Read Whiskey Wedding (Tasting Nashville series Book 3) Online

Authors: Kimmie Easley

Tags: #Country Romance

Whiskey Wedding (Tasting Nashville series Book 3) (4 page)

BOOK: Whiskey Wedding (Tasting Nashville series Book 3)
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Clive rests his hat on his head, adjusting it just right before turning toward the steps. “I’m real sorry to hear that, Ms. Tillman. I’ll find him and set things straight. I’m not one to tuck tail and run. Giving up is not an option. You hold on tight and keep the dust off that wedding dress.”

I watch him hop off the porch and head to his black Jeep Wrangler. The taillights disappear down the long, dirt driveway. Two Covington men. This time the roles are reversed. Dean is on the run with Clive is off to save the day.

 

 

CHAPTER SIX

Dean

Fuck!

My voice bounces off the metal of the old truck. I slam the pedal harder. I have no plan. No call to action. I can’t even fucking see straight. The rage boils deep down in my gut. I will never forgive that son of a bitch.

Never.

My only remorse is getting Joselyn tangled up in this bullshit. The Covington curse.

I peel down the backroad. The clouds part, revealing the intense sun, concealing the large buck darting across the road.

“Oh shit!”

I swerve to the left, sending the tires spinning against the damp pavement. The tail end of the truck slides off the rocky shoulder, slamming the driver’s side of the old truck into a massive tree.

My head bounces off the side window. I attempt to roll my neck, but the shooting pain through my skull sends me backwards. I glance at my surroundings.

Wide, round eyes stare back at me before the deer hops away through the thick brush.

I force the passenger door open and scramble out of the truck, falling to the ground. My left side is throbbing, probably already starting a nasty damn bruise. I struggle to make sense of everything. My entire life is out of fucking control. And it’s all thanks to Clive Covington.

I can’t even say his name without wanting to spit god damn nails.

I check my cell. No service. The only thing left to do is start walking.

 

*

 

The VW bus pulls up to the front of The Bone Picker.

“Hey, thanks man. I really appreciate. You sure I can’t pay ya for the gas or something ?” I ask the shaggy haired teen behind the wheel.

“Naw, I’m good. I got a cool new story to try out on the chicks. They’ll never believe that I picked Dean Covington up hitchhiking. Seriously, thanks for taking that picture. Pure gold.”

I chuckle at the thought as I hop out of the van. My head is still pounding. My legs ache from sitting in the same position. I stretch, sending bolts of pain through my left knee.

“You sure I can’t get you to a doctor or the emergency room or something?”

“Thanks, but no. I got family here. They’ll have me bandaged up in no time.” I shut the passenger door.

The boy nods as I tip my hat. Cool kid. Makes me miss a simpler time.

I walk inside and am met with a wall of smoke and a lot of hooting and hollering. It’s always good to come home. I throw my hand up after shaking a few, trying to ignore the questions about my head.

“Boy, what the fuck are you doing here?”

I turn to find Uncle Mel standing with his hands on his nonexistent waistline.

“Good to see you too, Unc.” I reach in for a hug, but he shoves me away. “What’s your problem?”

“What the hell do you think my problem is? Aren’t you supposed to be at home? With your fiancé? Preparing for your wedding, which is
today
in case you didn’t know. I ought to kick your bullheaded ass.”

I rub my hand along my jaw and hop onto the counter. “So you already know then.”

“You’re damn right I already know. I’ve had to listen to our girl bawling on the phone because she doesn’t know what got into you, much less where the hell you are. How do you think Joselyn’s feeling right now?”

“She’s in pain, I know that. I’m not proud of what I did. Hell, I don’t even know where I was going. I got in an accident and hitched a ride. I just can’t go home yet.”

Mel crosses the room to the freezer and throws a white, paper package at his adopted nephew. “Bullshit. Throw a steak on your damn boo boo and fix things with her. I’m not gonna stand by and watch you fuck things up and break her heart. That girl’s been through enough and you know it.”

“Yeah, I know. I don’t want to hurt, Joselyn. She’s everything to me.”

“And yet, here you sit.”

“Dammit, Unc. It’s not that easy. Did she tell you what’s going on?”

“Son, I knew what was going on long before today.”

Confused, I furrow my brow. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means, your girl was trying to do something nice. She was trying to pull off the ultimate surprise. She knew your daddy got out of prison and she planned on having him sing at the wedding, you dumbass.”

“Damn, I didn’t know.” I close my eyes for a second. “Not that it would have changed anything. I don’t want anything to do with him. And I sure as shit don’t want him at my wedding. You were in on this crock of shit?”

He flings a dishtowel across the countertop. “Yeah, I tried to tell her it was a bad idea. I thought it might backfire. But you know her. She had her heart of gold set on making it happen. That girl gets to me like no one else. She makes me a big old softie. I got on board and crossed my fingers.”

“Dammit, Mel, you should have warned me or something. This is bad.”

“Why don’t you just call your woman. Make things right. Go back home, tie the knot, and call it a day.”

His words jumbled around in my thick skull. Maybe the old man is right? As I pull my cell from my pocket, a Jeep pulls up in front of the restaurant.

All of the air is sucked from my body as Clive Covington, my sperm donor, steps out. He reaches for the front door and our gazes lock. I pull back my shoulders, struggling to restrain myself from losing it in the middle of my uncle’s bread and butter.

“Boy, don’t do anything stupid.” Mel chucks me in the arm. “Hey, brother,” he spouts before extending his hand.

I observe like a hungry vulture. They shake hands, Clive smiles, but never stops staring at me. I flare my nostrils and pull my lips into a hard line.

“Son,” he says with a nod.

“Clive.”

My backhanded response makes him drop his head.

Mel huffs, folds his arms across his chest, and peers back and forth. “You two look like you might have some things to work out.”

“I ain’t got a damn word to say to this prick.”

Clive shakes his head. “Don’t be like that, son.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Ok,” he nods. “How you been, Dean?”

“How the hell do you think I’ve been? How long have you been out?”

Mel slowly backs away and ducks into the kitchen.

Clive clicks the tip of his new, pointed toe boots along the floor. “A couple weeks now.”

“Didn’t take long to go shopping. Who’d you hit up for a handout?” I tip my head toward the concrete.

“You always did assume the worst of me, didn’t you?” He pauses. I ignore the snide comment, only because it’s true. “No handouts. Not this time. Mel set me up as a cook. These came out of my first paycheck. Like ‘em? I can pick you up a pair.”

“I don’t need shit from you. Besides, not exactly my style.” I adjust my stance as his gaze falls on my chucks.

“Yeah, I guess not. Surprised to see ya here. We must have passed each other on the road.”

My blood boils. I roll my neck, praying he’s not saying what I think he’s saying.

“It was a real pleasure meeting my future daughter-in-law. Joselyn’s a sweet girl.”

“Don’t you fucking mention her. You don’t deserve to say her name. Who the hell do you think you are?” My voice echoes, catching the attention of the day’s customers. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about family. You stay the fuck away from mine!”

“Boy, no matter how hard you try otherwise, you are my family. You will always be my family.”

“You don’t exist to me. You’re nothing. Not even a fucking blip on my radar.” I struggle to control my haggard breathing. My chest is heavy and searing as if I’d just been hit with a cannonball. Emotions and shit burn in my gut.

I’ve been reduced to a fucking child.

“What do you know about Joselyn?” I ask, pumping my fists. I give Clive a hard scowl as he scuffs the tip of his new boot on the cement.

“Don’t start getting all pissy. I went up there to talk to you. To clear the air before the big day. You know this was all her idea, right?” He hooks his thumbs into his pockets. “She and Mel have been cooking this up for a while now. Their wedding present to you. Thought it would be cool if I sang a song, like the good old days.”

“The good old days? The fucking good old days? Are you shitting me?” The room appeared to spin as everything went black.

I lunge.

My eager fist collides with the older version of me. Clive stumbles backwards into the front door. I barrel forward, sending both of us crashing through glass. We brawl for mere seconds before frenzied customers go wild pulling us apart.

My swollen chest heaves as Clive swipes blood from underneath his purple nose.

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

Joselyn

I flip the switch, leaving the room dark before stepping into the steamy bath.

I haven’t stopped crying all day. The sensitive skin around my eyes burn. I slip further into the scalding water. I feel like a heartbroken child. Hopeless. The situation is out of my control.

Is this how Dean felt when I was diagnosed? Rejected? Non-relevant?

I don’t know where he is or if he’s ok. I’ve never seen him so upset. Hell, I didn’t even tell him about the plan. The mere mention of his father sent him down the road. Here I am, left to decide how to tell people the wedding is off. My life is over. How would you like your steak cooked?

Somehow, I don’t think I can pull it off. Cancer, sure. Telling people my wedding has been called off, nope.

The tears return, slipping down my damp face and disappearing into the pool of water.

 

*

 

“Joselyn, honey, have you decided what you want to do?”

There was Judy and Rick, everywhere I turn. I know they mean well, but sometimes a girl would just like to crawl up in a corner and be left alone. But that’s not an option. I check my phone. Nothing from Dean. I’m going from pissed to worried in record time.

“Judy, where do you think he can be?”

“I don’t know, sweetie. I’ve tried Mel a few times but haven’t gotten an answer.”

“That’s so damn weird. I can’t get in touch with anyone. People are about to start arriving. I’m at a loss.” I’m pissed when the tears creep in the corners of my eyes. I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of feeling out of control and weak.

Rick pops his head in the backdoor. “Hey hun, can I see ya for a split second?”

Judy pats my leg. “I’ll be right back. Get some coffee in ya. It’s gonna be a long day.”

She’s right. I pour myself a generous mug of black coffee. I throw some ice in the cup hoping to be able to guzzle the hot liquid quicker. Before I get a chance, Judy rushes to my side.

“Ok, here’s the thing. Dean called Rick.”

I jump up from my chair. “He called Rick? And not me? What the fuck is going on? I feel like I’m going to lose my damn mind if someone doesn’t explain shit, real quick too.”

“He’s at Mel’s. He wants Rick to take you up there.”

“And what’s supposed to happen here? I just leave you behind to deal with the shit?”

Judy smiles. “Don’t worry about me, honey. I’ll be fine and I’m happy to take care of everything on this end.”

My insides somersault. At least I know he’s safe. Well, that is until I see him. I’m liable to knock his head off his shoulders for putting me through this.

“Well, I guess we better hit the road then.”

 

*

 

I was silent on the way to Nashville. Not that it would have done any good to try to get information from Rick. The man was in the military and still lives by some kind of code. It was impressive until it was irritating.

“Anything I should know before we get there?” I ask.

“Not that I’m aware of ma’am.”

“Why are we going so slow?” I swear it feels like we’re running at a snail’s pace.

“Just a lot of cops on the road this weekend. Not taking any chances.”

I nod, accepting that was the most I was going to get out of Rick.

My heart races as we get closer. I hate the way my chest is tightening, almost caving in, leaving me struggling for air. I spot the Jeep first.

“Clive’s here?”

“I don’t know ma’am.”

I search the lot. I don’t see Dean’s truck anywhere. “Are you sure this is what Dean asked you to do? You talked to him personally?”

“Yes ma’am. He’s inside waiting to talk to you.”

Rick hops out and makes his way around to my side, opening my door like the gentleman that he is.

BOOK: Whiskey Wedding (Tasting Nashville series Book 3)
13.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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