Finn Crawford was living the dream.
Granted, his father, Maximilian, had gone a little crazy. The old man was intent on paying a matchmaker to marry off all six of his sons. If that wasn’t nuts, Finn didn’t know what was.
This wasn’t the 1800s. It was modern-day Montana, and the Crawfords were…comfortable. If that sounded like something a rich man might say about his family, then it was probably because it was true. Finn’s family was indeed wealthy, and Finn himself wasn’t exactly terrible-looking. Quite the opposite, if the women who’d been ringing Viv Dalton—the matchmaker in question—were to be believed. More important, he was a decent guy. He tried, anyway.
Plus, Finn loved women. Women were typically much more open than men. Kinder and more authentic. He loved their softness and the way they committed so much to everything, whether it was caring for a stray puppy or running a business. Show him a woman who wore a deep red lipstick and her heart on her sleeve, and he was a goner. At the ripe old age of twenty-nine, Finn had already fallen in love more times than he could count.
So the very notion that he’d need any help in the marriage department would have been completely laughable, if he’d had any intention of tying the knot. Which he did not.
Why would he, when Viv Dalton was being paid to toss women in his direction? His dad had picked up the entire Crawford ranch—all six of his sons and over a thousand head of cattle—and moved them from Dallas to Rust Creek Falls, Montana, for this asinine pretend version of The Bachelor. The way Finn saw it, he’d be a fool not to enjoy the ride.
And enjoying it, he had been. A little too much, according to Viv.
“Finn, honestly. You’ve dated a different woman nearly every week for the past three months.” The wedding planner eyed him from across her desk, which was piled high with bridal magazines and puffy white tulle. Sitting inside her wedding shop was like being in the middle of a cupcake.
“And they’ve all been lovely.” Finn stretched his denim-clad legs out in front of him and crossed his cowboy boots at the ankle. “I have zero complaints.”
Beside him, Maximilian sighed. “I have a lot of complaints. Specifically, a million of them where you’re concerned, son.”
Finn let the words roll right off him. After all, paying someone a million dollars to find wives for all six Crawford brothers hadn’t been his genius idea. Maximilian had no one to blame but himself.
“Mr. Crawford, I assure you I’m doing my best to find Finn a bride.” Viv tucked a wayward strand of blond hair behind her ear and folded her hands neatly on the surface of her desk. All business. “In fact, I believe I’ve set him up with every eligible woman in Rust Creek Falls.”
“All of them?” Finn arched a brow. This town was even smaller than he’d thought it was. It would have taken him a lifetime to go through the entire dating pool back in Dallas. He should know—he’d tried.
Vivienne gave him a tight smile. “Every. Last. One.”
“Okay, then I guess we’re done here. You gave it your best shot.” Finn stood. He’d miss the girlfriend-of-the-week club, but at least his father would be forced to accept the fact that he wasn’t about to get engaged to any of the fine female residents of Rust Creek Falls.
Finn placed his Stetson on his head, set to go. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Sit back down, son.” Maximilian didn’t raise his voice, but his tone had an edge to it that Finn hadn’t heard since the time he’d “borrowed” his father’s truck to go mudding with his high school buddies back in tenth grade.
That little escapade had ended with Maximilian’s luxury F-150 stuck in a ditch and Finn mucking out stalls every weekend for the rest of the school year.
Of course Finn was an adult now, not a stupid teenager. He made his own choices, certainly when it came to his love life. But he loved his dad, and since the Crawfords were all business partners in addition to family, he didn’t want to rock the boat. Not over something as ridiculous as this.
“Sure thing, Dad.” He lowered himself back into the frilly white chair with its frilly lace cushion.
Maximilian sat a little straighter and narrowed his gaze at Viv Dalton. “Are you forgetting what’s at stake?”
She cleared her throat. “No, sir. I’m not.”
A look of warning passed from Finn’s father toward the wedding planner, and she gave him a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.
Finn’s gut churned. What the hell was that about?
Damn it.
Knowing his dad, he’d gone and upped the ante behind Finn’s back. When Maximilian ran into problems, he had a tendency to write a bigger check to make them go away.
Finn sighed. “I’m no longer sure entirely what’s going on here, but I think it might be time for this little matchmaking project to end. Half of us are already married.”
One by one, Finn’s brothers Logan, Xander and Knox had become attached. It was uncanny, really. None of them had ended up with women of Viv’s choosing, but they’d coupled up all the same. The way he saw it, his dad should be thrilled. The Crawford legacy would live on, Finn’s bachelor status notwithstanding.
Maximilian shook his head. “Absolutely not. We need Viv’s help now more than ever. It’s not going to be easy to make matches for you, Hunter and Wilder. Hunter hasn’t so much as looked at another woman since his wife died. Wilder is just…well, Wilder. And you can’t seem to focus on one woman to save your life. If you’re not careful, son, you’re going to wind up old, alone and lonely. Just like me.”
A bark of laugher escaped Finn before he