Cole fell into the short line, his mind skipping forward to the reception, when he would dance with Sierra, touch Sierra. Dancing wasn’t his thing, but it did have its benefits, and he was damn sure it would be the highlight of the night, torture or not.

In his peripheral vision, he noticed someone heading his way, and he turned to find the man he assumed was Sierra’s father. The guy, in his early sixties, he’d guess, was just about as tall as Cole and had a full head of brown hair. He wore a black tux and had a commanding presence, as if he owned the place—or was paying for this party.

“Cole?” The man held his hand out as soon as Cole nodded in acknowledgment. “Wayne Lowell, Sierra’s dad. I understand you’re accompanying her to the reception.”

“Yes, sir.”

As he gave the guy a firm handshake, he wanted to tell himself this wasn’t important, that he wasn’t really “with” Sierra, and therefore there was no pressure in meeting her parents, but he couldn’t quite convince himself of that. Even though they weren’t a couple, he worked for her, and he didn’t want to make Sierra look bad in any way.

Cole’s shoulders tensed as he endeavored not to say anything stupid. He wasn’t good at small talk or meeting a girl’s parents, avoided both as much as possible.

“She asked me to come check on you and apologize for her not coming out to say hello. Those girls…” Mr. Lowell shook his head. “They look breathtaking to me, every last one of them, but they’re in there adjusting their makeup, checking out their hair for the tenth time, fussing over every last thing. As women do.”

“As women do,” Cole said, not that he’d know personally. His mom had always been practical about her appearance, taking care of it but never fussy. He had no sisters, only one female cousin, and when it came to the women he spent time with, he never let it get that intimate that he’d know how they lived.

“I understand you agreed to come last minute,” Mr. Lowell said. “Appreciate you helping her out.” Cole listened for some kind of judgment or disapproval in the man’s voice but didn’t detect any.

“No problem,” Cole said, then reached deep for his rusty conversation skills. “How long are you in town for?”

“We fly back to Arizona on Monday. We’ve been here for a week and I’m going to need a month’s vacation to recover from all the wedding prep.”

“Seems like a lot of work,” Cole said, thinking how stressed out Sierra had been all week. She’d taken the day off yesterday, as well, which she didn’t do often, if ever. It seemed to him, if you wanted to get married, elopement was the way to go.