Page 11 of Crashing the Altar
God, he probably felt so betrayed. We never kept secrets from each other.
Well, other than the one about me being in love with him my whole life. Not that he had any room to talk, because if the rumblings around town were to be believed— Rust Canyon gossip was usually spot on—he felt the same way.
What a pair we made, putting our friendship above the chance at true love.
Jake had been one of the men I’d been with during my vet training. He was nice, and we had a good time together, so we made it a regular thing for a few months. When he asked for more than casual sex between friends, I decided to end it.
Despite my vow to move on from Tripp, it was easier said than done. No matter how hard I tried, my heart wouldn’t let him go, so it wasn’t available to give to another man.
But then Jake and I ran into each other over at the Winfield Ranch a few weeks back, when their cattle herd was due for vaccinations. I was in my feels over Tripp heading out on the rodeo circuit and not getting to see him again for months at a time, so when Jake asked me to grab a bite after we finished, I agreed.
During that dinner, it hit me that I was nearly thirty, and if I wasn’t careful, I’d blink and be turning forty, then fifty, and so on, and still be single and pining for my best friend. If I didn’t want to end up alone, I needed to be open to other relationships.
So I decided to give Jake a chance—a real one this time.
Since we already knew each other fairly well, our relationship escalated quickly—as evidenced by the proposal after only a few weeks of dating. And when he suggested a short engagement, I agreed to that as well. Because in the back of my mind, I knew if we didn’t rush through this process and I was allowed more time to think it through, there was a good possibility that I would back out.
I managed to smile through cake and toasts in my—and Jake’s—honor, but by the time our guests left, I was emotionally drained. All I wanted to do was curl up in bed and eat my body weight in ice cream while I hyped myself up to marry a man I liked but didn’t love.
Jake looped an arm around my waist when I went to grab his coat, his lips directly beside my ear. “Why don’t you come home with me tonight, and we cancelebrate in private? The new furniture got delivered yesterday, so the bedroom has more than just a mattress on the floor.”
Our sex life wasn’t the stuff of romance novels, but it was enjoyable enough. Orgasms were achieved by both parties, but it’s not like I craved him. There was never a moment in the day when I had the urge to tear his clothes off because the need to feel him inside me was so intense that it couldn’t be ignored.
Tonight, I most certainly wasn’t in the mood to “celebrate” in a physical way. Especially not when the familiar rumble of Tripp’s truck caught my ear, and I peeked through the window to see it streaking across the gravel path so fast it kicked up a cloud of dust.
He needed an explanation from me more than Jake needed to get laid.
“Today took a lot out of me. I think I’m gonna stick around here and help my mama clean up, if that’s all right?”
Disappointment flashed in Jake’s brown eyes, but he covered it quickly as he nodded in understanding. “Of course. Talk to you in the morning? We have a lot of planning to do.”
Right. Because our wedding was set to take place three weeks from today.
“Yeah, I’ll grab coffee for us and swing over once I’ve made my rounds on the ranch.”
“Or . . .” he dragged the word out slowly. “Icould bring the coffee and help with your rounds.”
How did you politely tell the man you were going to marry that you needed a fucking minute of peace to wrap your mind around the events of the past twenty-four hours before you had a panic attack?
Placing my hands on his chest, I rose on my toes and pressed my lips to his. “If you do that, I won’t be able to scope out this new bedroom set you mentioned.”
Jake hummed, a corner of his mouth hitching up. “Good point. Tomorrow at my place it is.”
He dragged me closer until our bodies were pressed flush. Then he slid one hand into my hair, angling my head to where he wanted it as he kissed me deeply. His tongue swept inside my mouth, and I played along the best I could, but my heart wasn’t in it—not that it ever really was.
I was punching my ticket straight to Hell because, while kissing my fiancé, my mind was firmly on the man in the black truck who owned that aching organ inside my chest.
We broke apart, and I pulled my cardigan tighter to my chest when the cool spring air rushed in from the open door. Standing on the front porch, I watched Jake drive away. The minute he was out of sight, I took off running in the direction Tripp had disappeared.
Even though this property was massive, I knew exactly where he’d be.
As expected, I found Tripp sitting with his legs hanging over the tailgate of his truck, parked beside the tree where our dads had hung a tire swing for us when we were kids.
This was our favorite spot on the ranch. Growing up, whenever we had a bad day, this was where we’d come. Tripp would push me on the swing, and one or both of us would talk until we ran out of words about whatever was bothering us. Then we’d brainstorm a solution together.
In those days, it had been me and Tripp against the world. And some foolish part of me believed that might always be the case.
Tripp was hunched over, elbows resting on his knees, head hung with his eyes closed when I approached the back of his pickup.
