Whiskey Wedding (Tasting Nashville series Book 3) Read Online Free Page B

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.”
    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