A Nice Day for a Cowboy Wedding Read online

  A NEW KIND OF HEAVEN

  She melted into him, easy and pliant, but the oddest thing was he felt a little like he’d melted too. Into her, into the kiss. He wanted his hands in her hair, his skin on her bare skin, and yet some part of him was content with this kiss in fresh air as the sun fell around them.

  Her arms slid around his neck, drawing him closer, as if his arms banded around her weren’t close enough. He forgot about pretty much everything, all the concerns and confusions and worries of the day melted into pleasure, into Cora.

  He was content to learn the taste of her—sweet and bright—with a light brush of tongues. He wanted to exist here where the softness of her skin, of her body, pressed to his uncompromising one felt like a new kind of heaven he’d never experienced.

  Praise for Nicole Helm’s previous romances

  “Sharp, funny, and sinfully sexy—Nicole Helm is my favorite new author! ”—Maisey Yates, New York Times bestselling author

  “The romance unfolds sweetly and believably, with laugh-out-loud moments and romantic scenes . . . A classic small-town contemporary with extra angst, perfect for fans of Susan Mallery and Jill Shalvis.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “[A] deeply moving contemporary . . . The protagonists are refreshingly willing to be upfront about their feelings and listen to each other, and readers will want to revisit their story often.”—Publishers Weekly, STARRED REVIEW

  “Reconciliation is sweet after a rocky road to love in Helm’s exhilarating second Mile High Romance.... There is a lot of depth to this riveting story.”—RT Book Reviews

  Books by Nicole Helm

  Mile High Romances

  Need You Now

  Mess With Me

  Want You More

  A Nice Day for a Cowboy Wedding

  Gallagher & Ivy Romances

  So Wrong It Must Be Right

  So Bad It Must Be Good

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  A Nice Day for a Cowboy Wedding

  NICOLE HELM

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  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

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Epilogue

  Teaser chapter

  ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2018 by Nicole Helm

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-4201-4694-3

  eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-4695-0

  eISBN-10: 1-4201-4695-5

  For my Grandpa Beck, who passed away during the writing of this book. He was the kindest, most self-sacrificing, honorable soul I’ll ever know, and the reason I’ll always believe good, honest, faithful men exist. He once told me he didn’t care for romance novels himself, but he was glad I was writing books with happy endings. So, this one’s for you, Grandpa. (Sorry about the swearing.)

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I owe such a debt of gratitude to my amazing, complex, weird, supportive, wonderful family, who’ve given me such bountiful material to turn into fictional families. This series exists and continues thanks to the hard work and support of my agent, Helen Breitwieser, and my editor, Wendy McCurdy. Thank you to everyone at Kensington whose hard work puts my words into book form. And, as always, my everlasting gratitude to Maisey and Megan, who read and appreciate these worlds that mean so much to me.

  Chapter One

  Cora Preston pulled her car to a stop at the open gates of the Tyler ranch. Despite having spent her entire life in Colorado, she couldn’t believe her eyes.

  She had moved to the small mountain town of Gracely from Denver almost three years ago, but she’d spent most of her time in Gracely. Occasionally, she took the trek up to Mile High Adventures where her sister worked, and there was something soul cleansing about the views from up in the Rockies, looking down at the world below.

  But this . . .

  Green stretched out in waves beyond the sturdy wooden archway. Scattered across the expanse were little black dots she assumed were cattle, then the land covered in all that green began to roll, until far off in the distance gray, rocky, snow-capped peaks reached for the impossibly blue sky.

  Cora breathed through the flutter of nerves. She wasn’t here to admire the surroundings. She was here to plan a wedding.

  It seemed a crazy undertaking when she’d never had a wedding herself, a crazy undertaking when she knew her sister, Lilly, would be ten times better at it than she.

  But Lilly had enough work at Mile High Adventures as PR specialist, plus mother of starting-to-be-mobile twins, and she’d given Cora this job because supposedly Cora had a “natural talent” for planning events.

  Cora thought it was BS, but she wanted to make Lilly proud. She wanted to prove to everyone in her life that she’d grown up in these past few years. No more wallowing in all the ways life could be unfair, no more shrinking from being a hard-ass mother to her twelve-year-old. No more skating by.

  She was reaching for the stars now, or maybe those snow-peaked mountains. Strong, immovable, and majestic.

  She was ready to be majestic.

  The gate was open, as Deb had said it would be. Cora had met the bride-to-be only once, at their initial consultation. Lilly had been there, so it had been much easier for Cora not to be nervous.

  Deb was a sweet, older woman, all her children grown—some even older than Cora herself—who wanted to have the grand wedding she hadn’t had as a young woman. Cora had immediately liked Deb for her clear, no-nonsense strength mixed with her desire to have a whimsical, outdoor spectacle of a wedding.

  “And you are going to be the one to give that to her,” Cora said aloud to herself, taking a deep breath in and out before pressing her foot on the accelerator again.

  The narrow asphalt drive curved its way around, meandering along those green, fenced-in fields, cattle and horses happily grazing in different sections. When the house came into view, she could onl
y stare wide-eyed.

  It looked like a movie. The wood fairly gleamed in the afternoon sunlight, a golden brown, with dominant glass windows reflecting the blue of the sky. The house existed in a cove of sorts, pine trees tall and proud surrounding the house except for the front yard.

  The Tylers had some serious cash.

  But before she could make it to the house that looked more like a fancy mountain resort she’d never be able to afford than a home, she had to stop.

  A man on a horse was blocking the drive, and a cluster of what appeared to be baby cows ambled across.

  Another man on a horse made his way toward her. When she rolled down her window, he tipped his cowboy hat. An actual cowboy hat, like this was a movie or one of the romance novels she’d read that had finally gotten her to wake up about Stephen.

  “Pardon us. Just separating some calves from their mamas,” the man said in a deep, swoon-worthy voice. “We’ll be out of your way in just a moment.” He smiled politely. At least it seemed polite. All she could really make out was his chin and his mouth because the brim of the hat shaded most of his face.

  A real, honest-to-goodness cowboy hat. She knew nothing about cowboys or what they wore, but he might even be wearing chaps.

  Chaps.

  She wanted to giggle. Instead she forced herself to nod. She was a professional here on professional business after all.

  “Can I help you with something?”

  “Oh, I’m Cora Preston.” Which was a stupid thing to say. Why would some ranch hand know who she was? “I-I have a meeting with Deb Tyler.”

  Then his expression did change, at least what she could see of it. His mouth firmed into a grim line. “I don’t suppose this is about the wedding,” he said flatly.

  “Well, yes.” She smiled. She was the face of Mile High Weddings. It was her job to be as charming and professional as Lilly. No matter how intimidating it all seemed.

  The man did not smile back. In fact, he made a noise and a movement, and then he and his horse moved away, going to converse with the man blocking the road.

  Cora stared at them with a frown on her face, but when the one who hadn’t spoken to her looked over his shoulder in her direction, she smiled again. Smile, smile, smile.

  Eventually the little herd of cows was across the road, and the one who hadn’t spoken rode his horse next to the group, seeming to lead them in the right direction. The one who had spoken to her moved his arm toward the house in a kind of follow me gesture.

  Odd. She’d think whoever he was had better things to do than lead her to the house when it was clearly at the end of this long drive, but she inched along until she got to a large concrete pad in front of what she assumed was a garage that had to be bigger than her entire house back in Gracely.

  Grabbing her bag, gripping the shoulder strap in an effort to center and focus herself, she got out of the car.

  The man still sat on his horse, quite a few feet above her. Cora had to tip her head up and shade her eyes against the sun. She opened her mouth to speak, but the horse made an odd noise and Cora startled, which seemed to cause the horse to startle as well.

  “Easy,” the man murmured in a low voice as his hand swept down the horse’s mane. It didn’t calm Cora down any, but it seemed to soothe the horse.

  In a fluid movement Cora could only be mesmerized by, the man swung off the horse and onto his feet in front of her. Even with him on solid ground, she still had to tip her head back to look at him. He was very tall.

  And broad.

  And strong.

  And—

  Get ahold of yourself, Cora.

  “I’ll take you to my mother,” he said gruffly, most of his face still shadowed by the hat.

  “Your mother?” Cora echoed lamely.

  “Deb Tyler. My mother.”

  “Oh!” Oh. Oh. Deb had mentioned her sons were a little bent out of shape about their mother’s remarrying. She’d laughed it off, but Cora knew Deb wanted her sons’ approval. Micah might only be twelve, but Cora couldn’t imagine not wanting him to like whomever she married.

  Not that she thought that was in the cards for her, but it was a nice little fantasy to have.

  With certain, ground-slapping strides, the man started walking toward the house. There was some kind of post next to the garage, and he paused briefly to tie his horse’s reins to it, before walking again.

  In the cute heels she was wearing, on the intricate stone walkway with lots of little dips and crannies, it was hard to keep up with him.

  When she reached the porch where he was waiting for her, he slid the cowboy hat off revealing a thick, brown head of hair that looked to have been recently trimmed. He had dark brown eyes, a sharp nose and cheekbones, one of those square-cut jaws. Broad shoulders. Tall. So dang tall.

  Someone could put him in a Western movie, and she’d believe he was an A-list star. She was downright ready to swoon.

  Except she had a job to do. A really important one. Lilly had stepped into Mile High Adventures over a year ago and not swooned at the very swoon-worthy sight of Brandon Evans, so Cora could be just that calm and with-it.

  The man raised his eyebrows, and Cora realized that while he’d opened the door and gestured her inside, she’d been standing there staring at him.

  Calm and with-it were so not her wheelhouse. But, she stepped inside and let the amazing interior take her mind off Mr. Hot Cowboy.

  Wood and forest green dominated everything in this entryway. A chandelier made up of lanterns and dark metal shaped like horses hung from the high, vaulted ceiling.

  Holy. Moly.

  “I’ll get my mother.”

  Cora nodded, but as he started walking toward the hallway, she thought better of it. “Wait!”

  He turned slowly, looking at her as if he couldn’t figure out what kind of species of bug she was.

  She was the wedding coordinator, and Deb Tyler wanted the perfect wedding. Which included if not enthusiastic, at least cooperative sons. Which meant Cora had to do her best to win this man over.

  “I didn’t get your name.”

  His tight-lipped expression turned into a frown. “Shane,” he said simply.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Shane. I’m so excited to help plan your mother’s special day.” She smiled brightly.

  His mouth went full-on scowl, and he merely grunted before turning back toward the hallway.

  Well, grunting, irritable men was something Cora Preston had learned how to deal with in the past year and a half, and it looked like she was going to be putting that experience to good use.

  * * *

  Shane walked down the main hall toward the back room his mother used as an office. He did his best to get his simmering irritation under wraps, because so far his disapproval of all this nonsense had only served to make Mom dig her heels in harder.

  When she wasn’t in her office, he headed through the back hallway toward the kitchen. “Mom?”

  “Deb, the voice of doom is calling,” Grandma’s wavery voice said from somewhere in the vicinity of the kitchen.

  He stepped into the kitchen to find Mom and Grandma at the small table they never actually ate meals at. Bridal magazines were spread everywhere. Shane tried not to scowl.

  “Your wedding planner is here,” he said as pleasantly as he could manage.

  “Oh, shoot.” Mom glanced at her watch. “I lost track of time. Poor girl. Didn’t scare her off, did you?”

  “Why would I do a thing like that?” he asked innocently.

  Grandma gave her raspy laugh, and Mom rolled her eyes as she got to her feet. “Why indeed,” she murmured loftily. “Where’d you leave her?”

  “In the entryway.”

  Mom started toward the front of the house, and Shane trailed after her, trying to come up with some way to change her mind that wasn’t antagonistic.

  So far everything he’d tried had failed. He’d told her all his suspicions about Ben—that there was no record of his supposed ex-wi
fe, that the man was the laziest ranch hand they’d ever had, that he’d lied about his references, and, most of all, that four months was not enough damn time to know someone and marry him.

  Then there’d been the very foolish conversation where Shane had outright forbidden his mother to get married.

  At every instance Mom went on as if he hadn’t spoken at all.

  His mother was too smart for this, and Shane didn’t understand her insistence on forgetting that. No one in the family thought Ben Donahue was anything other than a hustling no-account. Except the two people who most needed to: Mom and Grandma.

  “Where’s Ben? Was he working the fence line today?” Mom asked, working her way toward the front of the house.

  “I don’t know where he is. Ben made it very clear I wasn’t in charge of him.”

  “Oh, you two.” Mom flung a hand into the air. “Acting like dicks doesn’t make yours any bigger.”

  “Christ, Mom.”

  He’d lived with his mother and grandmother for thirty-two years and still wasn’t used to the frank way they discussed some things a mother and son or grandmother and grandson should never discuss or even be in the same house while discussing.

  Mom approached where he’d left the wedding planner, and Shane felt the same wave of desperation he’d been feeling since Mom had announced her engagement to scheming, lying, thieving Ben Donahue.

  “She’s skittish around horses,” he blurted. “The wedding planner, that is.” If he could stall this whole insane charade, maybe he could prove Ben was only using his mother.

  Mom didn’t even stop. “Good thing I’m not paying her to work my horses.” Mom patted him on the head like he was a little kid, not her thirty-two-year-old son almost a foot taller than her. “Will you unload all that dirt in my truck and take it down to the garden before you head back to the cows?” Then, without waiting for a response, she swept into the entry with grand greetings and apologies for being late.