Whiskey Wedding (Tasting Nashville series Book 3) (2 page)

“I hope you’re right.” Sometimes my own head fucks with me. Not about getting married, but about being the best for her. I would never forgive myself for fucking up her life. “Looks like we’d better get back to work before Judy has both our hides.”

*

It’s the perfect night to start a fire. I pile on the wood and set up my girl’s chair. I pop the cap on her beer and wait for her to join me.

Perfection.

Over the next two weeks Judy manages to keep Joselyn busy hustling around with fittings, table settings, and seating charts. I’m hoping this is exactly what she needs to get excited and let her hair down.

“Hey baby.”

The sight of my future bride wearing her favorite worn out jeans, an old Whiskey Bent shirt, and her hair up in a hat makes everything right in my world. One smile erases all of my self-doubt. All of insecurities. All of my imperfections.

“Hey, sugar. Got ya a cold beer and a warm seat.” I smack my knee and my heart pounds like a damn jackhammer as she takes me up on my offer. The woman gives me butterflies, or whatever that bullshit is that people talk about.

“How’d everything go with Judy today?”

Joselyn snickers while taking a swig off her first beer. “The old woman’s a slave driver.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She twists her lips into a yummy grin. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Everything is really coming together. I can’t believe the wedding is so close. Hell, people will start coming in soon.”

“Yep, Rick and I will be clearing some area for the travel trailers. He managed to wrangle up ten. I think that should be plenty. We only have a few people staying on the grounds for the weekend. Everyone else will be heading back into Nashville after the reception.”

“Shit, that reminds me. I need to check on the linens. Judy also made some welcome baskets for the overnighters. Is Uncle Mel getting excited?” She asks.

“Hell, he said he’d be here by now if he could get away from the Bone Picker. I think he wants to be able to call himself helping. He’s gotta be fitted for his tux anyway. They’re probably gonna have to let it out a few more inches. That damn man lives on greasy barbecue.”

“It’ll all work out. If Judy has her way about it, for sure.” Joselyn giggles. She has no idea that the sweet sound works like an aphrodisiac for me. “Do you know how many we’re up to now?”

I shake my head and widen my eyes while finishing off my beer. Actually, it’s a question that I’ve been scared to ask. We talked about a small wedding, close friends, a few family members, which mostly consists of our musical family. However, after seeing the inside of the house, I think our quaint, little get together is now a full-fledged celebrity affair. My stomach lurches.

Joselyn drops her head. Not a good sign.

She takes in a deep inhale before releasing it slowly. “Apparently, Sylvia has dipped into the client list. She’s insisted on inviting major A-listers. We’re at a hundred and eighty confirmed.”

“Are you shitting me? We said sixty, eighty tops.”

She just sighs, defeated. “I know. It’s not what we talked about. Judy has been taking care of the increase in the menu. I think it’s too late to cut anyone out. We just have to suck it up and deal.”

“That’s right, sugar. Let them have their show. We know why we’re here.”

I gaze at my best friend. Our future is uncertain, but damn, it’s going to be a delicious ride.

CHAPTER THREE

Joselyn

I hide my cell in my hoodie and run off to barricade myself in the bathroom, dialing Uncle Mel’s number.

“Hey, darlin. How’s my favorite, little gal?” He asks with a snicker. His deep, baritone voice reminds me of the way his portly belly jiggles when he laughs. We were at odds once, but not now, not ever again. He really stepped up. He was there for Dean during my cancer treatments. He flew on a plane for the first time to come and visit me in Los Angeles. It became clear how much Dean relied on him, looked up to him as an actual father figure. Once I saw him through Dean’s eyes, the big bear was easy to love.

“She’s turning into a bridezilla.” I struggle to maintain a whisper.

“Oh, I doubt that. Besides, everything’s covered on my end. The plan’s all set.”

My insides quake. “Are you sure? Everything’s ready? I’m not so sure that we should keep it as a surprise. Don’t you think we should tell him?”

“Look darlin’,” Mel chuckles. “Quit your worrying. It’s all gonna be ok. We’re gonna stick to the plan and watch it work its magic. All you gotta do is show up and be your gorgeous self. Have I ever let you down?”

“Never.”

“Exactly. Now, you just try to enjoy this time. I’ll call tomorrow and update you on the details.”

“Speaking of that, how’s it going having company?” I ask. We’ve been working on a wedding surprise for Dean. Although, now, I’m wishing I hadn’t agreed to the half-baked plan. Dean was a ball of nerves lately and this could certainly put him over the edge.

“Not bad. And with the extra help at work, I have more time to pick up the ladies, if you know what I’m sayin’.

“Uncle Mel, I sure do love you.”

He just laughs. “Love you too, sweet girl.”

*

The next few days were long, but productive. This wedding is actually going to happen. I’m thrown off kilter by the rush of excitement at the thought of wearing a veil and gown.

Butterflies flutter in my chest like a little girl with a toilet paper dress and a towel on her head acting as a veil.

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.