Say You'll Never Love Me Read online

  Also By Ann Everett

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Epilogue

  About Ann

  An Invitation to My Readers

  TELL ME A SECRET

  TWO WRONGS MAKE A RIGHT

  LAID OUT AND CANDLE LIT

  YOU’RE BUSTING MY NUPTIALS

  TIED WITH A BOW AND NO PLACE TO GO

  Also By Ann Everett

  Tizzy/Ridge Trilogy

  Laid Out and Candle Lit

  You’re Busting My Nuptials

  Tied With a Bow and No Place to Go

  Companion Books to

  Say You’ll Never Love Me

  Tell Me a Secret

  Two Wrongs Make a Right

  Non-fiction

  Strong Verbs Strong Voice

  A quick reference list to improve

  your writing and impress readers

  Body Language

  A quick reference for character

  action and description

  Cookbook

  Sweet Thangs

  Southern Sweets from Two Sassy Sisters

  Based on Sweet Thangs Bakery from the

  Tizzy/Ridge Trilogy

  Copyright 2016

  Ann Everett.

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author‘s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without the written permission from the copyright owner except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Cover Design: http:www.pinkinkdesigns.com

  Stock Photospurchased by Ann Everett fromhttp://www.dollarphotoclub.com

  Photographer: jfk_image

  http://www.istock.com

  Photographer: Izabela Habur

  Formatting: http://www.pinkinkdesigns.com

  ISBN-13: 978–1523703593

  ISBN-10: 1523703598

  BIG Thanks to critique partners:

  Emily Biasini

  Noelle Hood

  Caryl McAdoo

  Ron McAdoo

  Andy Skrzynski

  All great authors in their own right. Y’all rock, and I don’t know what I’d do without you!

  Heartfelt thanks to my FABULOUS Beta readers:

  Rebecca Ball

  Nicole Cross

  Jaclyn Parks

  Colby Ray

  Y’all helped find all those missed edits, slow and awkward sentences, and a whole bunch of other stuff!! I’m forever grateful.

  Thanks also to Tarot reader:

  genuineguidance

  Any mistakes in the readings are from Ann’s artistic interpretations.

  This is the danger of loving: No matter

  how powerful you are,

  no matter how many kingdoms you rule,

  you cannot stop those you love from dying.

  ~~Kate DiCamillo

  TWO WEEKS EARLIER, RAYNIE stood in the same spot and swore off bad boys. Absolutely. For sure. Maybe. She squinted behind her Ray Bans and watched her niece pull petals from a daisy and drop them on top of the graves like a flower girl at a wedding. Motherhood had not been on Raynie’s wish list. But dying had not been on her sister’s either.

  Raynie should have tried harder. Called more. But she hadn’t, and now it was too late. A year ago was the last time she’d seen Celeste. So when the lawyer read the will and request, Raynie sat dumbfounded. She understood why her sister had made such arrangements. A precaution. She never expected to need them. The odds of losing both parents together were slim, but the seismic shift the tragedy had caused in Raynie’s world was bigger than The San Andreas fault line.

  “Are you ready to go?” She tried not to sound impatient, but a cemetery didn’t rank in the top one hundred places she wanted to be. Should a six-year-old cry more? Even at the funeral, she hadn’t shed a tear. But at night, bad dreams plagued the little girl.

  “This is Mama’s favorite kind. Sashay daisies.”

  The reference brought a smile and Raynie noted how Silbie referred to Celeste in the present tense. “They’re called Shasta.”

  “Oh yeah. They look like a fried egg. We have some in the backyard. This summer we can pick’em. Want to?”

  “Sure.”

  Silbie knelt and ran her fingers across the fresh sod. “I miss Mama and Daddy.”

  Tears rimmed Raynie’s eyes, and she bent to offer comfort. “I do, too.” She needed to say more, but what? No clue how to deal with grief in a person so young. Heck, she hadn’t figured out how to deal with her own.

  She wrapped her arm around the little one and hugged her close. Other than her dad’s slender nose, Silbie was the spitting image of her mom and Raynie. Same green eyes, honey-blonde hair, mischievous smile. The resemblance was so strong, Raynie could easily pass as Silbie’s mom, but she wasn’t. And the worst part? She didn’t know how to be. She’d killed her quota of goldfish and hamsters. Why had Celeste thought Raynie would be capable of raising a child? Her sister had probably planned the kid’s future by the time she’d brought her home from the hospital, and it didn’t include Tarot cards or men with piercings, tattoos, and motorcycles who glittered Raynie’s life.

  Silbie buried her head in her aunt’s bosom. “Mama and Daddy aren’t really down there, are they?”

  A knot formed in Raynie’s throat. The questions kept getting harder, and for a fleeting moment, anger pushed grief aside while she blamed Celeste for dying, which was ridiculous, but she couldn’t stop herself. Had her older sister considered the ramifications of her scatterbrained sibling taking charge? Who was she kidding? The roster to choose from offered slim pickings. “No. It’s just a beautiful place to come and think about them.”

  Oak trees rustled above her, carrying the fragrance of carnations from a fresh burial nearby. She took the little girl by the hand and led her away from the cemetery. By the time they reached the car, Silbie had already moved onto another subject. “Christian sent me a note at school today.”

  “Who is he?”

  “He sits two seats behind me and sometimes teacher puts his name on the board because he doesn’t do his work.”

  “Oh. What did it say?”

  “Do you like me? There was a place to mark for yes or no.”

  “Which did you choose?”

  “I didn’t answer him yet. What should I check?”

  Raynie reached for the door handle. “You want to stop for ice cream before we head home?” Treats were good. No problem with them. And the domestic stuff was a breeze, except cooking. Another weak p
oint. It was the discipline, homework, and comforting duties where she fell short. Now add boys to the list? At six? Damn.

  “Mama says I shouldn’t eat a lot of sugar. I’ll get hyper.”

  She crawled in and Raynie clicked her safety strap in place. “So you don’t want to go?”

  “I guess one scoop might not hurt too much. What about Christian?”

  No avoiding the subject, she stooped to Silbie’s eye level. “Do you like him?”

  “Mama says I’m supposed to like everybody, but I think he wants me to be his girlfriend, and Daddy says I’m too young for a boyfriend.”

  Listen kid, Christian sounds like bad-boy-bad-news. First, he’ll have you checking a box, then by junior high, he’ll want to check yours. She shook the notion away. “Boys who get their names on the board aren’t good boyfriend material.” She stood and walked to the other side of the car and climbed in. “Now, what’s your favorite flavor?”

  “Chocolate.”

  An hour later, Raynie swung her sister’s Lexus into the drive of the cozy cottage Celeste and Evan had built ten years ago. This house, in the right neighborhood, sold for close to a half-million dollars in Austin, but in Lubbock, it appraised at a fraction of that. Painted the creamy color of wild daffodil petals and trimmed in an odd shade of brown, it was the only home her niece had ever known. The thought of selling it caused Raynie’s chest to tighten. It was horrible to lose your parents, but for an aunt, a virtual stranger, to haul you off to another city six hours away? That would be traumatic even for a teenager. And Silbie was a first grader.

  Next door neighbor, Mr. Remmus, waved from his front porch, and Raynie glanced at her watch. Soon, he’d be over for his daily visit. Funny how the old codger had taken up with her. According to Silbie, until Raynie’s arrival he rarely visited. She returned the greeting.

  “I’m sorry. What did you say, sweetie?”

  “Will I ever see them again?”

  No matter what Raynie said, it wouldn’t be enough. This was the reason Celeste had made a grave error in judgement, leaving an impressionable six-year-old with a thousand questions to a guardian with no answers.

  She drew a shallow breath because her lungs had closed off. Then she released her seat belt and turned to face the back. “Your mom and dad are always with you. They’ll be there when you play in the backyard. When you say your prayers at night. Every minute. Watching you. Missing you.”

  “Are they here now?”

  “I’m sure they are.”

  “Where?”

  Damn. “Oh, I don’t know. Could be sitting on the steps.”

  Silbie unsnapped and leaned forward, narrowing her eyes into slits. “I can’t see them.”

  “That’s because they’re angels.”

  “Then how do we know they’re here?”

  With every response, Raynie dug the hole deeper, and she wasn’t sure she’d get out. A few cheesy poetic responses might satisfy this sprout of a kid now, but she wouldn’t be this age forever. Then what?

  “They’re like Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. We can’t see them, but we know they’re here.” A lame answer, but one she hoped satisfied Silbie. Ready to end the Q&A, she didn’t give her time to say anything else. “Grab your backpack and let’s go in. You want a corn dog for dinner? I’ll do French fries. Lots of ketchup. Doesn’t that sound yummy? I bought fresh blueberries and strawberries today, so I can make you a fruit cup.”

  Inside the house, the phone rang. Raynie turned the key in the lock, and Silbie rushed to answer it. “Hello. Hi, Grammy.”

  Evan’s mother called several times a week, and that was a good thing. Raynie wanted Silbie to have a relationship with what family she had left. But Grammy Collins didn’t approve of the guardian choice. She’d made that clear.

  When she finished the call, Silbie skipped into the kitchen. “May I go outside?”

  “Do you have homework?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, you can play until I get dinner fixed. Where was Grammy calling from?”

  “Rome. That’s in Italy. I can show you in the geography book she gave me.”

  “We’ll do it tonight at bedtime. All right?”

  She nodded and headed to the backyard as someone knocked on the front door. When Raynie opened it, Mr. Remmus stood in the opening, mug in hand.

  “Can I borrow a cup of bourbon?”

  The old man’s gravelly voice sounded grumpy, but he was anything but that. His gentle nature caused Raynie to like him the minute she’d met him. The day of the funeral, he’d shown up with a basket of fruit and a philodendron, and the only neighbor who had continued to visit.

  “Everything going okay?” He reminded her of George Burns without the thick glasses, right down to the cigar peeking from his shirt pocket.

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  She took the bottle from the cabinet and filled his cup. “Silbie asks a lot of questions I’m not sure how to answer. You know. Where Celeste and Evan are now? Will she ever see them again?”

  He took a big gulp. “Ah, that’s good stuff.”

  She smiled. He had the same reaction every time.

  He set the drink on the counter and planted himself on a stool. “She seems happy, so I think you’re doing fine.”

  “She doesn’t ask to go to the cemetery every day, so that’s better.”

  “You hang in there kiddo. Motherhood ain’t easy. My Charlotte would have been a great mother, but it wasn’t in the cards for us.”

  “You miss her, don’t you?”

  “Every minute.”

  The sadness in his eyes broke Raynie’s heart, so she changed the subject. “We’re having corn dogs for dinner. You want to join us?”

  “Nah. Weenies give me gas. I better go.” He held out his cup. “Hit me one more time for the road.”

  She half-filled the mug and followed him to the door. “See you tomorrow?”

  “Count on it.”

  Later that night, after getting Silbie to bed, Raynie soaked in the tub and contemplated her situation. This wasn’t a temporary assignment. She had twelve more years, and the thought exhausted her. Thanks to the insurance, and once the house sold, finances wouldn’t be a problem. That’s the one area where Celeste made the right choice. Raynie was good at handling money.

  Mounds of jasmine scented bubbles puffed around Raynie, and childhood memories flooded over her. All the times Evan paid her a dollar to leave Celeste alone with him. How she’d taught Raynie to drive, apply makeup and a hundred other shared moments. Overcome with sadness, she sobbed into the washcloth.

  She’d read crying, like laughing, was healthy, and hoped that was true because she’d been doing plenty of it. She pulled herself together, climbed out of the water and toweled off, then slipped into her nightshirt.

  Back in the living room, she stared out the window. The bells at St. Paul’s, a few blocks away, chimed eleven times. When she’d first moved in, they had driven her nuts, but now the melody soothed her. She wasn’t Episcopalian. She wasn’t much of anything concerning religion. If they provided counseling or a support group for new mothers, she should join. The Lord knew she needed it.

  Years ago, when she established her online tarot site, she never thought how beneficial it would be. She could work from anywhere while her employees kept the Austin storefront open. For Silbie’s sake, until school ended, Raynie planned to stay in Celeste’s house. The trauma of losing her parents was enough for the little girl. Besides, summer vacation would be a better time for transition.

  The wind picked up, and a tumbleweed rolled across the lawn, and reminded Raynie how much she hated this city. Nothing but flat land and cotton fields. Earlier in the week, she’d suffered through her first dust storm. Swore her hair gained two pounds and the skin on her face felt sanded to the bone. Not to mention the layer of dirt on her teeth. How residents tolerated this place was beyond her.

  Then, like every night since Raynie’s arri
val, Silbie’s screams shattered the silence. “Mama! Mama!”

  Raynie ran down the hallway, wishing she had hitched a ride on that tumbleweed and rolled away from the hardest challenge she’d ever faced.

  Hell has three gates: lust, anger, and greed.

  ~~Bhagavad Gita

  JARED KNEW IT WAS wrong to lust after his brother’s wife. Yet here he was staring out the window watching Maggie strap the twins into their stroller. The warm breeze caught tendrils of her long red hair and twirled them in the wind. She gathered the strands into a ponytail, pulled a rubber band from her wrist, and twisted it around the wild curls.

  Most of the time he pushed the misplaced affection out of his mind, but sometimes he couldn’t fight it. The memory of the kiss they’d shared stabbed his heart like a hot spike. He knew it meant nothing to her. Circumstances caused a weak moment. After Jace forced her to leave because of his paralysis, she’d felt rejected. Jared had only intended to offer comfort, but then his lips were on hers, and instead of pushing him away, she’d clutched tighter. Thank God, he came to his senses before making a bigger fool of himself.

  She’d been gracious, claiming some of the fault, and because she’d forgiven him, their friendship remained intact. Emma and Ava giggled with pure joy when their dad did a wheelie. Jared laughed, too. He’d never thought Jace would be any good at fatherhood. But he was.

  From across the kitchen, Mom came to join him. She wiped her hands on a dish towel and slung it over her shoulder. “What are you laughing about?”

  “Jace, Maggie and the girls. Looks like they’re going for a stroll.”

  “You should go, too. Your dad’s in the shower, and won’t be ready for a while.”

  “Nah, it’s their family time.”

  “I’m sure they wouldn’t consider it an intrusion. Did you ever think Jace could be this happy again?”

  At first, Jared believed his idiot brother might not come to his senses. He should have known better. Maggie wasn’t the type to give up until she got what she wanted. While they were apart, she’d sent Jace a letter every day, and he’d clung to them as if they were his lifeline. When they stopped, he realized he couldn’t live without her. “I’m a little envious.”