Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

R iiiiiiiing!

"Ohmigod!" Cassie sat up, immediately regretting the action when her head split in two. "Ouch!" Grabbing her throbbing cranium, she was happy to discover it still in one piece.

Her cell rang again, and she cried out as the peal of the ringtone caused jackhammers to take up root in her brain. She had no one to blame but herself.

And Charlie.

Her best friend had arrived late last night with a gallon of rocky road ice cream and a bottle of Jackson Family Distillery's special chocolate-infused vodka. Over a night of apologies, tears, and laughter they'd devoured the ice cream and most of the vodka. It felt great to have her best friend back. The hangover? Not so much.

Her cell refused to shut up, the constant ringing threatening to move the thumping in her head to full-blown explosion. Leaning over to the nightstand, she slapped her hand around, eyes half-open because even the small amount of light peeking through her bedroom curtains stung. Finally, she landed on the cursed device. Hitting accept, she brought the phone to her ear, laying her poor aching head back on her lovely soft pillow.

"Hello?"

"How dare you try and steal what's mine, you selfish bitch!"

The pounding increased at the familiar angry voice. "Mandy?"

"Don't you have enough? Are you so greedy you have to take everything from me too?"

Yup, the only person she knew with that much self-righteous ire was her cousin.

"You'll have to be more specific, it's very early and I'm not quite awake yet." Or sober. The room spun slightly as she opened her eyes. Could a person be drunk and hung-over at the same time? Didn't seem fair.

"It's ten in the morning," Mandy said.

Really? Since her cousin lived in Nevada that meant it had to be eleven in Colorado. When was the last time she slept till eleven in the morning? Probably the last time she got wasted, so…six years ago? Thirty-one-year-old her could not hold her liquor like twenty-five-year-old her could.

She was getting old.

"I had a, um, late night." Knowing this conversation would call for all her energy, she reluctantly rose to make coffee. "Now, tell me again what I supposedly stole from you?"

Her cousin's huff of annoyance came over the line, but she didn't have the energy to care. Her head hurt, her mouth tasted like rotten eggs, and she was pretty sure she told Charlie her brother was the best kisser in the world last night. Exactly what a sister likes to hear about her brother.

At least it lent credence to their fib. Thank goodness she stayed coherent enough not to blab out the truth.

Slipping on her robe and fuzzy bunny slippers, she made her way to her kitchen. Normally she ground her coffee beans fresh every morning, but her pounding head would kick her brain out her ears if she even tried. She grabbed her pre-ground camping stash from the pantry. As the coffee dripped, she leaned against the counter, phone pressed to her ear as her cousin explained.

"I saw on the Kismet town webpage that you're getting married."

Seriously? It had only been a few days and they'd only told Del's family. It shouldn't surprise her. Word got around in their small town.

"Apparently you're engaged to Kismet's most eligible bachelor. Isn't that a coincidence since you need a husband to get Gran's house?" Mandy sneered. "The house is mine!"

As Cassie took a deep breath, the rich scent of coffee cleared some of the throbbing in her head. "Gran left the house to me ."

"If you're married. You're not."

"I will be, soon."

Her cousin snorted. "Yeah, how convenient for you. Gran makes a stipulation of marriage in her will and suddenly you, the perpetual single woman, have a fiancé."

Hey. She wasn't perpetually single. She didn't date all that much, but she had other things going on in her life—friends, her jewelry business, her charity work. Cassandra Brown lived a very full life; she did not need a man. Not until recently anyway.

"What did you do, go out and hire a husband?"

The cruel barb hit a little too close to home. "No, Mandy, I didn't hire a guy to pretend to be my husband."

But she was investing in his business. Did that count? Her stomach churned. Guilt or impending hangover vomiting? Either way, it wasn't good. Time for coffee, stat.

She pulled down a mug from her cupboard and filled it all the way, blowing on the hot beverage before taking a sip. Usually, she added cream to cut the strength, but today she needed full octane.

"Why are you so upset?" she asked. "You and Trent already have a place, and you live two states away."

"We live in Trent's parents' basement," Mandy ground out. "Not ideal for raising a family."

Cassie choked on her coffee. The liquid went up her nose, burning and stinging her nostrils. Eyes watering, she set her mug down and thumped her chest a few times. Great, like she wasn't suffering enough.

"You're pregnant?"

"Shit, no!"

Oh, thank God. She hated to speak ill of anyone, especially family, but Mandy and Trent would make terrible parents. Never had she met two more selfish, childish people in all her life. Some days she wondered how they were even related.

"But, ya know," Mandy said, "someday we might want kids or whatever."

Yeah right. Kids required time, money, patience, and love. All things her cousin seriously lacked. Cassie wanted kids one day, though. Just the thought of holding a tiny little bundle, giving them all the love and attention she had, filled her heart with such yearning. When she did have children, she knew she'd be a better parent than her own had been. Stability, love, attention—she'd shower her kids with all of the above. Once she found the right guy to be a loving and attentive father.

Her mind wandered to Del. He'd certainly be a fun dad. She could see him taking the kids to the river, teaching them to tube down the small rapids. No doubt he'd teach them how to prank their siblings, and her. A smile curled her lips as she imagined him taking the kids to the park and running arou—

Whoa! Hold the phone. Had she actually been daydreaming about having kids with Del?

Grabbing her coffee from the counter, she tipped the mug and downed half the contents. Her tongue and throat immediately protested, but she needed the shot of caffeine to wake up. Ignoring her burned tongue, Cassie shook her head—bad idea. She was still drunk, or hung-over, or whatever. The phone call with Mandy and her irrational ranting about babies and hiring husbands had obviously sparked all this.

Sure, that was why she imagined what it would be like to be married to Del for real and have kids with him. No other reason. None at all.

"Why are you being so selfish?" Mandy shouted.

Her cousin's accusation brought her out of her scatterbrained thoughts. "How am I selfish?"

"You're stealing Gran's house."

"She gave it to me first."

"But you can find another place to live!"

Cassie sighed, finishing off her coffee without waiting for it to cool. Her mouth was already burned to hell, what did it matter now? "Yes, I could, but I don't want to. I love this house, Mandy. Besides, would you guys honestly move to Kismet if you got the house?"

Her cousin lived in Henderson, just outside Las Vegas. Mandy and Trent loved the nightlife and spent almost every evening in one casino or another. The only casino near Kismet was Blackhawk, and that was hours away.

"No, duh. We'd sell it and buy something here."

Her heart cracked in two, feeling suddenly just as shattered as her head. She knew her cousin didn't care about Gran's house. Not the way she did. Mandy wouldn't love it or keep it up, raise a loving family in it the way their grandmother wanted. A sense of surety filled her to know that—even if things got complicated—she was doing the right thing.

"I could sell it to you , for a price." Mandy's sly voice filled her ear.

Yeah, for double what it's worth knowing her greedy cousin. While she could afford to give Del his start-up cash, Cassie couldn't afford to buy her Gran's house outright.

"Then you wouldn't have to marry whatever god-awful fugly guy you hired to marry you."

"For the last time, I didn't hire anyone." And Del was as far from fugly as a man could get. There was a reason Jack's was a hit with all the ladies in town and it wasn't just their award-winning alcohol.

"Fine. I hope the roof falls down on you both in the middle of the night and kills you, bitch!"

"Lovely to talk to you too, Mandy." But her cousin had already hung up.

Playing the conversation over in her mind, Cassie nibbled on her thumbnail. She was doing the right thing. Mandy just admitted she'd sell the place without ever living in it. Gran wouldn't have wanted that. Her house had been passed down for generations. Family had been everything to her grandmother.

Still, guilt crushed her chest because her cousin had been partially right. Del wasn't her real fiancé. The marriage was a scam to gain ownership of the house. When she thought of it like that, her stomach turned over. Or maybe that was last night's booze.

Rushing to her bathroom, she made it just in time to empty the contents of her stomach into the toilet. She felt much better after brushing her teeth, hangover wise, at least. Her conscience still pricked.

Heading back into the kitchen, she bypassed another cup of coffee and grabbed her phone. Without thought, her fingers hit Del's number. He answered after the first ring.

"Morning, sweetie-pie."

"Ugh, please don't say pie. Or any food-related items."

His deep chuckle came over the line, soothing her head for some strange reason. "I see you're as bad off as my sister."

"Charlie's hungover, too?"

"Came into the staff meeting this morning with big dark sunglasses and snapped at us all for yelling. We had to whisper though the entire meeting."

She laughed, imagining big alpha men like the Jackson brothers intimidated by their tiny sister. "She has you all whipped."

"Hey, you don't know how ruthless Charlie can be. Once, in sixth grade, I put a frog in her backpack to scare her and the next morning I woke up with chili powder in my underwear. My sister is evil."

She could totally see her best friend doing that. The woman could be an angel or devil, depending on how you treated her. Charlie could fight her own battles, a side-effect of living with three brothers.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"Cassie."

He dragged out her name, and she hated that he could read her so well, even over the phone.

"What? Can't a woman call her fake fiancé first thing in the morning just to say hello?"

"One, it's after eleven. Not even I call this first thing in the morning. And two," his voice softened. "You sound sad."

She did? How the hell did he know?

Her vision blurred and she blinked away tears. She would not cry in front of Del, even if it was only over the phone.

"My cousin called this morning and reamed me out for taking Gran's house."

"But she left it to you."

"Yes, but my cousin thinks everything belongs to her. And she, um, accused me of hiring a husband."

Silence filtered over the line for a moment before Del softly spoke in her ear. "And you feel guilty because it's too close to the truth."

Seriously, how did the guy do it? If he ever quit bartending, he could make a fortune on one of those psychic hotlines.

"Cassie?"

"Yes, okay! I'm feeling conflicted about the lie in order to get what I want, but…I love that house, and I know my cousin wouldn't appreciate it. She admitted she was just going to sell it anyway." Frustration, guilt, and despair all danced around her head, joining the dull ache from her ill-advised vodka party last night. "I'm sorry, Del. These are my issues. I shouldn't be bothering you with them."

"Hey, just because I'm your fake fiancé doesn't mean I'm not your real friend." He paused, his voice lowering when he spoke again. "I care about you Cassandra. If you're having problems, you're always welcome to share them with me. I can't promise I'll be any help, but I'm a really good listener. It's in the bartender handbook."

A small laugh escaped her. "Thanks, Del. I—you're my friend, too." How odd to realize he truly was. Even though he annoyed her most days, she'd come to see all the Jackson siblings as friends, even Delta.

"Thanks, Sassy." When she groaned, he just laughed. "And I know how you feel about the house. When you love something so much it hurts, it's hard to see it go to someone who doesn't appreciate it."

"What do you love?" Because it sounded like he spoke from experience.

"Beatrice."

"Beatrice?" An odd twisting sensation filled her gut. No urge to vomit this time, but a strange feeling seeped over her, one she would have called jealousy if the idea wasn't so ludicrous.

"My dad's 1969 Chevy Camaro. The most beautiful car in the world."

A car! He was talking about a freaking car. She would not dignify the relief coursing through her by acknowledging it.

"Three-speed automatic, 357 V8, fully-restored, purrs like a kitten. I helped him fix her up as a kid. Whenever he was home on leave we'd spend hours together in the garage, tinkering away, replacing spark plugs or an alternator. Fixing up cars wasn't Ace and BJ's thing and Charlie always complained about the oil smell, so it was always just me and Dad."

Cassie could hear the smile in his voice. Having three siblings, it must have been hard to get alone time with either parent, especially since their dad was on tour so often. As a child, she remembered savoring every moment of attention her parents graced on her, few and far between as they were. So yeah, she could see how Del could relate. Beatrice was his house, his part of his dad to keep alive.

"Do you still have her?"

"Yup. Mom tried to sell her to some guy a few years after dad died. Said it was just taking up space in the garage since it wasn't a practical car for the mountains."

She could imagine. Come to think of it, she'd never seen Del driving it.

"I begged her not to get rid of it, promised I'd even get a summer job and pay her for the car myself."

"Did you?"

"Get a job? Hell yeah, started my very first paper route that summer, but a 1969 Chevy Camaro in prime condition like Beatrice can go for upwards of eighty thousand."

Good thing she'd skipped more coffee, or it'd be shooting out her nose right about now. "For a car?"

"Yup, but Mom let me have her anyway. Said I showed "good, strong character" and I'd proven my responsibility." He gave a sad little laugh. "Probably the last time anyone's ever said that about me."

A small ache pierced her heart. "Del, you're responsible."

"Yeah, so responsible I dropped out of college at nineteen and didn't—never mind. It's fine. I didn't mean to make this about me. I'm good."

But he wasn't. She could hear it in his voice. He wasn't the only one getting good at reading their fake fiancé's emotions. Del didn't think he had good character? He was one of the most stand-up guys she knew. He never served someone who'd had too much, always made sure people had rides or called a cab, and she'd even seen him stop a woman from getting roofied once. Then she'd watched as he called the cops and held the jackass down until they arrived to haul his ass away.

Honestly, she'd gotten a little excited at his display of heroism that night.

"You're a good man, Delta."

"Thanks, Sassy, but you just have to say that because I'm marrying you."

Okay, apparently, he could get deep with her, but big bad alpha man didn't like the tables turned. Whatever. Men were weird.

"Should we meet soon to go over wedding plans?" he asked.

Right, the wedding. She sighed, struggling with various emotions surrounding her pretend marriage. "Yes, I suppose we should. When are you free?"

"Can it wait till tomorrow? We open in a few hours and I still have some prep to do for the new infusions."

Her stomach quivered at the mention of alcohol. "Please, don't mention infused anything."

His warm chuckle soothed her stomach, making something much lower quiver.

"Drink lots of water and stick to dry toast today."

"I know how to handle a hangover, Del." What she didn't know how to handle was this new, completely unwanted attraction she seemed to be having for him.

"Okay, Sassy. I'll meet you tomorrow at the distillery at noon? We can grab lunch and discuss plans."

"Sounds good."

"Bye, Cassie."

"Bye, Del."

She hung up, clutching the phone to her chest. A glance down at the black screen revealed her reflection and the stupid, goofy grin she sported. Oh no. No, no, no! The last time she grinned like this she was sixteen and had a crush on the captain of the basketball team. This absolutely could not happen. She could not have a crush on Del!

But the butterflies in her stomach, the way her heart raced, the tingle of her lips where she swore she could still taste him from days ago, belied her denial.

"Dang it."

Flopping down on her living room couch, she thunked her phone against her aching head, welcoming the pain. She needed the pain to remind herself what an idiot she was to fall for Delta Jackson.

"No falling for him," she said to her reflection in the phone. "I'm just going to marry him and get the house. No more kisses when we're not in public and definitely no naked time. I will not get more involved with him."

Her reflection called bullshit. Judging from the porno now playing in her mind at the mention of naked time with Del, she had to admit it.

"I'm in so much trouble."

Trouble she would deal with tomorrow. Today, she needed a ton of water and five more hours of sleep. And if she happened to have sexy, naked dreams about Del, well, she'd just blame it on the hangover.