“After-party at Clayborne’s,” Violet shouted when the crowd had thinned down considerably. “Everybody’s welcome.”

Hunter’s bar was a short walk down Hale Street, at the other end of the block.

Cole looked down at Sierra, and her eyes were lit up with unmistakable interest.

“You want to go?” he confirmed.

“Do you mind?” she asked, her arched brows shooting up over the large brown doe eyes that could convince him to do just about anything tonight.

“I don’t mind.”

The lights got brighter, and the cleanup crew appeared at the opposite end of the room, unobtrusively and efficiently picking up glasses and crumb-covered cake plates and removing the centerpieces table by table.

“Guess our time’s up here,” Sierra said as they retrieved her purse. “I’ve never been so happy not to have to clean. My feet are screaming.”

“We can stop at your apartment on the way so you can change,” he said, knowing she lived across the street from the hotel.

“You not only look good in a suit but you’re brilliant.” There was a sparkle in her eyes as she said it, and an image flashed in his head of her with that look, naked, peering up from beneath him…

As they turned toward the ballroom door, her mom, who Cole had met at the beginning of the reception, approached, effectively chasing the thought away. “Are you and Dad going to join us at Clayborne’s?” Sierra asked her.

Tammy Lowell, slender like all three of her children and dressed in a flattering floor-length dress of silver and sparkles, blew out a sigh that said she was exhausted. “I don’t think I have it in me. We need to touch base with the hotel people, and then I think making it up one level to our room is the last thing I can handle.”

“You’ve had a long day,” Sierra said. “Everything turned out perfect, don’t you think?”

Her mom nodded with a tired smile. “Kennedy thanked us several times. As long as she’s happy, I’m happy. Thanks for all your help, honey.”

The two women hugged, and then, before Cole knew what was happening, Mrs. Lowell threw her arms around him and squeezed. “Cole, we hope to see you again, whether you’re a fake date or a real date.”

He forced an obligatory laugh. The glaring truth was that he wasn’t the kind of guy any mom wanted her daughter to bring home. “Yes, ma’am. Pleasure meeting you. Have a safe flight back.”

When their embrace ended, Mr. Lowell, who’d shot Cole covert suspicious looks throughout the reception, was at his side, hand extended. “Cole.”

“Mr. Lowell, great party tonight. It was good to finally meet you after hearing Sierra talk about you for so long.”