Make Me Believe: Jilted: The Bride
Make Me Believe
Jilted: The Bride
Tarina Deaton
Tarina Deaton LLC
Copyright © 2019 by Tarina Deaton
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Also by Tarina Deaton
The Combat Hearts Series
Stitched Up Heart
Half-Broke Heart
Locked-Down Heart
Rescued Heart
Imperfect Heart
Holiday Heart (only available to newsletter subscribers)
The Jilted Duet
Make Me Believe
Believe In Me (coming Fall 2019)
Susan Stoker World Novel (coming July 2019)
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Tarina Deaton
Chapter 1
“Are you nervous?”
Rowan glanced at Michael out of the corner of her eye and whispered, “A little. Mostly I’m wondering why I let my sister pick such a long reading.”
His lips twitched. “You look beautiful, by the way. I didn’t get a chance to tell you before the minster started.”
She smiled and looked at him fully. Michael was a true gentleman—always making sure she was comfortable, that she knew he appreciated her, and that she was happy. He was perfect.
Any jitters she had were a perfectly appropriate response to getting married. Promising to love only one person for the rest of her life was a big step.
“You look really good in your tux,” she said with a wink.
The custom-tailored tuxedo fit him perfectly. Clean shaven with a fresh haircut, he looked like he’d stepped off the pages of GQ or was auditioning to be the next James Bond.
He winked back and turned to face the minister again. Rowan glanced down at her wedding bouquet, softly blew out a breath, and gave her attention to the minister as her sister, Adalynn, finally finished her reading.
The minister glanced between them. In a low voice, he asked, “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” they both said.
He raised his voice so the congregation could hear him. “Michael and Rowan, marriage is a promise between two people to love, trust, and honor each other. It takes trust to know in your hearts you only want the best for each other. It takes—”
A commotion at the back of the chapel stopped the minister from telling them what else it took.
“Sir, you can’t go in. There’s a wedding in progress!”
She recognized their wedding planner Stephanie’s voice.
“I know. I’m here to stop it.”
Rowan’s heart thumped in her chest and her fingers tingled from the flow of adrenaline suddenly coursing through her. She squeezed her eyes closed. “Please god, no,” she whispered. Maybe if she wished hard enough what she thought was about to happen wouldn’t.
The strum of a guitar and Luke Stone’s smooth, deep baritone filled the chapel.
I hate to interrupt
But do you believe in second chances?
I’m hopelessly romantic
It’s true
Our history is rough
But I think I learned some lessons
So this is my confession
To you
Rowan finally glanced to her right. Luke stood tall, proud, and unashamed in the center of the aisle, his gaze directly on her, while he sang. Several guests had their cell phones aimed at him and were either recording or streaming live. She couldn’t blame them—how often did you get what was essentially a private concert from a chart-topping country singer?
“Rowan.” Michael’s soft voice pulled her attention away from the train wreck happening in the center aisle.
She saw it in his eyes. The gentleness. The apology. The knowledge that what he did or said next was going to cause her pain, but he was going to do it anyway.
“No,” she whispered. He wouldn’t. He would leave her up here alone. He wouldn’t walk away from her…from them. Why?
Her head jerked from side to side and she took a jolting step closer. “Don’t do this to me.”
He shook his head gently. “I’m not doing it to you. I’m doing it for you.”
“Michael, please. I love you.” The bouquet slipped from her fingers and she reached for his hand.
He grasped hers and squeezed. “I know you do, but you’re not in love with me the way you are with him. I’ve always known that. I love you enough to let you find your happiness, even if it’s not with me.”
He kissed her cheek and his lips lingered next to her temple. “If you can walk away from him, walk toward me.”
She gripped his hand tightly, trying to hold him in place. With a glance at Luke, he turned around and walked away.
Chapter 2
Six Weeks Ago
A scream echoed through the building and Rowan jumped. Thankfully, she didn’t have the scaler against Mrs. Sherman’s gums. She glanced out the door of the exam room in time to see one of the dental technicians, Sierra, jumping excitedly down the down.
Rowan set her tools on the metal tray next to her and pulled the paper mask away from her face. “Would you excuse me, Mrs. Sherman?”
“Of course.” Leaning to the side, she craned her neck as if she could see down the hall. “Maybe her boyfriend finally proposed.”
Rowan smiled, swung the dental tray out of the way, and pulled off her gloves. “I think her scream would’ve been a lot shriller if that had happened.”
“Well, hurry back and tell me why she’s so excited.”
“Will do.” Leaving the exam room, she turned left and followed the sounds of excited chatter to the small break room.
Sierra was still bouncing up and down, clutching her phone, except now Lisa, the office’s dental assistant, was jumping with her.
“Y’all! What is goin’ on?” She had to raise her voice to be heard over their excitement and her southern accent slipped out a little. She worked hard not to shorten her words or drawl anymore—a habit she picked up in dental hygienist school when she got tired of people assuming that because she spoke slow meant she was slow.
“Justice got floor seats to the Luke Stone concert!” Sierra raised her arms and squealed. “Tenth row center!”
“Wow.” Rowan worked hard to put some excitement into her voice. “I thought it was a sold-out show.”
“It is, but the radio station is running a contest all month. Justice has been calling in every day trying to win tickets. And he got through today! The best part is we get backstage passes!” She high-stepped in place like a receiver who’d just scored a fifty-yard touchdown and squealed again. “I’m going to get to meet Luke freaking Stone!”
She didn’t notice Rowan’s half-hearted smile.
Luke freaking Stone indeed.
“Who names their kid Justice?”
Rowan propped the cordless phone between her cheek and shoulder, shoved the cork back in the wine bottle, and replaced it in the fridge.
“Colorado hippies. You’ve lived here long enough you should know that by now.”
“Did you get tickets?” Claudia asked.
“VIP, just like always,” she said. Rowan’s best friend from college understood more than anyone why the tickets were an issue. They’d ended up as roommates when Rowan had transferred to the University of Colorado from Tennessee State.
“Are you going to go?”
“Do I ever?” She carried her wineglass into the living room and curled up in her favorite overstuffed chair.
“There’s a first time for everything,” Claudia said.
“Not this. I can’t. I just—I can’t be happy for him and I can’t pretend to be.”
They had this conversation in some form or fashion whenever his name came up. Ever since the night she’d gotten drunk and tearfully confessed that Luke had chosen being a single, eligible country singer over being the man she’d planned on spending the rest of her life with.
“Besides, what’s the point? I’m going to show up with Michael and introduce him to my ex-boyfriend? I can just imagine how that little party would go.”
“I know, but they’re Luke Stone tickets. I know I’m supposed to hate him, but he is a really good singer and his concerts are supposed to be awesome. Maybe you could go and not go backstage.”
She could hear the hope in Claudia’s voice. “Claudia, I don’t want you to hate him. I don’t even hate him and I have plenty of reason to. If you want the tickets, I’ll give you the tickets.”
“Seriously? You’d do that?”
“Just because I don’t want to go doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go.”
“Aren’t you going to donate them again?”
“I’ve been having a hard time finding a charity to take them. Make-A-Wish surprisingly doesn’t have anyone that has asked for them this year. There is one charity that might want them to auction off, but they haven’t gotten back to me yet.”
“Well, damn. I can’t take tickets away from a charity. Maybe you should shred them or set them on fire. It could be cathartic. We’ll have a party…light a fire…drink some wine. It can be a thing.”
Rowan laughed. “I thought about it the first couple of times, but you’re right—he is a good singer and those tickets are hard to come by. Someone might as well get some use out of them.”
“Has he tried to contact you? Other than the tickets?”
“No, just the tickets. No notes. No emails. No nothing.”
“Maybe he wants you to go to the concert so he can talk to you?”
“And say what? Sorry I was an ass? What good would it do?”
“Don’t you wonder what he would say?” Claudia asked.
“No.” Lie. “Yes, but what’s the point? I love Michael. We’re getting married in six weeks. Nothing good will come from me reaching out to my ex-boyfriend.”
“You’re not even a little bit curious?” Claudia asked.
Rowan sipped her wine, then watched the light amber liquid swirl in the glass. “I am, but I’m afraid of what I’d lose if I went and actually spoke to him. He’s my kryptonite and there’s a small part of me that will always wonder what if. But if I give in to that small part, it would destroy everything I’ve built with Michael over the last year and a half. I may never love him the way I loved Luke, but that’s probably to be expected. I loved Luke the way a girl loves a boy. Michael is kind and wonderful and we love each other the way a man and a woman love each other. I’m not going to jeopardize that to satisfy a little curiosity.”
“Rowan, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was still so hard for you. I never would have pushed if I’d known.”
“It’s not that it’s hard—it’s more like keeping my sweet tooth in check. I’d like nothing more than a bite of double chocolate ganache cake, but I know I won’t be satisfied with one bite and I’ll eat the whole cake and then I’ll have nothing to show for it except a sugar high, a belly full of regret, and ten extra pounds. Best to not even be tempted.”
Claudia laughed at her analogy. “Alright. No more chocolate cake.”
“Double chocolate ganache cake,” Rowan said. “You know what, you should go. Take Maria. Isn’t her birthday coming up soon?”
“She would die. She loves him. Well, she loves his singing. Although if she were straight, she’d probably love him, too.”
“Her and fifty million other women,” Rowan said. “You can have the tickets on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
She smiled. She could picture Claudia’s look of suspicion. “You have to go dress shopping with me this weekend.”
“Please. Like that’s a condition. When and where?”
“You didn’t let me finish. Adalynn and my mom are coming.”
“They’re flying out from Tennessee to go dress shopping?” Claudia’s voice rose to the point of being shrill.
“Yup. Mom convinced Dad to buy them tickets. In her own words, ‘How often am I going to get to help my baby pick out a wedding dress?’ ”
“Isn’t Adalynn on her second marriage?”
“Mom has a selective memory. Plus, Adalynn didn’t wear a wedding dress the second time, what with the justice of the peace ceremony and all.”
“I’m not really sure I’m getting the better end of this deal,” Claudia said.
“True, but I need you on my side. Otherwise my mom and sister are going to have me in some lacy, ruffled monstrosity. With bows and a hoop skirt.”
Claudia grumbled low. “They’d better be really good tickets.”
“Front row, center.”
Chapter 3
Luke closed his eyes and rested his head back on the couch. He had about thirty minutes before sound check and needed the time to decompress before he had to put on his stage face. The tail end of his first headlining tour was dragging on. He loved it, but he was tired of living out of a bus. Tired of always being on.
His fingers moved randomly over the frets as he strummed. This was when he did his best song writing. No stress to pump out chart-topping songs. Just him, his guitar, and some peace and quiet.
“Do you believe in second chances?”
More and more lately he’d been thinking about a do-over. Wondering what his life would be like if he’d kept going straight instead of taking a hard right. He might be playing professional baseball. Maybe still playing in dive-bars and honky-tonks on the weekends with his college buddies, but at least he’d still be having fun.
When did it stop being fun? Almost every single one of his dreams had come true—more than he’d ever dared hope for—and all he wanted to do was be able to walk into the Piggly Wiggly back home without getting mobbed and the police responding for crowd control.
A melody for a song began to form in his mind. He stopped playing and grabbed his phone, opening the recording app and propping it on the pillow next to him. He hummed a few bars while he played, then the words came.
I let us both down a time or two.
I’d give up everything for you.
What you need to understand
Is I should be your man.
Let’s give us a chance again.
Hmmm hmm hmmm hm hm hm…
“I like it. Girls go crazy for a good apology song.”
Luke stopped mid-strum and rested his palm over the strings.
Brett, his manager, opened the sma
ll fridge in the narrow aisle of the tour bus and grabbed an energy drink. He popped open the can and chugged what must have been most of it before releasing a huge belch.
Luke swiped a hand over his face. He hadn’t heard Brett come onto the bus. Even when he was alone, he was never really alone. Constantly surrounded by people, yet he still didn’t have anyone he trusted one-hundred-percent. Not even his long-time manager.
“The label wants you back in the studio as soon as we wrap up in Denver. They want to get the next album out within six months.”
“Jesus, Brett. The last album came out six months ago. We haven’t even released all the singles yet.”
Brett sat on the sofa across from him and propped his booted feet on the table. “Right. They want to keep the momentum going and have the next album ready to go as soon as we drop the last single. The only thing that keeps you on top is more music.”
At the moment, he didn’t care about being on top. “I need a break. Tell them I need some time off.”
Brett stared at him shrewdly and Luke recognized the hungry gleam in his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, that’ll work. Your contract is up for renegotiation in a few months anyway. That way I can hold out for more money for you.”
“I don’t need more money. That’s not the issue. I need a break.”
“You absolutely need more money. You’re coming off your first, sold-out, headlining tour. You’ve got two songs on the top twenty country music charts and an album that’s been riding the top one hundred for five and a half months. I’m just looking out for your best interests.”