Page 17 of Crashing the Altar
Deciding this man deserved better of me, I shoved my feelings toward Tripp deep down—which wasn’t hard since I’d had decades ofpractice—and flashed him a playful smirk as I teased, “You can try them, but we both know there’s only one clear choice.”
Jake arched an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
“Lemon with raspberry filling,” I declared with confidence.
“Honey.” He clicked his tongue. “You’re going to stand here and tell me that a light, fruity cake is better than chocolate?”
“You bet your ass I am.” Ihatedchocolate cake.
Brown eyes darkening, he crowded my space until my breasts were pressed against his hard chest, and his lips brushed the shell of my ear as he spoke low enough that only I could hear. “Let me paint a little picture for you, darlin’. You take that first bite of chocolate cake with ganache drizzled overtop. You moan when the rich, decadent flavor bursts across your tastebuds because it’s downright orgasmic.” Jake’s panting breaths fanned across my skin, the ridge of his hardening cock pressed to my belly. “After that, it’s going to take all my willpower not to hitch up your skirt and finger fuck my wife under the table while our guests are none the wiser.”
Nothing. I felt nothing in response to the filthy scene he described.
Which was saying a lot since one of my kinks was getting off in public.
“How’s that chocolate cake soundin’ now?” Jake’s husky voice rasped.
“Sounds great,” I agreed because, apparently, settling was the new theme of my life. Guess it was only fitting that if I couldn’t have the groom I wanted, I didn’t get the cake I wanted either.
He pulled back enough for me to view the cocky smirk on his face. “I knew you’d come around.”
Offering him a hum and a smile, I let him hold the door open for me and my mother.
Then I made yummy noises to cover up that I was trying not to gag as we tried five different chocolate cakes, each featuring a different filling.
Tripp would never have strong-armed me into setting my preferences aside in favor of his own.
Well, you aren’t marrying Tripp, are you?
No. No, I was not.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to throw you a quiet little shower?” Aspen asked from where she stood atop an alterations-fitting platform while Trisha pinned the hem of her blush bridesmaid dress.
I waved her off. “Doesn’t make much sense. We’re not a couple of kids just starting out. We have everything we need.”
While she pursed her lips, her eyes shifted and widened when they landed on Bex seated by my side.
After having some kind of silent communication born from their lifetime of friendship, Bex placed her hand on my forearm. “What Aspen’s trying to say is that we’d like the chance to celebrate you. Even if it’s just the three of us and our moms.”
“Exactly,” Aspen confirmed. “My shower wasn’t about gifts, but it’s still a memory I cherish.”
I bit down on my tongue to keep from blurting out that our situations were different. She’d been marrying the man she loved; she wouldn’t understand my reluctance to celebrate my upcoming nuptials. Though Bex, on the other hand, might be able to offer some sympathy and insight. She might be married to her high-school sweetheart Tucker now, but it wasn’t all that long ago that she had been engaged to another man—one she knew was completely wrong for her.
Not wanting to raise suspicion, I gave in to her demands. “If you can promise it’s just the six of us, okay?”
“Does six and a half work?” She skimmed a hand over her growing belly.
Aspen was radiant, practically glowing, and I hid my longing for even a fraction of the happiness she’d found behind a fake smile. “Six and a half sounds perfect.”
“With the neckline of the dress, I think an updo will work best.”
“I agree, don’t you, dear?” My mother was fussing with my long blonde tresses, consulting with Quinn from the salon about what to do with my hair.
Eyes lifting to find their expectant gazes reflecting back at me through the mirror, I replied, “I defer to your expert opinion, Quinn. You always find a way to make the brides of Rust Canyon look beautiful on their wedding day.”
The town’s hair stylist preened under my praise. “Thank you kindly, Penny. You just sit back, relax, and leave this part to me, you hear?”
“Sounds great.”
