Can’t Help Falling In Love (Jackson Family Distillery #3)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

“H ere ya go, Charlie. One sausage burrito with extra habanero hot sauce.” Alice Montgomery handed over the wrapped item with a smile.

Charlie Jackson accepted the food with a grateful sigh. “Alice you are a goddess.”

Alice chuckled softly. “I just make food.”

“You make magic,” she insisted

“Hey, don’t you start your class today?”

She took a sniff of the spicy, cheesy item, cursing softly at the question that dampened her happy burrito mood. Eyes narrowing, she frowned at Alice, pondering taking back her goddess compliment after the reminder of the horrible day she had ahead of her.

“How do you know about that?”

Alice raised one pierced eyebrow. “Seriously? It’s Kismet. Everybody knows everything.”

True. Annoying small-town gossip. What she wouldn’t give to shove a sock in the mouth of every busybody who blabbed business that wasn’t theirs. A dirty sock. That would teach them for running their mouth.

And I wonder why the judge assigned me a month of anger management class. No. She didn’t wonder. The whole thing was one big conspiracy against her. Judge Owens still held a grudge because of that one time in high school when she beat his daughter, Jessica, in the mathalon. So now she had to take stupid anger management classes that the stupid judge ordered her to complete because her stupid ex-boyfriend pressed charges when she keyed his stupid car.

The whole world is a big ball of stupid!

She gave a tight smile. “Yeah. On my way there now.”

“Well, have fun,” Alice chuckled, but gave her a sympathetic smile.

Have fun? It was a good thing she liked the food truck owner who made the best breakfast burritos in Kismet or she might think about tossing it in the woman’s face. Not really, they were excellent burritos, it’d be a waste. Besides, it wasn’t Alice’s fault Charlie was in a crappy mood.

She just hated dealing with people some days. People like her asshole ex who deserved every damn scrape her tiny, metal keys did to his precious sports car. It was warranted for what her ex, Blain Starkweather—yes that was his real last name, like some crazy supervillain—had done to her. What he’d done to poor Puddles. Dickwad! She still couldn’t believe the asshole got her act of revenge on tape. Her fault really. She should have known better than to exact vengeance at the gas station. They were the only business in town with outside security cameras.

Why the hell did I ever date him again?

Puddles.

And there it was. The ache in her chest as a sweet vision filled her mind. Round bulging eyes so full of love, soft brown fur, a flat wrinkled nose that always made the most adorable snoring sound at night. The rotund body with the perfectly curled tail always wagging so enthusiastically whenever she came over. Puddles the wonder Pug. Looking back, Charlie could admit to herself the only reason she stayed with Blain as long as she had was because of Puddles. She loved that damn dog. So much so she stuck it out for much longer than she should have.

And that monster just gave him away like nothing to those horrible people.

“Asshole deserved to have his car torn to shreds!”

But since she wasn’t the Hulk—despite what her brothers called her when she ripped into them for whatever idiotic thing they’d done lately—she had to quell her anger with a simple car keying. And it worked. Until Sheriff Gray came knocking on her door and hauled her down to the station. One court appointment later she’d been charged with destruction of property. The judge ordered her to pay the damages and attend anger management classes.

“Stupid. Sucking. Life.”

It just wasn’t fair.

She hurried down the sidewalk, pulling her coat tight around her. May in Colorado could go one of two ways, surface of the sun hot or freezing chill. Though yesterday she’d worn shorts, today looked to be shaping up for a freeze. She picked up the pace, heading toward the community center where her class was being held.

The hot burrito warmed her palm. As she unwrapped the top of the warm heaven filled tortilla, her phone chimed indicating a text message. She pulled the slim device out of her back pocket, silently cursing the designer of women's fashion for refusing to make front pockets that held anything more useful than a slip of paper. A smile curled her lips when she read the text from Cassie.

Cassie: Remember it’s anger management so don’t bite the teacher’s head off. Not even if he says something stupid.

Everyone knew Charlie didn’t take crap from anyone. Especially men. A personality hazard of growing up the only girl surrounded by brother who always thought they were right, but rarely were.

Charlie: I’ll be good.

Cassie: I’ll believe that the day I see it!

She laughed at her best friend’s response. Mood rising, her attention was so focused on her phone she didn’t even see the brick wall she crashed into.

“Sonofabitch!”

Hot, melted cheese, and spicy smelling sausage flew from the tortilla as it slipped from her grasp. Red, chunky salsa spilled from the wrap, landing on the sidewalk like a horrible crime scene. Burrito death, nine am. A whimper escaped her. She hadn’t even gotten one bite and now it lay there all over the sidewalk. The saddest looking splat of wasted food she’d ever seen.

The contents of the burrito had splayed across the sidewalk and onto the shoes of the person she’d run into. Not a brick wall as she’d first assumed, but a living, breathing human judging by the dark men’s dress shoes and tan slacks in the edge of her vision. Shoes now covered in her delicious breakfast. Former breakfast.

Dammit! She didn’t get her spicy, cheesy, meaty morning fix, she had to go to anger management, and now she’d be late because of some jackass who couldn’t move out of the damn way! Fire burning deep in her chest, she raised her head to rip whoever the hell it was a new one, when the words caught in the back of her throat.

Sweet mother of sexy!

Her jaw dropped open, but no words came out. How could they when faced with such…magnificence? The white man in front of her stood tall, taller than any of her brothers, and that was saying something since the twins clocked in at six three. This guy had to be at least six five. And built. Not overly huge, like those bodybuilders her ex always went on and on about—she never understood the appeal of working out so much that your neck disappeared. This guy had a build much like her brothers. Toned and tight, as if he’d spent time sticking to a strict exercise regimen.

The bright morning sun reflected off his glasses, blinding her for a moment until he turned his head. She blinked, taking in his dark, almost inky black hair that was neatly trimmed. He had a square jaw with zero facial hair. Normally she liked a little stubble, but his lack of scruff revealed a small dent in the right cheek. Oh hell, did he have a dimple? She was a sucker for dimples. Dark brown eyes blinked behind his dark blue rimmed glasses.

The man’s head tilted down, feet shuffling slightly as he kicked the spilled food off his shoes. Some had gotten on the bottom of his tan slacks too, creating a Rorschach like stain. He raised his head to glance at her. His eyes, framed with seriously unfairly long, charcoal black lashes, stared at her. Full lips—lips she wanted to devour on site—quirked up, as did one dark brown eyebrow.

Angry at the loss of the best breakfast burrito ever, her current situation, and the stupid lusty feeling running through her, Charlie did what she always did when a situation made her uncomfortable. She went on the offensive.

“Watch where you’re going, asshole.”

The man’s second brow came up to join the first. “Where I’m going?”

“Yeah,” she bent down to grab as much of the spilled food as she could, tossing it in the nearby trash can with a sigh. “You don’t own the sidewalk, ya know.”

Those luscious lips tightened for a moment before he spoke. “True, but neither do you. Perhaps you should look where you’re walking instead of focusing on your phone.” He glanced pointedly at her hand, still clutching her cell. “Walking and texting can be just as dangerous as texting and driving.”

“Gee, thanks. What are you, my dad?” Impossible since her father died when she was a kid.

“Just a concerned citizen. Are you okay?”

What? Was this guy for real? She bumped into him, spilled her burrito all over the sidewalk and his shoes—a claim she would vehemently deny if anyone asked—and he asked if she was okay? What the hell was his angle?

“Screw you!” With that parting shot she brushed past him, making sure to give him a small shoulder nudge as she went, to let him know she didn’t suffer fools.

Big mistake.

The moment her shoulder grazed his arm bolts of electricity shot through her entire body. Her nipples hardened, pressing against the soft silk of her bra. Damn traitors. She was done with men, no matter how tall and sexy they were. They brought nothing but trouble and heartburn. Exhibit A, sexy professor looking dude already caused her to spill her breakfast. Plus, she would now be late to her class.

So ya, screw him. She didn’t need to get all tingly and shit over a guy. When the urges arose, she had a perfectly good vibrator at home. Who needed a man? Not her, no siree.

“Keep your eyes up,” tall, dark haired, and stupidly sexy called to her as she headed up the stairs into the community center.

She kept walking, flipping him the bird as she pushed through the building’s doors. Hopefully whoever ran this stupid class wouldn’t be upset with her arriving a few minutes late. It was the first day. Surely everyone got a pass on the first day. She wished she could lie and say she got lost, but it would never work. Charlie had lived in Kismet her entire life. Knew this town like the back of her hand.

They were a small community, no more than five thousand. Most people knew each other. So why the hell didn’t she recognize that sexy slice of man-cake on the sidewalk?

Tourist probably.

Just as well. It would be best if she never ran into him again. Literally or figuratively. She was done with men. D-O-N-E done. Guys just brought trouble and heartache. Two things she could really do without in her life, thank you very much.

She made her way into the main room—there were only three if you didn’t count the bathrooms—to see a small group already gathered. Life had finally decided to stop giving her the middle finger, because it appeared class hadn’t started yet. A circle of chairs had been set out. People milled about, some sitting, some standing by a small table filled with cookies and — thank you universe —a large coffee pot. If she couldn’t have her breakfast burrito at least she could get her caffeine fix. Charlie hurried over to the table, grabbing a small Styrofoam cup and pressing down on the plastic spigot attached to the metal coffee tin.

Dark, life-giving liquid poured into her cup. She brought it up to her face, the steam stinging slightly, but she didn’t care. Coffee. Manna from the heavens.

“Ohhhhh yeah, come to mama.”

“You gonna drink that or take it to bed?”

She turned at the caustic voice, a smile tilting her lips at the sour face she spied behind her.

“Apple. I didn’t know you were taking this class. This has to be, what, the fourth time Judge Owens assigned you anger management?”

“Fifth,” the old woman sniffed, grabbing a chocolate chip cookie from the large tray sitting next to the cups. “Old bastard is still upset I turned him down for the Valentine’s dance three years ago.”

“Come on, Apple.” While it may be true the old woman had turned the Judge down, she didn’t believe for a second the man would act so unprofessionally. Even if she liked to think her sentence was due to some long-ago blight, she knew the Judge was fair. In fact, she probably got off easier than she would have if the crime had occurred in Denver where her ex lived. “What really happened?”

Dark eyes lined with crow’s feet narrowed. “Fine. I may have thrown some merchandise at some hoodlums vandalizing my prize-winning rose bushes.”

Apple and her sister Olive ran a boutique store. The sisters grew magnificent roses just outside their shop, but she didn’t think they’d won any awards, save for the ones Apple concocted in her mind. Still, it wouldn’t be the first time the old crank had taken someone in town to task over her beloved flowers. There was a reason the entire town had nicknamed her Crab Apple.

“The Dooley boys?”

“Who else?” Apple bit into the cookie, crunching with more force than necessary for such a soft dessert. “Those kids are a menace I tell you. But Gray doesn’t believe me.”

Since the Dooley boys were honor roll students and Eagle Scouts to boot, she doubted they were teenage degenerates, but no one argued with Apple. It was a fruitless endeavor.

“What are you in for?” The old woman grabbed another cookie, shoving the last of her first one into her mouth. “That car thing with your boyfriend?”

She turned, grabbing some sugar and cream to doctor up her coffee rather than watch Apple’s jaw flap open and close with bits of chocolate chip cookie in it. Her stomach grumbled once again, wishing for the burrito it was promised but never received. “ Ex boyfriend and yes.”

“Got what he deserved if you ask me.”

“You don’t even know what he did to piss me off.”

“He’s a man. All he needs to do is exist.”

A chuckle escaped her lips. Sometimes she really loved Apple.

“Well, you’re right there. And believe me, he totally deserved it, but unfortunately it was caught on tape and now I have to suffer the consequences.”

“It’s not that bad.”

She turned back to face the woman. “Oh yeah? Who’s the teacher?”

Apple shrugged. “Used to be Mrs. Aimes.”

Her fourth-grade teacher. Score! Mrs. Aimes loved her. This class would be a piece of cake.

“But,” Apple continued, squashing her hopes for an easy ride. “Lana moved to Florida last month to live with her daughter and new grandbaby. We got the new guy.”

“New guy?”

“All I know is he’s new in town and taking over the class.”

Well, that sucked. A local she could deal with. Everyone knew her. They knew she was harmless. Slight temper, sure, but who wouldn’t be mad at the world in her situation? Most of the folks in town gave her a pass on her bitchiness on account of her family’s…tragic past. Sure, it happened years ago, but did you ever really get over losing a parent?

“Well, hopefully this guy is as good as Mrs. Aimes.”

Apple laughed, bits of chocolate flying from the corners of her mouth. Charlie quickly stepped to the side.

“Oh honey, no one will be as good as Lana. The woman gave us packets to fill out on our feelings and spent the rest of the class knitting. It was heaven. The boys and I had a weekly poker game going. I won fifty bucks last meeting.”

Damn. That was the kind of class she could really get into. Hopefully this new guy would be as lackluster about his job as Mrs. Aimes had been.

“Sorry I’m late everyone.”

The deep, rich voice echoed in the room. With her back to the door, Charlie couldn’t see the speaker, but she assumed it was their new teacher.

“I had a small accident, but I’m here now.”

Now why did that voice sound so familiar? Her hand paused, coffee halfway to her lips. The rich aroma firing the neurons in her brain, waking them up as a horrifying realization hit her.

“Oh no,” the words left her lips on a whisper. It couldn’t be.

“Holy smokes!” Apple whistled low between her teeth. “Bless Lana’s daughter for squeezing one out. I don’t care what he teaches us as long as I get to stare at him while he does it. Hello handsome.”

It could-not-freaking-be!

“If everyone could please take a seat, we’ll get started.”

Charlie finally worked up the courage to turn her head. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at tall, dark haired, and burrito pants-stained sexy brick wall from earlier. His eyes focused on her, a slight smile curving those tempting lips. Humor lit his gaze as he spoke to the class, but his focus never wavered from her. She felt caught in his gaze, unable to look away. A low fluttering hit her gut. When his lips curved into a full-blown smile, dimple fully revealing itself, the fluttering turned into a tornado.

“So nice to see you all. I’m Luc Woolf and I’ll be your teacher for the next month. Welcome to anger management.”

Well shit!