Page 71 of Crazy Little Thing Called Love

“You proved yourself.” Ace clinked as well. “In more ways than we ever asked.”

Pride swelled in his chest. He couldn’t believe it. His brothers were finally seeing him as an equal. He had to blink back tears of joy. All his hard work was paying off. His dreams were happening.

“To Jack’s!” Del raised his glass.

“To Jack’s!” The twins followed.

The smooth burn of the scotch was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. Well, second sweetest, after Cassie. Even as his spirits soared over the news of the restaurant and his brothers’ faith in him, a heavy, dark cloud settled over his heart. The one person he wanted to share this with the most, he couldn’t. Because even though he was still going to marry her, help her get what she wanted, the sad truth was, Cassie didn’t want him.

He sat there, drinking some of the world’s finest scotch, discussing plans for his inclusion in the Jackson family business, ignoring the giant hole in his heart getting bigger by the moment.

CHAPTER 24

It took three days for Cassie to pluck up the courage to face Del. The conversation she had with Charlie echoed in her head, refusing to leave her alone. Her best friend’s insistence that her brother still loved Cassie gave her hope that she hadn’t screwed things up beyond repair. Still, she had some things to sort out before she went crawling on her knees to the man she loved.

Okay, maybe not crawling.

She put on her favorite forest green sundress that made her eyes pop. She didn’t want to scuff her knees up and ruin the make-his-mind-go-fuzzy sex appeal she had going on. Touching her hand to her hair, she smiled as she patted the smooth strands. After setting everything in motion, she’d scheduled an appointment at Deep Reflections. If she was going to convince Del to give her another shot, a real shot, she wanted to use every weapon in her arsenal.

Shandra booked her the full treatment. From the tips of her straight-ironed, shiny hair to the bottom of her freshly-painted pale pink manicured toes. Knights went into battle with swords and armor. Women in love fought with their hearts, but it didn’t hurt to look your best, too. Cassie’s outfit was her armor, and her heart, her sword. She would fight for Del, for them, with everything she had in her, because the man had been right.

Possessions didn’t matter. People did.

And Delta Jackson mattered more than anyone in the entire world.

Approaching the door to Jack’s, she placed a hand on the warm silver handle and paused. What if Charlie was wrong? What if Del had decided she wasn’t worth all this drama? What if he’d changed his mind and didn’t love her anymore?

A sharp pain jabbed in her chest. The confidence she’d received from the primping at the spa and her inner pep talk on the way over faltered.

Letting out a shuddering breath, she rubbed at the ache in her chest. Her vision blurred slightly, but she blinked back the tears. No. She didn’t have time for doubts, and no way in hell was she ruining her very expensive makeover before she’d said her peace. Knock Del’s socks off first, then she could cry.

But would they be tears of joy or sadness?

Pushing open the door, she squinted as the bright light of late afternoon disappeared, replaced by soft interior lighting. The tasting room opened about an hour ago, so they weren’t overly crowded. Half a dozen customers sat spread around, drinking Jack’s finest. Two women laughed together at a table in back, one man stared at the jukebox as if his song selection were the secret to life, and three men sat at the bar, engaged in friendly banter.

And there, behind the bar, mixing up the drinks with a smile, stood the man she loved.

Del laughed at something the men said, pouring a mix of something fizzy and most-likely delicious into three tall glasses full of ice. He garnished each with a slice of lemon and pushed them toward the men. “Three Tom Collins made with Kismet’s finest gin. Enjoy, gentlemen.”

The men—tourists, judging by their out-of-town sports jerseys—clinked their glasses and tipped them back. Each praised Del on his mixing skills and the gin. Del smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His spark was missing, and she had a sinking feeling she knew why.

But she came here to fix that.

Oh, please let her be able to fix it.

Stepping further into the room, she opened her mouth, but only a squeak came out, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Del?”

His head snapped up at her voice, smile vanishing, brow furrowing. “Cassie, what are you doing here?”

Not a great start. Guess her makeover didn’t work as well as she thought.

“I came to talk to you. Do you have a second?”

She should have been here two hours ago, before the tasting room opened, but her hair had taken longer than she planned—as it always did. She counted on the early time and Kelley—the part-time bartender who was nowhere in sight—to give her a chance to talk to Del alone. No way could she put this off until Jack’s closed after midnight.

“Um, yeah. I guess, but I can’t leave. Kelley won’t be here for another half an hour.”

Great, just what she wanted for her grovel, an audience.

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