Dirty Ginger by Stacey Kennedy

Prologue

The violinist played soft, classical music that drowned out the guests’ soft laughter as Amelia Carter’s six-year-old nephew, Mason, ran down the makeshift aisle. They were in the old barn that had been converted into Three Chicks Brewery, a craft brewery she owned with her two sisters. Amelia’s insides felt like they were quivering. She’d never had an out-of-body experience before, but she was certain she was experiencing it now. Watching and listening to everything and everyone around her, yet feeling like she wasn’t actually present, almost like she was a floating identity observing what should have been the happiest day of her life.

Clara, the eldest Carter sister, and Mason’s mother, sighed, causing Amelia to turn toward her. Clara’s deep blue eyes narrowed on her rambunctious son, his light brown hair bouncing atop his head. “Well, he got down there and the rings are still on the pillow. I guess that’s a win?” Her gorgeous reddish-brown hair was set in big waves that flowed down her shoulders, reaching the top of the A-line lavender bridesmaid’s dress.

Standing next to her, the youngest Carter sister, Maisie, laughed. “I thought that was going to go far worse, to be honest.” Her blond hair was pulled up in a soft updo that highlighted the sweetness of Maisie’s personality, and her dark blue eyes were still laughing when she strode by and walked down the aisle between the white chairs.

A cold wave washed over Amelia, stealing all the warmth out of her bones. The long veil covering her face felt like a much-needed curtain from the friends and family that soon would be looking her way. She woke this morning to a quivering stomach and the sensation stayed all day long. Something wasn’t right. She kept telling herself she was fine, even though her high heel kept tapping on the gravel and her fingers kept fiddling with the lace of her mermaid-style wedding dress. But the very thought of walking down the aisle to her awaiting fiancé, Luka, nearly had her retching her breakfast all over the shiny wood floors.

Once Maisie reached the first pew, Clara turned around to Amelia. “Ready?” she asked gently.

Amelia considered the pointed question and searched for what was causing this feeling, wondering if perhaps it was due to her parents not being there. She and her sisters had lost their parents in a car wreck, and her grandparents stepped in to raise them. Maybe it was because her grandparents weren’t there? The questions continued, but nothing felt quite right. Unsure how to answer, she nodded.

At whatever emotion crossed Amelia’s face, Clara’s typically hard expression softened. She grabbed Amelia’s hands, squeezing tight. “You’ve got this. Trust me, the ceremony is the hardest part. After that, we party. Okay?”

Clara would understand her feelings maybe more than anyone else here. She recently got married to professional baseball player, Sullivan Keene, her high school sweetheart and Mason’s father. God, what was wrong with her? Amelia let out a slow breath, telling those worried thoughts to quit it. She gave a firm nod. “Okay. Yes, I’m ready.”

“Yes, you sure are,” Clara said with a smile. “I’ll see you down there.” She hesitated, rare emotion filling her eyes. “You look absolutely beautiful, Amelia.”

All the coldness broke apart under Clara’s warm affection. She’d always been closer to Clara than to Maisie, even though in the past year, they’d all really bonded. But Clara had been a single mother for a long time. She had a tough skin most days, but Amelia saw none of that now. “Thank you, Clara. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Clara threw her arms around Amelia, giving her a long, tight hug that brought all the warmth back into Amelia’s bones before she faced the guests again. With a deep breath, she headed down the aisle, leaving Amelia alone.

She told her feet to move. They refused.

Time seemed to slow down, her skin flushing too hot. Her mind began racing through the reasons she was hesitating, then quickly disposing of them. But she’d made this decision, and she loved Luka. They’d met her first year in college and they’d been together ever since. She wanted the marriage and the happily-ever-after. Amounting this to stage fright, she stuffed the remainder of those quivers away and straightened her shoulders, ready to get on with her future.

Off to the side of the groomsmen, the violinist switched to a different song right as Clara reached Maisie. Both her sisters smiled at her from the end of the aisle. Amelia hung onto that, the knowledge that this day would have made so many people happy. Especially her late parents and grandparents. And all the people here loved her. Deeply.

She started down the aisle, gazing over the guests as they rose from their seats; family and friends from all walks of Amelia’s life, but her focus narrowed on one. Beckett Stone. His sandy brown hair never really had a style, and his gray eyes always screamed: pure trouble. He had been the man Amelia thought she’d marry one day. Her high school sweetheart. Also, her greatest disappointment. Beckett stood next to Maisie’s fiancé, Hayes Taylor, with Clara’s husband, Sullivan Keene, on his other side. Amelia had questioned inviting Beckett, but in the end, she wanted him there. Sure, they had a history, but within that history there had been a lot of love and a long friendship. For a split second, their gazes held, the world fading away to only her heartbeat thumping in her ears. All the unsaid things. All the lingering heartbreak from when she realized that Beckett wasn’t the one. All the pain when he’d admitted they’d drifted apart and he had no interest in following her into the big city while she went to college.

She ripped her gaze off him, setting it on Luka waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Beckett broke promises. Luka hadn’t broken a single one. But as she looked at her future husband waiting for her, she found his skin pale. A few inches taller than her, Luka fit into city life with his fancy suits, including the tux he wore now, and his styled dark hair.

When she sidled up to him, she smiled beneath her veil. He didn’t smile back. He bounced from foot to foot.

The officiant began, “Today, we’re here to celebrate—”

“Wait.”

Amelia’s blood ran ice cold at the desperation in Luka’s voice. She’d never heard that voice come from him before. He mumbled incoherent things before he said, “I can’t… I’m sorry, Amelia. I can’t do this.”

Gasps filled the space, loud chatter brushing across Amelia’s ears.

A flush of adrenaline tingled through her body as she flipped up her veil. “What?” she snapped.

Luka looked over his shoulder at his parents and his grandmother, who gazed on in horror. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice shaking. “I got wrapped up in it all. I—” He turned to Amelia. “I’m sorry. I can’t go through with this. I don’t love you anymore.”

The world began to crash around Amelia as Luka nearly fell and spun to run away, only something stopped him.

Beckett’s fist.

The punch hit Luka dead center in the nose. He soared backward, landing hard on the floor between the chairs, like all of Amelia’s hopes and dreams.

The barn chilled with the heavy stillness until Maisie’s sigh broke the shocked silence. “Now this, this I expected,” she said.