Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

"I need a husband."

Cassandra Brown dropped her purse onto the bar countertop of the Jackson Family Distillery tasting room—or Jack's, as it was locally known—next to her best friend, Charlie. The faded leather bag made a loud thunk as it hit the thick oak. As stressful as her life was right now, she could take solace in knowing the massive amount of legal documents relating to Gran's will doubled as a defensive device. If she kept the damn thing in her purse, it would come in handy as a mallet should she ever be mugged.

"Jeez, Cassie. What do you have in that thing? A ton of bricks?" Delta Jackson, Charlie's younger brother, poked at her bag with a straw from his position behind the bar.

Smacking the plastic drink piece away, Cassie gave him her best death glare. Stupid jerk grinned back.

"Go away, Del. No, wait. Make me a dirty vodka martini, heavy on the dirty, and then go away."

Sensual full lips she did not in the least think of as sexy—nope, no she did not—curled.

"Your wish is my command, Sassy Cassie."

"I hate that stupid nickname," she groaned as he turned to make her drink.

"Try being saddled with a boy's name your entire life." Charlie tossed her dark brown hair over her shoulder and took a drink from the bubbly concoction in front of her. A gin and tonic, her drink of choice. "I think when I was born, Dad refused to believe I was actually a girl."

Cassie chuckled. Lawrence Jackson had been a career military man with an odd sense of humor. Somehow, the man managed to get his sweet wife to agree to name their kids Alfa, Bravo, Charlie, and Delta. She wondered what the couple would have done if they'd had a fifth child. Echo would have been difficult to live with. Then again, somebody out there named their kid Hashtag so…

Charlie shook her head. "Like Dad didn't have enough stupid boys."

"Standing two feet away, Charlie," Delta said with a sigh, his hands weaving magic as he poured. The man may get on her very last nerve, but watching him make a drink was mesmerizing. Cassie could understand why half of the Kismet population went gaga over the youngest Jackson sibling. Not that she ever participated in Delta ogling. Much.

She chuckled at the familiar exchange. "Sibling trouble?"

Charlie pointed one long finger, adorned with dark purple polish. "Oh no, no. Stop trying to change the topic to my idiot brothers." Del scratched his temple with his middle finger, but Charlie ignored him. "I want to hear more about the intriguing declaration you stormed in here with."

Wrinkling her nose, Cassie crossed her arms over her chest. "I didn't storm."

Del gave her a wink while twirling a silver shaker with the expertise of one who'd been slinging drinks for years. "You sure did, Sassy. But don't worry, you look sexy when you're all huffy."

She tugged her mass of riotous brown curls away from her face, knowing full well the stress of her pervious meeting left her looking frazzled. "Oh good, because that's what every woman worries about when she's having legitimate problems. How sexy she is. Thank you, Delta, for reducing my concerns to my appearance."

A glorious martini glass filled her vision as Del slid the drink in front of her. Tiny flecks of ice swirled in the murky liquid. Dirty as a sinner on Saturday . Just how she liked it. Taking a tentative sip, she sighed in pleasure as the briny flavor exploded over her taste buds, the smooth vodka taking on the flavor of the olives. Oh, yes. This is what she needed.

Too bad you aren't the only thing I need, vodka. Life would be so much easier.

"You want to elaborate on that needing a husband thing or…?" Charlie waved her hand in the air between them.

At her friend's question and impatient stare, Cassie sighed. Her mouth opened to spill, but then she noticed Del still standing on the other side of the bar, listening intently to every word. "Don't you have customers to help or something?"

Del winked, white teeth blinding her as he gave her what she'd heard a few women call his panty-dropper smile. "We just opened. No one's here yet. I'm all yours, Sassy."

A quick glance around revealed him to be right. Jack's sat empty save for her, Charlie, and Del. The distillery/tasting room was a staple of Kismet, Colorado, and usually had a packed house every night, but it was early, and the after-work crowd generally didn't show up until six. Even the jukebox in the corner that normally blasted out tunes from open to close sat silent.

"One." She held up a finger. "Don't call me that. Two, I need to talk to your sister, so go away."

"And three?" He bobbed his dark brown eyebrows.

She gritted her teeth as the smug jerk stood there waiting for the response she was required to give him since losing a game of poker three months ago. He knew how much it annoyed her, but a bet was a bet. Maybe if she said it, he'd go away.

"Three…" She let out a breath of exasperation. "This is the best martini I've ever had and you, Delta Jackson, are the god of all bartenders. How I bow at your mighty mixing skills, oh great one."

"You forgot to curtsy this time, but I'll forgive it since I also want to hear about this husband problem."

She took a deep drink of her martini to keep herself from spouting some very colorful four-letter words in Del's direction. He was her best friend's brother, after all. She had to try to be nice.

"Go away, Del." His sister reached over the bar to smack the back of his head.

"Ow!" He rubbed the offended spot. "What was that for?"

"You know what. You're being an ass. Now go away so I can talk to my best friend in private."

"Fine, but I'm only going because I have to grab more ice from the back. Not because you're the boss of me."

Charlie snorted. "Please, I'm the boss of all of you."

Charlie was the third of the four Jackson siblings, ahead of Del but behind the twins, Ace and BJ. However, being the only girl meant she had the ability to wrap her brothers around her finger when she wanted. Cassie had seen it numerous times over the years. In her opinion, Charlie was indeed the boss of her brothers.

"Then I'm taking a ten, boss." Del gave a smart-ass salute. Shifting his gaze to Cassie, he winked again. "If you need a husband, I'm always available. Enjoy your drink."

With that, he turned and headed into the back.

Marry Del, ha! She wasn't that desperate. Or stupid.

"Ignore my idiot brother."

"I always do."

Charlie chuckled. "Now, spill it."

Grabbing the toothpick from her drink, Cassie swirled the stick in the liquid before bringing it up to her lips to pop one of the pimento-stuffed olives into her mouth. She chewed, enjoying the salty flavor before answering.

"I met with Gran's lawyer today."

Charlie's face softened, and she covered Cassie's hand with her own. "Oh sweetie, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were hearing the will today. I would have gone with you."

Thankful for her friend's endless support, Cassie shook her head. "No, it's okay. I was fine on my own. I didn't want to bother you."

"It's never a bother to be there for you. You know that."

She did. Charlie had been great these past few months through all the late-night calls and tears. Her friend stood by her side when she had to move her grandmother into hospice care, literally holding her up as she made the heart-wrenching decision to take her grandmother off life support after the doctor announced a lack of brain activity. Charlie was closer than a friend. She was a sister at heart, and Cassie wouldn't have made it through the loss of her grandmother without her.

"I know." Cassie squeezed her best friend's hand, pouring all her thanks into the action.

"What did the will say? Is there a problem?"

Her stomach sank. "Yes. A big one. Gran put a…stipulation in her will."

"A stipulation? Regarding what?"

Taking a deep breath, Cassie clutched her friend's hand tighter. "Regarding me and the ownership of the house."

The house. Her home. The only home she had ever truly known. The only place she felt safe and secure. From age thirteen, Cassie had lived with her grandmother in a beautiful Queen Anne style house. Its bright yellow and white trim filled her soul with happiness from the moment she crossed the threshold as a devastated teenager who'd lost first one parent and then the other.

Losing her parents ripped a hole in her that she knew would never be filled, but living with Gran helped ground her. She loved this town, she'd loved her grandmother, and she loved the house.

And now she might lose it forever.

It wasn't like she'd be homeless. She had her trust fund, and the money she made from her jewelry business could pay for a modest apartment in town, but it wouldn't be her home. Not like Gran's place. Losing the house would be like losing another piece of herself.

Charlie shook her head, a frown marring her face. "But I thought your grandmother was leaving it to you in her will? She said she would."

"She did, but…"

"But what? What's the stipulation?"

"So ludicrous I can't even form the words out loud," she muttered. "Um, so you know how Gran was a bit of a romantic?"

Charlie snorted, taking a sip of her drink. "Your Gran could have made a fortune off her matchmaking services if she'd ever decided to go into the business."

True. Gran had set up many people in Kismet out of the goodness of her romantic heart. Including sending Cassie on about a million dates. Trying to marry off her granddaughter to every single man within a fifty-mile radius.

Charlie's head tilted in question, her blue eyes squinting. "Didn't she even try to set you up with Del once?"

"Yes, unfortunately."

Cassie squirmed as the awkward memory brought up a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. Why Gran thought Del would ever be a good match was beyond her, but the old woman had tried to convince Cassie on more than one occasion to give Delta Jackson a chance.

"In keeping with her romantical notions," Cassie continued, "she indicated in her will that to gain ownership of the house I have to…be married." She mumbled the last part under her breath.

Charlie raised one dark eyebrow. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Throwing back the last of her drink for fortification, Cassie looked her friend dead in the eye and spoke loud and clear. "I have to be married. Within six months of the will's reading in order to get the deed. Gran knew taxes could get dicey with probate and didn't want a long timeline adding more issues to the transfer of assets, I suppose. If I don't find a husband in the next six months, the house goes to my cousin, Mandy."

"Mandy? But she lives in Nevada."

Yup. Which was why her cousin had been included in the will reading via video call. Ugh, Cassie could still see the greedy sneer on her cousin's face when the lawyer read the marriage stipulation.

"Yes, but she has a husband and therefore a chance at the pitter-patter of little feet ‘in need of a nice family home.' I'm quoting directly from the will on that one."

"Oh God, I hope she and Trent never reproduce." Charlie winced. "Can you imagine?"

Cruel, but she had to agree. Mandy and Trent were in their late thirties and still living in his parents' basement. They were both low-functioning alcoholics with minimum wage jobs they could barely hold onto. She had no idea why Gran would even think they could love and take care of the house the way she would.

Charlie's full lips, painted a deep wine-red, frowned. "Your grandmother left it to you, but only if you get married and pop out a few kids?"

Cassie swirled her toothpick in her drink. Staring into the liquid, she wished it could give her a solution to her problem. "I don't have to pop any kids out. I just need a husband. Like I mentioned when I came in."

"Hmmm, that's a tall order. I could get you a guy for the night. This is an establishment with copious amounts of alcohol, after all." Charlie motioned to the wall of Jack's liquor behind the bar.

"Wow, thanks."

"I didn't mean it like that." Charlie placed a hand over hers and squeezed. "I just meant that people tend to hook up in bars a lot. It's kind of a thing according to…everyone. But a husband?"

True. A hookup she could find, no problem. Kismet was small, but it was also a tourist town, right on the I-70 corridor between Denver and the popular ski areas. If she wanted a quick lay, she'd have no problem finding a willing guy passing through. Unfortunately, she needed something with more substance, something lasting. A stupid fricking husband that you knew I didn't want, Gran!

Cassie never wanted to get married. Not after seeing how devastated her father had been after her mother's death. In truth, her parents had always been so absorbed in their work and each other, she'd always felt a bit left out, like an afterthought they'd only had because society deemed it necessary.

She knew her parents had loved her, but she'd never felt wanted, appreciated. Not until Gran and Kismet. This was the first place she'd ever truly felt at home. A place to come to every night and know it would still be there the next day. That kind of stability meant something to her, given her nomadic upbringing.

"So what's Mandy think of all this?" Charlie asked, swiveling back and forth on the barstool.

"Ha," Cassie snorted into her drink. "Mandy had dollar signs in her eyes the moment the will was read." Her cousin knew she didn't date much, so why wouldn't the nasty woman think she'd just won the housing lottery? "But, um, I might have panicked and mentioned I've been seeing someone for a while and that it's looking serious…"

Oh, the look of anger and suspicion on her cousin's face when Cassie blurted that out. Priceless.

Charlie stopped her lackadaisical swiveling. "What? But you're not seeing anyone."

Avoiding her best friend's gaze, Cassie shrugged. "How do you know? I could have a secret boyfriend."

Now it was Charlie's turn to snort. "Oh please, like you could keep a boyfriend a secret from me. Why would you?"

"I could have my reasons. Maybe I do have a secret boyfriend."

Charlie narrowed her eyes, dark brows furrowing as her best friend searched her face for the truth. "The only reason you'd keep a secret like that from me is if I didn't approve of the guy, and since I know you to have fairly good taste in men, though none are worthy of my awesome bestie, I'm gonna go with a no on the secret boyfriend."

Yeah, her cousin hadn't fully bought that story either. Ugh, this was a nightmare.

"I can't lose the house, Charlie." Tears welled in Cassie's eyes, emotions clogging her throat. The past few months had taken their toll, and though she'd cried for Gran, she was happy her grandmother was no longer in any pain. She was at peace. Cassie, however, had just been tossed into a tornado of suckage.

"You won't lose it." Charlie grabbed her hands, squeezing them, a reassuring smile on her face. "We just need to—"

"Find me a husband. Yeah, no problem. Men just love commitment in a hurry. It's their favorite thing."

"Your sarcasm isn't helping."

"It's either sarcasm or break down and cry. And since I didn't wear my waterproof mascara today, my choice is clear." Pulling her hands back into her lap, Cassie glanced into her empty glass and let out a soft groan. "My drink is empty. That's not helping either."

Charlie grabbed their empty glasses and pushed them forward on the bar. "Normally I'd cut you off when you're in full-on mopey mode, but in this case, I'd say more alcohol is called for."

"I am not moping."

"You want a drink or not?"

She mimed zipping her lips and nodded. Hey, if it'd get her more booze…

Pity party, table of me.

"Del!" Charlie leaned over the bar, tossing her stick straight locks back over her shoulder as she shouted to her brother. "We need refills."

"Make them yourself." The muffled voice carried through the thin walls separating the front of Jack's from the distillery in back.

"Delta Morgan Jackson, you get your ass out here and make us some drinks or I will tell Ace about the blonde last week!"

The door to the back swung open. A very pissed off Del strode through, arms crossing over his chest as he came to stand behind the bar. "First you want me gone, now you want me back. Make up your freaking mind, Charlie. And don't even think about telling Ace about the blonde or I'll tell him and BJ about that jackass with the hipster beard you went home with last week."

"For the last time, I can date who I want, and I'm not scared of any of you."

She stuck her tongue out at her brother. He threw his hands up in the air, turning to grab the ingredients for their drinks.

"What did he do with the blonde?" Cassie asked in a hushed voice. She only wanted to know because she was curious as to what would have Del running to do his sister's bidding, not because of that odd feeling she got in the pit of her stomach whenever she thought of Del involved with a woman.

"Some blonde bimbo came in last week and flirted with Del all night. Far be it from me to disparage our gender, but the chick was oozing desperation."

"She was not. She was nice," Del commented as he poured olive juice into the shaker with the vodka.

"How could you tell how nice she was when all your focus was on her rack?"

He gave his sister the middle finger which she returned, adding a clever music box motion and sound effect as she lifted her own finger.

"Anyway," Charlie continued, "after a whole night of batting her eyelashes and pushing her cleavage up higher than God, she managed to get idiot over here to comp her entire bill. One-hundred dollars' worth."

Cassie cocked a brow. "Wow, that's a lot of booze."

"Not really." Del glared at his sister. "She's a distributor for a restaurant chain in Denver and I sent her home with a bottle of our gin and vodka. I was making a business connection. And I plan on telling Ace and BJ about it when she puts in an order. Which she will."

That made sense. Their bottles were over thirty dollars a pop. Worth every penny, too. The Jacksons knew their distilling.

"You were making a connection alright," Charlie muttered under her breath.

"Here." Del slid the gin and tonic to his sister. "I hope you choke on it. Not you Cassie," he added, sliding her dirty martini over. "Enjoy it. In fact, I'm such a nice guy to everyone I won't even make you honor our bet this time."

Grateful she didn't have to repeat the stupid mixer-god phrase—why had she bet on a pair of aces?—she smiled. "Thanks, Del."

"At least someone around here appreciates me."

"Oh, cry me a river baby brother. You've got customers."

A group of people entered the bar. Del shook his head at his sister, giving Cassie a wink as he turned and headed down to the other end of the bar where the customers waited. As much as they bickered, she knew the Jackson siblings loved each other. Often, over the years, she'd envied her friend. Having three brothers could be overwhelming at times, she knew, but she would have given anything for a sister or brother. Even now, she wished for some familial connection. The only living relative she had was her cousin, and well…it wasn't exactly the Hallmark kind of relationship she craved.

Cassie took a sip of her martini. The alcohol hit her system, soothing her ragged nerves. "Oh yes, this is what I needed."

"And so is this." Charlie pulled her laptop from her bag. Opening it, she started typing away.

Not trusting the gleeful smile on her best friend's face, she peeked at the screen. Her jaw fell open in horror. "Whoa, what are you doing? A dating site? I'm not that desperate."

"Yes, you are," her friend answered without pausing her furious clicking. "And it's the twenty-first century. Everyone has an online dating profile now."

Not her. She preferred to meet men the old-fashioned way. At a bar or the library or work. Seeing as how she worked from home, that made things a little difficult, which explained why she hadn't had a relationship in… Oh jeez, had it been over a year? Perhaps she did need to get online.

"Okay, I got you set up at Meet My Match," Charlie said. "There's also More in the Sea and Farmers Only."

"But I'm not a farmer."

"So what? Farmers are hot."

Cassie raised one brow, waiting her friend out. It didn't take long. Charlie hated long silences.

"Okay, fine. No farmers. More for me."

"You do not have a profile on Farmers Only…do you?"

Charlie didn't answer, simply took a sip of her drink.

"I didn't know you had a farmer fetish." She chuckled, nudging her friend's leg with a soft kick of her toe.

"Can it. This is about finding you a hubby, not my turn-ons."

"Okay fine. Let's do this—no, wait." Needing the courage, she tipped back her drink, finishing the martini in one big gulp. "Okay, now let's do this."

"Impressive, but you better stick to water for the rest of the night. No yakking on the floors. We just had them cleaned."

"No yakking." She raised a hand in the air. "I swear."

But her stomach turned over, threatening to break her promise. It wasn't the vodka—she could handle much more than two martinis in a night—but the circumstances.

Charlie started typing in her profile: height, hair and eye color, what she was looking for in a man. Someone who will marry her so the house she'd always thought of as home could be hers forever. The only place she'd ever felt a connection to family. A connection to…herself.

And she only had six months to do it. Six months to find a guy she liked and marry him. Men loved needy women who rushed them into marriage, right?

Oh crap, she needed another drink.