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

“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 ask, 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.

“Joselyn, 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.

The man’s back is turned toward the house until he hears the door close. My heart rolls in my chest. He’s an older version of Dean. The same dark hair, only with a few gray tufts. His blue eyes are heavy, older with deep, harsh lines. I shudder. I have noticed the same lines appearing around Dean’s warm eyes. The two are close in height. Clive’s not near as muscular or handsome as Dean, but when you look beyond his rugged edges, the father son genetics are undeniable.

“Ms. Tillman.” He removes his hat, holding it at his side.

“Mr. Covington.” My curt tone causes me to stand up straighter, jutting my chin in the air.

“I’m real sorry to just pop in on you like this. I know how we left things on the phone and we had a plan.”

“No, Mr. Covington, I had a plan. You agreed to it, at least I thought you had. Now that you’re standing here on my porch, I’m only left to assume that you’ve taken it upon yourself to alter that plan.”

He clenches his jaw and it suddenly hits me. I know nothing about this man, other than the fact that he’s Dean’s father and an ex-convict. I don’t even know if he’s dangerous, with the exception of the obvious threat.

“Like I said, I’m sorry for just showing up.” He tilts his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m not here to start any trouble or step on any toes.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I just wanna see my son. After catching up with Mel, I decided it probably wasn’t a real good idea to hijack his wedding day and all. Thought maybe it might be a good time to man up and come on out to face him head on. Hell, the wedding’s tonight anyway, right?”

I twist my lips. Folding my arms across my chest, I attempt to disguise my rapid heartbeat.

Clive shoves his hands into his jean pockets and continues. “Again, I know it ain’t how you and Mel wanted this thing to go down, but I feel like I owe my boy at least that.”

Shit
.

I don’t want anything to do with this man. Not after the way Dean left at the mention of his name. But I sure as shit wasn’t expecting him to show up out of nowhere and do the right thing. My lungs are heavy as my chest swells.

“I promise to leave just as soon as we’re done. Can you tell him I’m here?”

I nip at my bottom lip to hide the trembling. Tears pool in the corners of my bloodshot eyes.

“Yeah, I wish I could. As soon as I brought up your name, Dean up and left. No explanation or anything. Just a note that said he couldn’t do this and that he was sorry. Mr. Covington, I have no idea what you did to your family, or what Dean thinks you did before you were sent away, but I can assure of one thing. This is not going to be the homecoming you’re hoping for. He’s one hurt, pissed off man. You may have to sit this one out.”