Whiskey Wedding (Tasting Nashville series Book 3) Read online

  Mrs. Dean Covington.

  I try not to panic. Marriage had never been on my radar, to the point of turning down multiple proposals from the man of my dreams. I think somewhere along the way, I picked up the philosophy that nothing good ever comes from marriage, only broken hearts and dreams.

  It literally took lying on my death bed to realize that I had been acting like a total bitch. I can’t believe Dean stayed with me for all those years. All he wanted was to be with me. Once I realized that all I wanted was the same thing, I finally asked him to marry me.

  I’ll never forget the look on his face. Priceless.

  “Hey, sweetie. You ok?”

  “Damn, sorry, Judy. You scared the shit out of me.”

  “I see that, everything good?”

  I nod. “Yes, my head’s just all over the place. I can’t even think straight anymore.”

  She touches my hand. “Sweetheart, you have a lot on your plate. It’s understandable. I hope I’m helping, at least a little.”

  “Oh God, you’ve been a complete lifesaver! I seriously have no idea what I would do if you weren’t here.” I pull her in for a tight embrace.

  “Good, that’s what I like to hear. I just want to make things easier on you. You deserve the most amazing wedding, and dammit, I’m gonna make sure you get it.”

  Before I have a chance to say thank you, the vibration of my cell phone pulls my attention away.

  “Can you excuse me for a second?”

  “Of course.” Judy smiles and slips away. I’ve never known someone so kind and considerate. So easy going. She’s a force and I am thankful.

  “Ms. Tillman?” a deep voice asks.

  “Yes, speaking.”

  “Um, yeah, I’m sorry to call you directly. I got your number from Mel.”

  I struggle to place the voice, assuming it was Whiskey Bent business. “And you are?”

  “Shit, I’m sorry, ma’am. My name’s Clive, Clive Covington.”

  My heart stalls in my chest. “And you said you got this number from Mel?” I knew it was a lie. Mel would never give out my number. And certainly not to him. He had promised.

  “Well, I have to be honest. I snagged it from his phone while the old man was taking a nap in the office.”

  “You’re Dean’s father.” The words are muted.

  “Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t get in touch sooner. I’ve been trying to get my ducks in a row before reaching out. Hell, I didn’t even know if y’all would want to hear from me. I was real excited when Mel filled me in on the big day.”

  “Why are you calling now?” I realize the pointed question comes off rude, but I don’t care. I’m now in protective mode.

  “I understand your apprehension, I really do. I’m not calling to start any trouble or to ruin your plans. Mel told me what you’re up to, and that’s all I want as well. I promise.”

  It sounds too good to be true. Too easy. “Good, I’m relieved to hear that.”

  “That’s why I called. I want you to know that I have no intentions of screwing this up. I love my boy.”

  “Then we have the same goal in mind.”

  “Absolutely. But, um, I do have one thing I’d like to run by ya.”

  For the love of God, please don’t ask to move in or for money. That’s all Dean needs to hammer the last nail in poor Clive’s coffin.

  “I’m listening.” Again with the tone.

  “After talking to Mel and thinking on it some,” he stalls. “I’m not so sure it’s a good idea to spring this on my boy.”

  His territorial words rub me the wrong way.

  “Well, Clive, I think I might now your boy a little better than you. Mel and I have a plan and we made that plan with Dean in mind. We know him better than you, better than anyone. If you have a problem with what we’ve come up with, it’s not too late to call the entire thing off.” I knew that was too much to ask at this point, but it didn’t hurt to try. If he took the bait, Dean would be home our lives would be back on track.

  “No,” he stammers, shaking his head. “that’s not what I want at all. I’m ready to mend things with Dean. I’ll do it your way. It’s just a concern.”

  I thank him and offer a quick goodbye. My head is spinning. Dean’s never really talked much about his father. I know that he was in prison for twenty years. I know that Dean said if he ever ran into him, fists would fly. That about sums it up.

  For one fleeting moment, ok, for the hundredth fleeting moment, I second guess this plan.

  Surely he’ll forgive me. I tell myself it’s for the best, his best. He needs this. However, something doesn’t sit right with me after the phone call, prompting me to come to the decision that I have to at least test the waters before the wedding day.

  I run to the upstairs bathroom, ready to lay into Uncle Mel for not being a better bodyguard. I click the ‘call’ button, but quickly hit ‘end’ as Dean strolls into the room.

  “Hey, darlin. Who was that?”

  I shove the phone into my pocket. “Hey, I didn’t hear you come up the stairs.” I scan him up and down. He’s covered in mud. His t-shirt sticks to his chest and his jeans hang loosely off his defined hips. “What the hell happened to you?”

  Dean strips away his clothes and I’m instantly distracted.

  “Finally got all the RVs set up for the guests. We ran into a few problems, but you can check that off the to-do list.”

  “It looks like the mud one.”

  He chuckles. “Shit, you should see the other guy.” He crosses the room and coils his muscular arms around my hips, his hand dipping past the hem of my shorts.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  He gives me that hungry expression right before he leans and whispers. “Time to get you dirty.” His mouth crashes down on mine, backing me up to the wall. Dean’s skilled hands shed away my clothing. His warm lips devour my flesh, working his way down my slender tummy.

  Dropping to his knees, he presses his palms against the inside of my thighs. I submit, allowing them to fall open. My breath hitches as my muscles tighten. His expert touch sends a quiver through my core, his tongue lashing at the tiny bundle of nerves, causing my sex to pulse.

  My mind goes blank, as if there’s no one else, nothing else, but the two of us in the world – in this very moment.

  Not that it matters. At this point, I’m fairly certain I would give in and fuck Dean in front of a filled auditorium, repeatedly.

  *

  Somehow, we managed to make it to the bedroom, wrapped up in each other’s arms, sated and exhausted.

  “Damn, you really know how to work up a man’s appetite.”

  “Too bad, stud. You know I’m not cooking. Maybe June can whip you up a hearty sandwich.”

  Dean snickers. “Woman, please. I was the master of sandwich making long before you and your handicap kitchen skills came along. Besides, Rick and June are running into Nashville for the day. It’s just you and me, sugar.”

  He begins nuzzling my neck, clearly ready for round two. I suddenly feel queasiness rush through me, also known as a small window of opportunity. My tummy somersaults at the thought of bringing up the forbidden subject.

  “Do you think we can just talk for a while?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Dean

  My disappointed cock submits. When Joselyn wants to talk, the poor guy doesn’t stand a chance.

  “Sure, baby. What’s on your mind?” I rest my back against the headboard and pull her in, nestling her against my chest.

  I notice the way she squirms. Joselyn’s rarely uncomfortable. This makes me sit up a little straighter.

  “What is it, baby? You’re starting to scare me.”

  I feel the pressure of her lungs fill with air before she slowly exhales. My heart races. Horrific scenarios fill my head. The cancer came back. She’s calling off the wedding. My mouth goes dry.

  “So, I was talking with Uncle Mel the other day.”

  “Is he sick?” I a
sk, panicked.

  Joselyn sits up in the bed, tugging a pillow onto her lap. “No! Why would you ask that?”

  “Shit, are you sick?”

  She peers at me through long, damp lashes. “Why is that the first place your mind goes?”

  “Because, it’s my biggest fear. And you’re being all cryptic and shit. I can tell you’re not comfortable with whatever the hell it is that you want to talk about so that can only mean bad news. Are you calling off the wedding? Don’t you want to marry me?”

  My own words echo in my head, bouncing around like a living nightmare.

  She rushes in, straddling my lap and pressing her lips to my neck. My arms are around her before I have a second to think. I hold her tight, squeezing my eyes shut, preparing for the worst.

  The warmth of her breath sends a shudder through me.

  “Dean, I am not sick.” She grips my face with her delicate hands. “And there is nothing more in this world that matters to me than becoming your wife. You’re stuck with me, stud. Deal with it.”

  A wave of relief ripples through my body. The big puff of air makes my girl giggle. For a brief moment, I actual think I may have overreacted.

  “I want to talk about Clive.”

  My back snaps straight. “You can’t be serious.” My voice is deep, harsh.

  “Come on now. Don’t get pissed. Don’t you think it’s time to have this conversation? He was released weeks ago and the wedding is happening tomorrow.”

  I jump up from the bed and snag a pair of jeans from the floor. “I don’t give two shits if the son of bitch has been out for weeks or years. Doesn’t make a damn bit of difference to me.”

  “Dean, just stop for a minute.”

  I grab the first t-shirt I can find and bolt. I hear Joselyn’s confused voice calling after me. I can’t bring myself to stop – or to care.

  *

  “Fuck!” The poor, innocent bucket flies through the air, crashing into the barn wall, sending feed across the stable.

  My insides grumble. My chest swells.

  I hate myself. I hate the way I left Joselyn standing in the house alone. I’m tormented by her gorgeous, round eyes full of tears. I’ve never been able to contain my temper, but I was getting better. I haven’t been this angry in years.

  I know her. She’s giving me my space. It kills her to give me time. She wants to face it head on. But I’m a loner. That’s never going to change. I deal with the shit life throws my way on my own. It’s easier. Less distractions. Less complications. Less risk.

  And Mel, what the hell was he thinking? If anyone knew how much I didn’t want Clive in my life, it’s him. The man who spent his life taking care of someone else’s abandoned, troubled kid. He didn’t have to take that shit on, but he did. He chose me. Shit, I suppose I kind of chose him too. I stayed. That has to say something.

  But now, I’ve been betrayed. I knew Clive was out. I knew and didn’t give a shit. Still don’t. The son of a bitch can rot in hell for all I care.

  *

  “Morning, baby.”

  Joselyn stands above me, holding a cup of hot coffee. Steam rolls off the top of the mug as I stir, rubbing my heavy eyes with the balls of my palms.

  “Hey, sugar.”

  “I can’t believe you slept out here all night. Your back ok?”

  My pride hurts as I stretch, attempting to ignore the pain from my back. She knows me too well. “All good.”

  “Good, we need to talk.”

  There it is. My chest bows. What the fuck is happening to me? I’m never like this with Joselyn. Just another reason to hate the son of a bitch.

  “I ain’t got nothing to say.”

  She shrugs her smooth shoulders. “Sounds to me like you might have a lot to say.”

  “Dammit Joselyn. Can’t you get it through your head? I don’t want to talk about him. I care as much about him as he did me and my momma. Not one fucking bit. I don’t care that he’s out. I don’t care if he’s off fucking some meth head. I don’t care that he’s my fucking sperm donor. Don’t you get it? I. Don’t. Care.”

  My lungs are on fire. I see the way she twists her lips. Without a word, she turns and walks away, leaving me standing in the barn fuming. The image of her misty eyes is burned on my brain. I know I should go after her, but I don’t.

  Instead, I scribble a short note, leaving it on the fridge. I grab my keys and head for my truck. It would be a better escape plane if I knew where I was going. I simply drive, putting as much distance between reality and myself as I can.

  Instead of heading down the aisle, I’m heading down the fucking road, leaving Joselyn behind.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Joselyn

  Rick busts through the back door. “He’s not on the property. I searched everywhere.”

  My stomach tightens and the tears spill.

  The crumbled slip of paper in my hand reads, ‘I can’t. I’m sorry.’

  “Why is he doing this?” I drop my head into my hands and bawl.

  Judy rubs my shoulders. “I don’t know, hun, but I’m sure he’s got a good reason. That boy is head over heels in love with you. Marriage is all he’s wanted for years. Y’all just had a fight. He’ll be back, you’ll see.”

  “But it’s our wedding day. People are going to start showing up and the groom is nowhere to be found. He may be blowing off steam, but he should have, at the very least, stuck around and thrown his tantrum instead of leaving me here to explain this bullshit to everyone.

  “I’m sorry, baby girl. He’ll be here. I know he will. We have plenty of time. The beauty of a night wedding.”

  I shake my head, pissed that the tears betray my inner strength. “It’s too late. He left. That’s on him. Now, I’m left figuring out the next step. How the hell am I supposed to cancel a wedding on such short notice?”

  Judy’s eyes mist over. I notice Rick shake his head as he stares at his boots. Clearly, I’m not the only one who’s pissed and confused.

  “Sweetheart, canceling the wedding at this point would be a huge undertaking. People are probably already traveling.”

  Listening to Judy only causes my heart to leap into my throat. All the people who have already bought their plane tickets, new clothes, sitters, and whatever else they do to prepare for a destination wedding makes me sick to my stomach.

  How could Dean leave me to deal with this clusterfuck? If he had just listened to what I had to say, we wouldn’t be in this mess. But no, he had to be bull headed and take off. In the last seven years, he’s never once behaved like this. Obviously there’s shit about his dad that I don’t know, and it doesn’t look like I ever will.

  Judy pulls a chair up in front of me. “I’m not saying any of this to make things more difficult on ya, hun. I’m just thinking, as awkward as it might be, it may be better to go ahead with the plans, minus the wedding of course.”

  “What do you mean, like the reception or something?” Rick questions.

  His wife nods. “Exactly like that. There’s a lot to celebrate. We can just make it a downhome, southern shindig. Good food, drinks, and dancing until the sun comes up. What do ya think?”

  I can’t even bring myself to smile. I know how hard the older woman is trying, but it’s pointless. I want to crawl into bed and die. I check my cell phone for the hundredth time. Nothing.

  “Can I think on it?”

  “Sure, hun. Although, I hate to say it, we’re on a time crunch here. The sooner the better.”

  I stand. “I’m going to try to get a nap. Will you wake me up if you hear anything?”

  “Of course. Get you some rest, and I’ll stay on track until you tell me otherwise.” Judy gave me a tight squeeze. Rick twisted his lips into a sympathetic grin, making me want to vomit.

  Dean.

  My not so shining knight in Chuck T’s.

  *

  A light tap on the door stirs me from a much needed nap. My body feels as if it’s been hit by a semi-truck.

  “Josel
yn, sweetie, are you awake?”

  “I’m up, Judy. Come on in.” I pull my knees up to my chest. My puffy, swollen eyes burn from the long crying session.

  “I brought you some tea, sweetie.” She places the small serving tray on the bedside table. “How you doing, hun?”

  The simple question makes me chuckle, something I do when I’m uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, really. I’m ok. Thank you.” I sip the hot liquid, allowing peppermint to sooth my aching chest.

  She pats my knee and sits down.

  “I wish I knew what to say. I’m just at a loss.” I breathe in a deep sigh as stinging tears spill over my ashen cheeks.

  “There’s not a lot to say, sweetie. We know what’s going on. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.”

  I smile at my friend. A faint, halfhearted smile, but at least it’s an effort. “I appreciate that. You guys have done too much already. I can’t let you take care of this mess. Dean should be here cleaning up his own shit.”

  I drop my face in my hands again. I’m unable to get the sobbing under control. I feel like an idiot. He’s never done anything like this before. I’m embarrassed, ashamed, and beyond pissed. The tears are no longer sad or heartbroken tears. No, I’ve moved on. They’re now run for your life, pissed off tears. They’re you fucking left me tears. They’re disappointed tears.

  “No word?” I told myself that I wouldn’t ask. If Dean had called, it would have been the first thing out of Judy’s mouth. And after the pained expression on her beautiful, weathered face, I wish I hadn’t.

  “Sorry, hun.”

  The sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs sends me reeling out of bed and rushing to the doorway. My heart plummets when I see Rick.

  “Uh,” he stammers. “Joselyn, there’s someone here to see you. I didn’t know if you were up for it. If not, I can tell him to take a hike.”

  My brow creases.

  Rick clears his throat before continuing. “Sounds like he’s a relative of Dean’s or something. Clive Covington?”

  My pulse skyrockets. Adrenaline rushes through my body. This man has crossed the line. I run down the stairs two at a time. Standing on the opposite side of the door, I smooth my hair back, even though I have no idea why. I struggle to steady my breathing before turning the knob. I don’t invite him in, choosing to step out on to the porch.