Chapter 24
Summer
I’m getting married.
It still doesn’t feel completely real, not even after Dolly and I go shopping for a dress. It’s not a traditional wedding dress, just a pretty white dress that feels appropriate for a Las Vegas elopement. I haven’t gained any weight yet but I buy something that’s a little loose, just in case.
“What’s wrong, hon?” Dolly asks me as we leave the mall. “You’re quiet.”
“This isn’t how I thought getting married would be,” I admit. “I had all these dreams and now…”
“Now you’re having a baby and marrying a rockstar. That was never part of the plan either, but maybe it’s just a new adventure. Something you’re going to discover is the best thing that could have happened.”
“And what if it’s a disaster?” I ask softly.
“What kind of disaster? He cheats on you and you end up divorced? That happens to fifty percent of all marriages in the U.S. so it wouldn’t matter who it was, those are the odds.
At least, this way, you’re going to have a beautiful baby with a man who’s going to send you money.
I mean, he signed a contract saying so.”
We signed the prenup last week and while I’m glad we did it, part of me is sad too. Because it means there’s an element of distrust between us that goes both ways.
“Stop all that deep, dark thinking,” she admonishes. “Seriously, lighten up, Summer. It’s not perfect, but he seems to care about you. He’s been sending flowers and gifts and has bent over backwards to make you feel good. Why do you have to overthink it?”
“Because I’m a pregnant, hormonal mess?”
“Well, okay. I’ll give you that.” She pats my arm as I put the Mustang in gear.
“I told Mom about the wedding,” I tell her. “She asked me why I was marrying Patrick when he’s such a whiny little shithead.”
Dolly throws back her head and laughs. “You know, your mom’s in there somewhere. The disease is trying to silence her, but she still finds a way to come out.”
“She does. Yesterday when I was there, I did a FaceTime call with Tate and she immediately recognized him and asked when he was coming to visit. It’s weird the bond they have, in spite of everything.”
“Your mom would know if something was off. I don’t care about the Alzheimer’s, I firmly believe she knows the difference between good and bad. One of many reasons I think he’s a good guy.”
I smile.
He is a good guy.
I know I’m being a little neurotic about everything, but these pregnancy hormones are no joke.
“I wish she could be at the wedding but it’s not a real wedding so—”
“Would you stop that?” Dolly sounds exasperated.
“For heaven’s sake, it’s as real a marriage as any other.
It’s not as fancy of a wedding, but the wedding and the marriage are two separate things.
You are legally marrying Tate Jeffries, which is the only thing that matters.
And there’s nothing fake about it. You’re not in love, I get that, but you’re in like. Come on—admit it.”
“I am in like,” I say softly. “And I’m halfway in love too. That’s why it’s so scary.”
“If it wasn’t scary, it wouldn’t be worthwhile. You hear me?”
“I hear you.”
She’s right. I know she is, but my heart is at war with my brain and it’s a pain in the ass.
“Now go home and call your man,” she says when I drop her off at the diner. “And bake me some pies!”
“Yes, ma’am!” I laugh and wave, pulling onto the street.
I can’t wait to call Tate and tell him I found a dress.
And shoes. I’ve also got my borrowed, blue, and old items. Diamond earrings borrowed from Dolly.
A blue garter to wear under my dress. And the gold bracelet my mother got from her mother on her wedding day.
The only thing missing was the something new, and now I have that too.
And I’m getting married in two weeks.
* * *
Crimson Edge has a gig in Erie, Pennsylvania tonight and I’m surprising Tate by flying in.
The flight was dirt-cheap for some reason and Dolly graciously offered to be on call in case Mom needs anything.
So now I’m on my way to the club and humming with nervous energy.
I’d hoped to meet the band at a hotel because I have half a dozen pies with me, but according to the schedule he sent me, they’re heading for Pittsburgh tonight right after the show.
Meanwhile, I tried on a pair of jeans to wear tonight and couldn’t button them without feeling like a sausage about to explode out of its skin.
It’s the end of August, and I’m twelve weeks now, so my body is starting to change.
Luckily, I have a really cute black skort with an elastic waist that still looks good on me, but the time is coming that I’m going to start to show, and like everything else lately, it makes me nervous.
Will Tate still find me attractive when I have a baby belly? If I have stretchmarks? Swollen ankles? The more I read about pregnancy the less I like what’s coming but I remind myself that it’s natural. Women have been getting pregnant and having babies for thousands of years—I’ll get through it.
Tate gave me a special All Access pass that only family and significant others get, so I put it around my neck when I get to the venue and it’s nice to breeze right past security at the front. Now I have to find the band, and I’ve missed soundcheck so they’re already backstage somewhere.
I make my way backstage, and there’s a lot of activity, the crew running around and equipment everywhere.
“Hey, Summer.” Tate and Sam’s guitar tech smiles at me. “I think Tate’s out back taking some pictures.”
“Thanks!”
“Where are you going with that pie?” he yells after me.
I laugh. “I’ll give you custody if you promise to save some for everyone else.”
“I promise,” he says solemnly, carefully taking the big shopping bag from me.
“I’m serious!” I yell after him.
This time, he’s the one who laughs.
I head toward the back and walk out to a loading dock area.
Then my step falters.
Standing at the far end of the lot, Tate and Jonny are surrounded by women. Skimpily dressed, heavily made-up women. Talking and laughing and…touching. One has her arm around Tate’s neck, another is taking selfies while making kissy faces. They all look like they’re having a great time.
It’s part of the job. I know that.
But seeing it right in front of me is hard.
Before I say or do something stupid, I whirl and hurry back in the direction I came. I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m going to do when I get there, but I have to get out of here.
“Summer! Hey! Where are you going?” I hear my name but my feet don’t stop moving until I’m outside the club again. I pull in a shaky breath and clench my fists. I have to be stronger than this. Better than this.
I knew there was a chance he was full of shit but—
“Summer. Babe.”
Tate.
That soft, caring voice.
The one that always makes me feel like he’s the nicest guy in the world.
Except he’s not.
“Babe.” He says it a little more firmly now, and I look up warily.
“What?” My annoyance is clear.
He reaches out, runs gentle fingers along my cheek.
“What are you doing here? And why did you leave like that?”
“You know why.”
“Nothing happened, nothing was going to happen. They were influencers and they wanted pictures. Nothing happened.” I can’t see anything except sincerity in his expression.
“She was hanging on you like a fucking tie!” I snap, tears filling my eyes.
Jesus, I’m getting tired of these hormones.
“I’m sorry, really. But that was the extent of it. It happens. Look at me, Summer.”
I can’t. I’m still too raw.
“Summer. Look. At. Me.”
It’s the kind of command that I can’t ignore for some reason, and I turn my head just enough.
“I was going to make this more romantic but here goes nothing.” He pulls a little box out of his pocket.
“Why do you have that here with you at a show?” I ask suspiciously.
“Because the jeweler just shipped it and we had it sent to the club since we’re not staying at a hotel tonight.”
I stare down at the box. It’s open now and the most gorgeous diamond ring I’ve ever seen is twinkling in the sunlight.
Then he drops to one knee. “Marry me, Summer?”
“You can’t… what are…” We’ve drawn a bit of a crowd, people are taking pictures or video or something, but I’m fixated on the ring. We agreed to something simple, to not waste money we may need for the baby, but the diamond blinking up at me is at least a carat.
“I’m sorry about before. It was just business. You’re my pleasure, Summer. My future. Say yes.”
This is unexpected.
I knew we were going to get married, of course, but I didn’t think he’d go through the motions of a formal proposal.
“Tate.”
And I’m crying again.
It’s going to be a long twenty-eight weeks if I find a reason to cry every day between now and when the baby comes.
But he’s waiting for an answer and there’s really only one option.
“Yes,” I whisper, holding out my hand.
He slides the ring on, gets up and pulls me in for a kiss. And I’m not talking about a peck. His lips capture mine like they belong to him, and a cheer goes up in the crowd when we finally break apart.
Using his thumb, he brushes my tears away.
“Don’t cry,” he says softly. “There was nothing back there to cry about. You have to trust me, babe. That’s not who I am. I don’t know what the future has in store for us but while we’re together, we’re together. Exclusively. You have my word.”
“Tate.” I rest my head against his chest.
I have to believe him. Believe in him.
Anything less is setting us up to fail. And as neurotic and emotional as I am these days, deep down I want this to work.
“You okay?” he whispers against my hair.
“Yes.” I take a deep breath and then lift my head so I can look into his handsome face. “You weren’t supposed to buy a diamond that big.”
He smiles. “I got a good deal on it. Angus knew a guy.”
I chuckle because Angus always seems to know a guy.
“Congratulations!” People start wishing us well, coming over to shake Tate’s hand, say hello, even take a picture. Our engagement is apparently a big deal because these are all fans who know who he is.
“I’m sorry about that,” he says when we finally break free and head back inside the club.
“There have to be boundaries, Tate. Hanging on you like that is off-limits—you have to make that clear.”
“You’re right.” He nods solemnly. “I should have said something. But I swear to you—you can ask the guys—I haven’t even looked at another woman. I can’t. I don’t want to. All I see is you.”
That warms my heart and I lift my left hand, staring at the ring.
“We’re engaged,” I say slowly. “Why does it feel so…real?”
He brings my hand to his lips and kisses the back. “Because it is.”