy movies rushed her memory. He was nothing like what she saw on TV, he was better.

  Way better.

  Tall, broad across the shoulders like Atlas ready to carry the world, and she not too lean around the waist.

  From his spot outside her window, he nodded and spoke to someone now just out of view from where she stood. She bet his accent dropped panties.

  A silly question flitted across her mind. Did all cowboys wear spurs like in the movies? She had to wonder. She could not see his feet, but she bet the last dollar he at least had on boots.

  The cowboy, dressed in all black, stood on the sidewalk outside her door, a stark contrast to the bright sunshine that poured over him. He looked as out of place as a snowman in the desert.

  From behind him a woman stepped out of the car and linked arms with her cowboy, all smiles and red silky hair that spilled down the back of a perfectly flowy sundress draped over a gorgeous body made for Hollywood.

  Shit.

  And just like that, all the stars in Juniper’s eyes faded to dull little clusters of dashed dreams. Of course he had a fiancée, silly. After all, why else would they be here? The cosmos got it all twisted up. She wanted love and got the perfect man but who was already taken.

  Careful what you wish for, Juniper.

  Oh, well. She could at least dream.

  As the car that dropped them off pulled away, she caught sight of a poof of blonde hair and then there she was. Stacey Banners with a handful of brochures and crossing the street on pencil-thin stilettos.

  Juniper narrowed her eyes into tiny slits. What the hell? She gasped. She wouldn’t. Would she?

  Let her step in a manhole and fall to the center of the earth.

  Juniper scowled and bent a little for a better view out the front windows.

  For real? Had the woman no shame?

  Her side of the street meant her client.

  Perched at the top of the stairs Juniper held her breath as she looked on in horror.

  He took the brochure.

  “Please don’t go. Please don’t go.” Juniper squeezed her eyes closed and chanted.

  Action. She needed to take action. But what? Just because they looked like a newly engaged couple didn’t mean they were. How would it look if she dashed outside and tried to steal them back to her side? She could already see the headlines:

  WEDDING PLANNERS DUKE IT OUT OVER THE DUKE

  Her stomach tied in knots and her breath froze in her chest.

  He turned her way.

  Did her silver lining just regain its shine? Things were looking up.

  Juniper straightened and waited for what felt like a century before the tips of his boots came into view through the window from where she stood.

  Clutching the railing, she willed him to put one foot in front of the other. “That’s right, come this way, Mr. Perfect. You want to walk through my door, baby,” Juniper whispered a little breathlessly.

  Her heart went from flat-lining to OMG territory. Her little wish this morning worked! She wouldn’t have to let her workers go or close shop after all. Maybe she didn’t want to stare at that particular silver lining too closely for risk of losing it all together.

  She danced in a circle, fist-pumping the air. “Oh yeah! Take that, Ms. Stacey Banners.”

  “Hello, ma’am. I’m Marshall Blackwood.”

  All male. Deep, rich, and all sensually Southern and her body liked it. A lot.

  She startled at the sound of the baritone voice that made her think of late summer night walks along the river and smooth whiskey. She calmed and hoped he hadn’t witnessed her little jig. After a couple of breaths, she turned on her heel.

  He’d moved faster than she had anticipated and she somehow missed the jingle of the bell overtop her door. Those long legs of his ate up the distance and now there he stood. In her shop. Looking her square in the eyes.

  Clean-shaven, strong-looking jaw, lush, thick lashes made to make a woman jealous and her favorite part of a man—shoulders that looked broad enough to carry the world. Or just her world.

  Funny thing. That little detail came in at number four on her list.

  Black, tailored slacks encased perfectly thick thighs and a bulge. She was such a perv for letting her eyes wander, but damn, what a man.

  A man that looked straight out of a romance novel reached up and palmed his Stetson to reveal midnight black hair a little wild on top and neat and tidy along the sides. He moved closer.

  The thud of his heavy steps jarred her out of her own brain and put a fire in her legs.

  Boots, no spurs to be found. She smiled to herself.

  If looks could freeze a woman’s brain it happened to her. Fate liked to mess with her that way. As she came to the last stair, three things came to be in that one second.

  She’d been so preoccupied with her rival the lack of shoes didn’t even hit her radar.

  The lack of even the most basic of makeup. And that wedding planners couldn’t fly.

  She had less than a millisecond to wish the floor would swallow her whole.

  But no such luck. Instead, warm muscular arms wrapped around her as a hard chest cushioned her fall when she missed the last stair. Best way to meet new clients: Your nose buried in their taut pecs.

  She had to admit this option felt infinitely better than the floor eating her whole would have.

  “You must be Juniper Winter?” His chest rumbled with humor and sent a shiver straight through her.

  Fingers wound around thick biceps, Juniper dared to raise her gaze high, and then a little higher until she found bright blue eyes lit with mirth and full lips pulled into a curious smile.

  She forced a smile of her own and tried to push up, move away. Put some distance between her red face and his gaze. He didn’t let any of that happen.

  He held her a little too tight, a little too close, and smelled a whole lot like a sinful temptation in boots.

  “As introductions go,” he whispered close to her ear. “I think that was the best one I’ve ever had.”

  Somewhere between her misfortune and him saving her, his hat ended up on the ground. She slowly pulled from his arms and the feel of his hands leaving her body nearly made her whimper.

  He bent to retrieve it and her face burned brighter.

  “Umm…thank you. I’m not normally so klutzy.”

  “That’s all right, Juniper. May I call you Juniper?” He tilted his head forward a bit at his inquiry.

  A rarity and completely swoon-worthy. God, save her. What movie set had she stepped onto?

  This man and his manners certainly had her lady parts all fired up. Her heart needed to take a back seat in this conversation because since he walked in her door, it sat firmly in her throat at a steady one hundred miles an hour.

  The cologne he wore screamed money but his eyes said he enjoyed the small things in life. Coffee, good conversation, slow, heated kissing on an abandoned beach and wouldn’t you know it, she knew the perfect one.

  Slow your roll, Juniper. You’re reading into this way too much.

  “I’m sorry you have me at a disadvantage, but yes, by all means. Juniper is fine.” She put her hand out between them.

  “It seems it’s my turn to apologize. I’m Marshall Blackwood.”

  “Marshall,” she repeated.

  His deep, smooth voice held a hint of a drawl.

  His larger hand engulfed hers. Warm from the leather glove he slipped off seconds ago and a little rough, which contradicted the dapper look he sported.

  “And this is Stella, my⁠—”

  “Fiancée,” the woman offered before the cowboy could get the word out.

  They shook hands. “It’s nice to meet you, Stella. I’m happy you are both here.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “Please, won’t you make yourselves comfortable? I normally—actually never—greet clients barefooted.”

  “That’s all right. I think I’ll join you. I’ve had these things on since four this morning.”

  “Oh, wow. Go you.”

  Stella reached out and touched her shoulder as she slipped her stocking feet from her shoes with a moan of delight. “We had to get here as quickly as possible.”

  Juniper motioned them to the round table reserved for onboarding clients. Off to the left clients could view a collection of wall hangings featuring past brides and grooms Juniper had worked.

  “Can I offer you a coffee? Or tea maybe? I also have some amazing cinnamon buns if you’re interested.”

  Marshall smiled and those piercing blue eyes met hers. Like instant Jell-O, her knees did a funny little wobble. She propped a hand on the back of the chair and tried to act unaffected.

  “Two for two. Both are my weaknesses. Coffee and sweets. Sadly, I don’t think we have that much time and we’d like to jump right in. But thank you, Juniper. Maybe another time?”

  The way he said her name sent shivers through her body. With an easy drawl and just enough heat to make her wonder if he said it that way special just for her. But of course, that was only her overheated imagination. The man was here to get married after all. But still, she’d be fantasizing about his voice when she got home tonight.

  Stella gave a soft laugh. “You can’t have a pot of coffee around him for long. You’ll need one for him and then another for everybody else.”

  “Is that so? Kindred hearts you and me. According to my best friend, I drink enough to sustain a whole rock band on a world tour.”

  Her hopefully new client pushed up from her chair. “Do you mind? I love wedding dresses. All that silk and lace. Can I see the ones you have over there?”

  “Yes, by all means, please.”

  Juniper watched a moment as the bride-to-be made her way to the opposite side of the shop. She examined the sample wedding dresses fitted to wire mannequins. When she designed the whole layout to her business, she knew that feature would set the tone for every client meeting.

  Classy and cozy yet functional. She had samples of everything the client needed on hand.

  Sample dresses she created and sewed for a jumping-off point. Maybe one day she would even branch out and offer specially handmade dresses. Next to that, a kitchen for menu sampling. Binders of any and all ideas and combinations of bridesmaid’s dresses. Books jam-packed with photos of flowers and arrangements and yet another one of every possible cake imaginable and then some.

  Stella seemed to appreciate her efforts from how she took snapshots of a few items in the ring binders Juniper had laid out at different stations.

  “Don’t mind her,” Marshall drew out. “She can’t sit still longer than five minutes.”

  “That’s quite all right. It’s what they are there for, after all.” Stella turned her chair a little to face her clients and tucked her feet beneath the chair.

  “When did you two get engaged?”

  Marshall opened his mouth to speak but the woman spoke first, coming up behind him to rest her hands on his shoulders. She gave a quick squeeze and a nudge before taking the seat next to him.

  “We’ve come an awfully long way to see you and were hoping you could help us pull together a plush wedding. Something spectacular like Gretchen Stewart’s.”

  Her plan had worked! She wanted to do another dance but curbed her enthusiasm. “Ahh. I think I can help with that. What do you have in mind? There are a few mansions for rent as venues overlooking the Pacific. If we hurry, that is. Things are booking up rather quickly.”

  She finally found a way to beat the socks off that stuffy Stacey Banners.

  “There’s no need for that. Something simple will do.”

  “Nonsense, Marshall Blackwood.” Stella playfully swatted at Marshall’s hands where he had them folded on the table. She couldn’t help but notice the way his fiancée rested her hands the same and the fact she wore no engagement ring. Interesting.

  Juniper didn’t know if she should jump in before any rumbling went on. She’d seen it a time or two when the groom didn’t understand the magic of a dream wedding for the bride-to-be.

  She didn’t want to risk him getting up and walking out and taking her one miracle with them.

  “You said you traveled a ways? Where are you from?”

  “Houston. So you can see why we’re hoping you can fit us in on your tight schedule. I’m sure you’re booked after what we saw of your skills with Gretchen.” Marshall took out a leather wallet that looked more expensive than her entire wardrobe, and slid a black card across the table. “I’m willing to pay you whatever it takes to hire you.”

  Her brows shot up and her mind raced. “We haven’t even gone over the details of what you are wanting. Would you like to talk about it, see my packages and pick which is right for you? Or at least, let me know the date you have picked and I can help you decide which package fits best for each season.” Unlike what she did with Gretchen, she would be able to charge full price with this client, but fair.

  “July thirty-first.”

  Her eyes widened. Make that double the price.

  “Holy Crap!” She would have to pawn all her current work off on her assistant. Gran’s birthday party. She ticked through a million little details in a blink of an eye, shuffling things around to make room for everything that would need her attention. Dresses, preferences, invitations, flowers, the cake. Can’t forget the cake. Bridesmaids and all that encompassed. The list went on. And in Houston. She’d have to account for travel time.

  Oh boy.

  Marshall cleared his throat from beside her and nodded while Stella sat beside him, her face scrunched up, prepared for her to stand up and show them the door. Or at least that’s how she read the look of unease that claimed both of their expressions.

  Truth be told, the idea tempted her a little. The sheer amount of work that would go into a wedding five months out could leave a mark or two on the nerves. But one in two weeks and on a grand scale?

  No. Not even two weeks. She did a quick count of the days. “Thirteen days.” She checked her watch. “We’ve already lost too much time today.” She absently ran through the miles of mental checklists in her mind.

  “You want a wedding pulled together for the last day of the month? Is that a special day for you?”

  “His birthday.” Stella patted Marshall’s hands.