Jay Crownover - Riveted

Published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

The News Building

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by Harper 2017

Copyright © Jennifer M Voorhees 2017

Cover design by Studio Takoma/Zoe Norvell © HarperCollinsPublishers 2017

Cover photograph © Deborah Kolb/ImageBrief

Cover image © Alamy (detail)

Jennifer M Voorhees asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008116330

Ebook Edition © February 2017 ISBN: 9780008116347

Version: 2017-10-27

Dedicated to Elma Mae Bruce.

I am a changed person because your story and my story intersected, no matter how brief that chapter may have been. Your support as a reader meant the world to me as an author, but the impact you had on me as a person … well, that is unforgettable, and I will be forever grateful that I was able to share both your triumphs and disappointments as you fought the good fight. It is true what they say … not all heroes wear capes.

We are all going to leave a legacy behind us when we go. Be it big or small, I hope that all of us take a moment, a minute, a split second to invest in making sure the one that we are building is one that we can be proud of, one that makes others smile and think fondly of us, because it’s so easy to forget the good when the bad seems to always out front and center. Leave the lives you touch better off for having had you in them.

Also FUCK YOU, cancer … you are literally the worst and we’re all pretty sick of your shit.

If you’re going through hell, keep going.

—Winston Churchill

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Epigraph

Introduction

Prologue

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

Epilogue

Author’s Note

Riveted Playlist

Acknowledgments

Keep Reading …

About the Author

Also by Jay Crownover

About the Publisher

So I’m sure it’s no surprise that I consider myself kind of a badass (on occasion at least). Not much fazes me. I’m pretty willing and able to roll with the punches and I’ve always been a “take the bull by the horns and make him your bitch” kind of gal. That being said there are things that are bigger and badder than me, things that scare the ever-living stuffing out of me and I really didn’t stop to think about how I handled the fear, or rather didn’t handle it, until I started working on this book.

If you follow me on social media at all I’m sure you know I have three dogs that I’m obsessed with. They are my best furry friends and my family. I love them unconditionally and fiercely. The boy Italian greyhound, Duce, (I know, I know, it isn’t spelled right, but even before writing books I was doing weird stuff with names) is getting older and last year he got sick … and I mean really sick. It was terrifying. It was heartbreaking and I handled it like shit. I broke down and turned into a tantrum-throwing idiot, which helped my dog and the situation zero percent. Quite frankly I didn’t know what to do or how to help him and that lack of control, no matter how much money I threw at the problem, turned me into a lunatic. I was terrified that I was going to lose him even though logically I knew he couldn’t stick around forever.

Eventually I got him to an amazing veterinarian … shout-out to Northwest Animal Hospital here in Colorado Springs and Doctor Sudduth, who took great care of him, got him diagnosed, and promised that it wasn’t his time to go yet. Duce is still old, still sickly, but he’s on meds and kicking right along. The last year was a struggle but we spent it together at home for the most part, which means I owe my readers and everyone that supports my books even more than you will ever know.

None of it changes the fact that I’m eventually going to have to say good-bye.

It still scares me. It makes me tear up even thinking about it. It’s going to be one of the hardest things I’m ever going to have to do … but writing this book … focusing on how Church handles love and loss, how we have this stoic, tough-as-nails soldier that has been through hell and back, but has things bigger and badder than he is that he can’t get out from underneath, was eye-opening. No matter what kind of armor we wear, all of it has a chink, a dent that speaks to a battle we fought and lost.

I know now that when the time comes I want to focus on the good, on the years we spent together, and all the wonderful memories my furry little guy gave to me. I don’t want any of that goodness and enduring love to be overshadowed by the pain of letting go. I need to be strong when the little guy can’t be … seriously, he’s only like seventeen pounds … so small to be poked, prodded, and medicated the way he is. He handles it like a boss though.

I can’t lie and say I’m not still scared, terrified even. Every time I leave home for an event I spend most of my free time checking in on the old man. But I like to think that I now have the where withal to be there for my four-legged bestie the way he has always been there for me.

So yeah … this entire book was kind of inspired by my sick dog … the good and the bad … Church and Dixie represent both sides of that … lol … I promise it will make sense when you read it.

Welcome to my love and loss …

Xoxo

Jay

My mom met her Prince Charming when she was a freshman in college and my dad leaned over and asked to borrow a pen so he could take notes. Rumpled, obviously hungover but flashing a smile that promised a good time and with a twinkle in his eyes, he was impossible to resist. She always told me and my sister that it happened that fast. In a split second she knew he was the one for her.

It was a sweet story. One that my parents shared with us often, both still sharing private smiles and eyes still twinkling, but neither one of us gave it much thought until my younger sister met her very own prince before she was old enough to drive. It was during a hard time for my family, hard for all of us, but especially for her. She’d always been the baby, been spoiled and treated like a princess. When the attention was yanked off of her in a really ugly way, she was lost and let the family tragedy consume her. Lost in grief and confusion she somehow managed to sign herself up for auto shop instead of an extracurricular that actually made sense for my very girlie, very feminine younger sibling. She spent five minutes in that noisy, greasy garage, but she spent years and years leaning on and loving the quiet, enigmatic auburn-haired boy she met in those five minutes. He saved her and even though she was way too young to know anything about anything, she had the same story that my mother did … she just knew he was the one for her.