Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

A fter a horrible morning, the day finally started to look up. The churning upset in her stomach had eased thanks to all the primping and pampering she'd been enjoying for the last two hours. Or maybe it was due to the mimosa she'd ingested. Either way, Cassie's nerves were soothed and her misery abated.

She still felt the twinge of guilt deep in the pit of her stomach for lying to Del's family. Especially Charlie. Crap on toast. Her best friend had been so mad at her. She hadn't witnessed her friend's temper since Charlie's ex ran off with her yoga instructor and two of her credit cards. The two of them certainly made a pair in the horrible-man-picking department.

Cassie glanced over at her latest man, who wasn't all that bad—or even her man, to be honest. They sat side by side in soft-as-butter plushy chairs. Both of them had their feet dipped in hot, lavender footbaths. Inhaling deeply, she allowed the warm, sweet smelling water to soak all her troubles away.

Del didn't look as peaceful as she currently felt. He kept glancing at his nails which had recently been clipped and buffed to a glossy shine. The sweet guy agreed to any treatment she wanted, but he drew the line at polish.

"You're hating this, aren't you?" She cringed, knowing if the situation weren't what it was, Charlie would be the one beside her getting pampered. And her BFF would have insisted on them both putting "Screw Off" black on their nails.

She rubbed at an ache in her chest. She hoped this would all blow over soon. She didn't know what she would do if Charlie stayed mad at her forever.

"Not as much as I thought." Del grinned, leaning over and speaking in a low, soft tone. "Don't tell my brothers or they might revoke my man card, but this is pretty nice. Feels good to get a little pampered. And whatever the hell was in that face gunk is awesome." He rubbed his chin. "My face feels smoother than a baby's butt. No wonder women like this stuff."

He referred to the facial they received, though she doubted his face felt all that smooth. She could see the five o'clock stubble he sported. The rough, dark shadow on his chiseled jaw tempted her. Her fingertips sparked with the desire to reach out and stroke her hand against him. Even indulging in the girliest of activities, Del was all man. A very sweet man who endured something he would never in a million years do on his own, all to make her—his fake fiancée—feel better.

Oh crap, she was in trouble.

Shandra—the owner of Deep Reflections—smiled as she refilled their drinks. "That would be the oatmeal in the mask. It smooths the pores, and the apple cider vinegar releases toxins. A lot of men enjoy our services." She looked up at Del. "Pampering oneself isn't a gender thing, it's a human thing. Everyone needs a bit of indulging every now and then."

"Plus, you get booze." He lifted his glass and winked. "You sure know how to make a mean mimosa, Shandra. Savvy business owner, beautiful, and knows her way around alcohol? If I wasn't engaged, I'd whisk you off to Vegas on the next flight and marry you."

Shandra, who'd passed fifty about a decade ago, blushed from the roots of her dyed brown hair to the tips of her opened-toed sandals. "Delta Jackson, I'm old enough to be your mother. In fact, I play poker with her every Saturday."

"A card shark, too." He clutched at his chest, then reached out to grab Cassie's hand and kissed her knuckles softly, eyes lit with humor and something else she wasn't ready to deal with. "It's too bad this amazing lady snagged my heart before I knew about all your untold talents, Shandra."

"Oh, he's good, honey." The older woman fanned herself. "You're in trouble with this one."

Didn't she know it.

Shandra turned to fill the glasses of the other customers.

Del released Cassie's hand, grabbing for his drink again. "Tell me more about your grandmother's house. I don't think I've ever actually been inside it before."

No. He wouldn't have. Her Grandmother, loving and amazing woman though she was, would never have let a boy in to play with her granddaughter. Such things were not done, and Gran was a stickler for propriety.

"It's beautiful, but that's not why I'm doing this." She grabbed her glass, taking a large sip of her mimosa before continuing. "From the time I was born, my parents were always on the move. We never stayed in one place more than a year."

Del shifted in his seat, facing her, giving her his full and undivided attention.

"I know it was their job and they helped a lot of people, but…"

"You hated it," he guessed.

She sank her teeth into her lower lip as she nodded. "I did. I feel guilty sometimes because I know their cause was noble and they saved thousands of people, I'd wager. But as a kid, none of that mattered to me. All I wanted was my own place. A house, a bedroom, a familiar place I could come home to every day. Something stable." She laughed, the sound far from humorous. "I never even had a real friend until I moved here. I always felt so…lonely."

"And being an only child must have made it worse." He shook his head. "It's hard to get any alone time with three older siblings. And don't even get me started on bathroom time. I had to mark a favorite tree out in the yard just to relieve myself most mornings."

She laughed, covering her mouth as a small snort escaped. "You did not."

"Did so." He grinned. "Charlie saw me one morning and told Mom. She flipped. Made me spend all summer planting petunias around each and every tree on our property. Course, then she also instituted a bathroom time chart and anyone who went over had to scrub the toilets that week."

Dorothy Jackson was a smart woman.

"Your mom's amazing."

"Yeah, she's pretty great."

A cold stab of guilt wrenched Cassie's chest because secretly she wished her mother had been more like Mrs. Jackson.

"We spent a few Christmases with my grandmother whenever we were in the States. I loved it." She smiled, staring into the distance as memories came flooding back. "The house was decorated with lights. Her tree was always real, and it made the whole place smell like fresh pine. I loved sitting under it late at night when everyone had gone to bed. I even wrote a letter to Santa one year wishing I could stay there forever. It felt like home. The one I'd always wished for."

Little did she know her wish would come true only a few short years later.

"When my mother died, my father and I came back to Gran's to stay. After a few months, Dad left saying he needed to get back to work. I understood. People needed him. He left me behind, at Gran's. Later I found out my grandmother insisted. She said a young girl needed stability in her life."

"Your dad just dumped you off on his mother and left?"

Startled by the harsh tone of his voice, she glanced up. Pale blue eyes heated.

"He had to get back to work. He was a doctor. People needed him."

" You needed him. His grieving daughter needed him. He may have been a doctor, but he was a father first. Kids should always come first."

She agreed, but not everyone saw it that way.

"Was that how your dad was?" She knew Mrs. Jackson would die for her children. The woman loved with a fierceness Cassie ached for.

Del sat back, grabbing his glass and downing the rest of his mimosa. "I don't remember Dad much. He was away a lot, on missions, and he died when I was just a kid."

Sadness pinched her chest. Sometimes because Del acted so happy and carefree, she forgot the man had lost his father as just a boy. A profound wound she knew all too well. A life event that impacted and shaped a child in a way nothing else did.

"What I do remember are his stories." The corners of Del's lips turned up in a small smile. "Dad always had the best stories. Most of his tales were passed down from Pappy Mel. They were hilarious and totally inappropriate for a kid, but we loved them. We loved him."

Clearly, since the siblings had fulfilled their father's dream of opening a distillery.

"My mom loves Kismet and never wanted to leave so Dad stayed. Even when he had to do a tour of duty, he never packed us up to move. He did his time and came back home."

Wow, they truly had opposite childhoods.

"I remember when he died, Mom…wanted to fall apart. I could see it in her eyes. Even when she tried to be strong for us, I could see the tears she held back, the emptiness. But she pulled herself together, worked any job she could find to keep us in our home, keep some stability through the dark times." He turned to face her again, grabbing her hand tightly. "That's what parents do, Cassandra. They put their kids first even when it hurts, even when they're dying on the inside."

"It must have helped that she had all of you."

"And your father had you." He shook his head. "He should have seen that. He may have lost a wife, but you had lost your mother. He should have been there for you."

His anger on her behalf touched her. Suddenly Del's face turned blurry, and to her horror, she discovered her eyes welling up. Emotions she didn't want to acknowledge or deal with choked her.

Pulling her hand from his grasp, she busied herself with polishing off her drink. She didn't know what to say. Having been friends with the Jackson family for a long time, she knew their father had died, but she never put it together that they'd both lost parents.

It felt odd connecting with Del on something this deep and personal. Hell, it was weird connecting with him at all. Who knew the man hid such depth behind the fun-guy fa?ade? Could there be more to Delta Jackson than met the eye?

"Cassie? Are you okay?"

She was saved from having to answer his question when Shandra came back.

"Well you two look just about done." The woman bent down to pull their feet from the sweet-smelling water, drying them on the softest towels in all of Kismet. "Are you all done for the day or can I interest you in our couples massage?"

Couples massage? As in, get naked and enjoy a rub down in the same room with Del?

"It's very relaxing and romantic," she continued. "Perfect precursor to a night of enjoyment ."

"Mmm, sounds nice. What do you think, sweetheart?" Del gave her a grin, which could only be classified as seductive. The jackass.

Cassie sucked in a sharp breath as she felt her nipples tighten. Oh hell no! If just the thought of getting a naked rub down next to Del made her body tingle with desire, then she absolutely did not need to follow through with it. That would be the stupidest thing she'd done all year. Except for fake marrying her best friend's little brother.

Yeah. Good decisions all around for her lately.

Well, this was one good decision she was going to make. No naked time with Del, even if it was presumably innocent. Two mimosas in, she didn't trust her ability to keep her hands to herself. It had been way too long since her last boyfriend and longer still since her last mutual orgasm. Sadly, no one else seemed to get the job done right.

Staring at the man seated next to her, Cassie had no doubt in her mind Del could get her there with barely any effort at all. Judging by the two fantastic kisses they'd shared, she could tell he knew his way around a woman's body. She wasn't sure if she was excited or annoyed by that fact.

Annoyed. Definitely annoyed.

"Um, I think we'll pass today Shandra, but thank you," Cassie said. A soft chuckle sounded from beside her, and she swore she heard the word chicken muttered, but she ignored it and smiled at the shop owner. "Can you just put today on my card and bill me?"

Before the old woman could nod her acceptance, Del raised a hand in protest. "Oh no. Today's on me, cupcake."

Cupcake? They really needed to talk about his choice of nicknames.

"Del, that's not necess—"

"I insist." He pulled out his wallet, handing over enough cash to cover their treatments and a very generous tip. "This is your day, and I won't have you lifting a finger. Even to pay."

Shandra took the cash with a knowing grin. "You've got yourself a keeper here, honey."

A keeper? Sure, she'd keep him. Locked in a box in the old jail cells underneath town hall, she'd keep him. Del knew she had the funds to cover today's pampering. The spa hadn't even been his idea. What was he up to?

The question kept rolling over in her mind as they walked back to Gran's house. The whole day kept playing on repeat. The revelation to his family. The fight with Charlie. The odd connection she made with Del while he allowed her to do whatever she needed to make herself happy.

"Do you want to grab some dinner?" Del asked as they approached her door. "Or maybe we should just skip food and go straight to dessert." His eyebrows bobbed suggestively.

Knowing he was only joking, she shoved him lightly. "No, you perv. I just want to inhale some rocky road ice cream, slip into my comfy PJs, and watch a marathon of Gilmore Girls again."

He winced. "I'll suffer through a spa day, but I draw the line at strange mother-daughter relationships that talk so fast I can't follow."

She laughed. "Thank you, Del. Seriously. I know this is creating a lot of problems for you—"

"For both of us," he interrupted.

Seeing her best friend's hurt expression in her mind again, she nodded in acknowledgment. "For both of us. But you made me feel better today. Thank you."

"I'm just trying to be a good fiancé."

" Fake fiancé," she reminded him.

He stared, clear blue eyes so pale they looked like the morning sky right at dawn, focused intently on her. He took a step toward her, crowding her personal space, but she didn't back away. She couldn't, as if he'd transfixed her. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, all her focus zeroed in on Del and what he would do next. Her body tingled with anticipation and she couldn't even find the desire to be mad at herself.

"Right," he finally spoke, low and deep, his voice reverberating in her ears. "Fake fiancé. We have to keep up appearances. And speaking of appearances."

His head dipped down. Cassie didn't even question the fact that they were standing on the porch of her house, tucked away from the street, with no witnesses in the vicinity. She shut down every thought about this being a bad idea and leaned forward, closing her eyes as she met him halfway. She could blame it on the situation, the booze, the stress of the day, but in truth? She desperately wanted to kiss Del again.

So, she did.

She pressed her lips against his, wrapping her arms around his neck to tug him closer. He didn't fight it. Del was all too happy to acquiesce to her request. He pressed her back against the door, crushing his body against hers. A moan rose in her throat, and she could do absolutely nothing to stop it.

Holy crap, who knew Charlie's little brother could kiss like this?

Her body tingled, and a strong ache settled between her thighs. When Del moved against her she swore she almost came right there, fully clothed. The man was a keg of sexual dynamite, and she felt like the fuse, ready to explode at the first strike.

Just as she began to entertain the idea of making her bad week of decisions even worse by inviting Del in, he pulled back.

Their harsh breaths mingled together as he pressed his forehead against hers. She thought she heard him mutter a curse, but she couldn't be sure. Her ears still rang from the bombshell of a kiss he'd given her.

"Goodnight, Cassandra." With a squeeze of her hips, he released her and hurried down the steps and into the night.

She stood there, slumped against her front door. She brought a trembling hand up to touch her lips, swollen and still buzzing from her fake fiancé's kiss.

"Goodnight Del," she whispered into the empty darkness.