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“They don’t seem to think so.”

Some of her sadness melted into humor. “Imagine that.”

He wouldn’t laugh. It wasn’t funny. He took protecting his familyveryseriously, and yet something about the way she both thought it was sweet and sarcastically agreed with his family’s not wanting to be protected made him want to smile back at her, to say more things to her.

This woman who’d dragged him into Benson to witness his mother square dancing of all damn things. Who smiled at him and teased him, gently. This woman he didn’t know a thing about except that she was beautiful and apparently had a twelve-year-old kid. Hellion kid at that.

“You really have a twelve-year-old?”

“Really, truly. What? Does that wig you out? Or did you have a question to ask me? Maybe to make sure you’re not Ben Donahue-ing things yourself.”

“For starters you’re not older than me.”

“But you could be ten years older than me, or does it only matter when the woman is the one who’s older?”

He wasn’t about to touchthat. “Secondly, I haven’t asked you to marry me.”

She pretended to ponder that, and his eyes should be following that rat bastard Donahue instead of the subtle curve of Cora’s mouth, yet he couldn’t quite look away from her. Flirting with him when he tended to be stuffy and gruff at best.

When was the last time a woman had flirted with him without him making the first move? Applying some charm—the kind he kept hidden way down deep.

The kind he should absolutely not bring out here and now when more important than smiling at or flirting with this pretty woman was his mother’s safety and future happiness.

“But you seem like such the type to believe in love at first sight and whirlwind romances that end in quick elopements.” She looked innocently at him from behind her eyelashes. “I thought for sure a proposal was coming.”

“Well, if you want to plan our wedding instead of my mother’s, I’d consider it.”

She laughed, pretty and bright, and way too intoxicating. When was the last time he’d made anyone laugh? He was usually earning groans and reproaches from his siblings, or good-natured go-to-hells when he got a little too bossy.

“I’m going to plan the best wedding I possibly can for your mother, because I think she deserves it. And, because I trust her judgment on the man she wants to marry.” Cora’s gaze followed the whirl and twirl of Mom and Ben, and she chewed thoughtfully on her lip.

Shane forced his gaze away from the sight of it.

Cora took a deep breath and let it out. “But if you ever show me any evidence he’s hurting her, really, truly dangerous, or a threat, I’ll quit.” She nodded firmly. “I know she’s not my mother, and I don’t have a vested interest, but I won’t be party to a man’s hurting a woman out of viciousness.”

She said it emphatically, a little too emphatically, like she’d had personal experience with men hurting women out of viciousness. He wanted to personally eviscerate whatever man might have hurt her.

But Cora wasn’t his responsibility. So, he had to focus on what was. “All right. I guess I’ll have to prove it to you both then.”

She smiled sadly. “I don’t think I’ve ever hoped for someone’s failure more.”

For the first time since his mother had announced her engagement, he hoped it a little himself.

Chapter Five

It was only noon, and Cora already felt like she’d run a marathon. She had thirty minutes to eat lunch, then she was meeting Deb at the bakery to discuss cakes, then she had to pick Micah up from basketball camp—which he’d promised not to bail on again.

Tori had agreed to give Micah a quick rock-climbing lesson after camp, and although the thought scared Cora down to hersoul, she had a handful of vendors she needed to call today, and rock climbing would keep Micah occupied until dinnertime.

Then she promised herself she’d shut off wedding planning mind and focus on Micah. Maybe they could cook together. Micah liked that.

But thoughts of cooking turned to thoughts of vendors who would be able to offer a reception-worthy spread of food at the Tyler ranch.

It turned out planning a wedding was hard, continual work even when it wasn’t your own. But she liked it, which was a surprise to her. She’d wanted to do it because it sounded doable with her limited work skills. She hadn’t expected to get into it.

But she was into it. For the first time in her life she felt vested in something outside of herself or her son, and it felt . . . amazing.

She worked on putting together a quick sandwich in the kitchenette of the Mile High Adventures offices. As an arm of this company, she was sharing space, but Lilly already had grand plans for a future office just for the wedding side of things.