Page 7 of Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Del simply raised one brow. “Or I’ll go behind my bar and take out my granddaddy’s shotgun and make sure you can’t sit for a month.”

Bryce’s eyes widened, bravado slipping. The guy dropped his hand, faltering in his stance.

Cassie rubbed her temples. “Delta Jackson, I swear I am going to kick your ass.”

Cassie could swear all she wanted. Her date was a jerk.

“What?” he said. “I was just—”

“Not another word,” she cut him off, pointing a finger at the bar. “Go back to work and leave us alone.”

Fine. Excuse the hell out of him for trying to defend her honor. With another wink to her and a warning scowl to Bryce the Tool, he turned and headed to the bar.

“That looked interesting,” Kelley chuckled.

“Never a dull moment,” he replied. “I’m gonna take five, and then I’ll grab that gin.”

“Sounds good. We have a lull anyway.”

Perfect. He needed a minute to calm down. If Cassie wanted to deal with that ass on her own, he’d let her. He wasn’t her protector or her lover. They didn’t have any obligations to each other. She’d made that pretty damn clear on more than one occasion. Didn’t matter what she thought of him one bit.

Nope.

Not at all.

Heading to the back where they kept the equipment needed for distilling their various alcohols, Del wondered why he was in such a pissy mood all of a sudden. But he knew. Bryce the Tool’s comment hit a little too close to home. Everyone saw him as the party guy, the goof-off. Maybe he deserved a bit of that reputation. He’d quit college after one year and bummed around the country for a bit, but that was ages ago. He’d been nineteen, a young man in his prime wanting to see what life had to offer. The traditional college experience just hadn’t been for him, so he’d traveled, worked odd jobs, met people, experienced new things.

It had been amazing. Then he’d come home.

He’d always planned on coming back. The siblings had dreams of going into business together, opening up a distillery like their father had always wanted. Lawrence Jackson hadn’t lived to see his dream come true. An IED had taken his life over in some foreign country Del couldn’t even pronounce the name of. The decorated Marine had been taken from his wife and four children too soon, but his legacy lived on in Jack’s, the dream he always had for his family.

Yeah, Del knew how important this business was to everyone. He wanted to do his part, help out, but since his year of “finding himself” as his sister called it, no one trusted him with anything other than bartending. He’d been branded the face of the business, the friendly good-time guy with no substance. Sure he had a share of the business, like all his siblings, but Bryce hadn’t been too far off the mark with his condescending assessment of Del’s responsibilities at Jackson Family Distillery.

But that was about to change. Del had ideas, plans, and if his brothers would just give him a shot, this place could be so much more.

Speaking of brothers, Del glanced up to see Ace standing at the large still in the back of the room, supervising the mash going through its stripping run. “Hey man,” he said above the whooshing sounds of the distilling tanks. “Have you thought about my proposal?”

Ace didn’t turn, checking the clipboard in his hand and making notes. “Yeah, BJ and I talked it over.”

“And?” They all might have a stake in the place, but being the oldest, the twins had veto power over all distillery decisions.

“No.”

Del’s heart slammed into the pit of his stomach. One damning word. Zero discussion, zero explanation, just a no.

Disappointment and anger tightened his gut. “Why not? It’s a good idea, you know it.”

Now his brother did turn, glancing up from his clipboard, a taciturn expression on his face. “We’re a distillery, Del. We deal in alcohol, not food.”

“I know, but adding on a restaurant would increase our profits. We could open earlier, get a new crowd. People like to have food with their booze, Ace. It’s common knowledge.”

“It’s also common knowledge that the restaurant business is a bad investment. Nine out of ten restaurants fail in their first year.”

“But we already have a steady clientele.”

“For drinks.”

“You don’t think people who drink eat too?”

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