Page 2 of Crashing the Altar
Ugh. When was I going to give up this ridiculous obsession? My heart ached every damn day, longing for a man who would never see me as more than a friend.
“Penny.” My name was said on a sigh. His gaze was too intense, like he could see into the heart of me.
My lashes fluttered shut when his hand cupped my cheek. With my eyes closed, I could pretend this was more, even if only for a few seconds.
The vision of a future together was so clear in my mind’s eye it felt like I could reach out and touch it. We’d live on the ranch we were raised on, building our own house on the property. Tripp would take over his father’s horse-breeding empire when it was time for Jett Sullivan to retire and enjoy his golden years with his wife, Daisy. I’d work alongside Tripp, caring for the animals once I finished my training to become a livestock vet. We would have a few kids—I’d happily give him however many he wanted—and bring them up in the same country lifestyle we loved. There would be family dinners filled with laughter, evenings curled up before a roaring fire, and nights spent just the two of us, speaking with our bodies instead of words.
It was a dream so perfect I could cry.
“Penny?” This time, when Tripp called my name, there was a rising hint of alarm in his tone.
I swallowed thickly, my eyes still sealed shut. “Hmm?”
A second hand joined the first so that he was cradling my face. The thumbs brushed over my cheeks quickly. “Why are you crying?”
Oh shit. If I didn’t lock it down fast, I was going to ruin everything.
When my lashes lifted, my heart clenched at seeing the devastation written across Tripp’s features, and fresh tears blurred my vision.
Shifting off my stool, I pulled out of his grasp, watching hurt flicker in his eyes as his hands fell away.
“Just need to use the restroom.” I cursed my trembling voice. “Can you order me another shot?”
His lips thinned, expressing his displeasure with my brush-off, but he nodded.
Turning away from him, I hustled my butt down the back hallway that led to the bathrooms, but instead of pushing through the door to the one marked for women, I walked out the back entrance of the bar.
There were still traces of cool air to be found on this spring night, though those would be long gone soon with the calendar set to turn to May. My heated skin chilled instantly, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
I just needed a minute to get my head on straight, and then I could go back to celebrating.
The room might be spinning, but I was feelinggood.
I’d lost count of the number of shots I consumed after a while. I knew it was enough to make Tripp’s frown blurry enough that it no longer bothered me.
Let him be mad, disappointed, or whatever the hell he was. This was my birthday, and I refused to allow him—and my unrequited feelings for him—to keep me from enjoying myself.
The live band played the opening chords to my favorite country song, and I threw my hands up in the air, cheering with the rest of the crowd.
“Let’s dance!” I declared, hopping off my barstool. Not taking into account just how drunk I was, I missed the mark on the landing and crashed to the floor.
“Jesus, Penny,” Tripp muttered, crouching before me. “How about we get you a water and head home instead?”
I couldn’t feel my face, but I willed my brain to give him what I hoped was a scowl. “No. I wanna dance. It’s my birthday, and what’s the rule on my birthday?”
He dragged a hand over his jaw and grumbled, “The birthday girl gets what she wants.”
“That’s right.” My head bobbed, feeling way too heavy to be held up by my neck. “So, if you could kindly help me up, I’d be mighty grateful.”
Like the good country boy he was, his manners were automatic, and without another word, he offered a hand to haul me off the sticky floor—yeah, I was definitely going to be cringing over this moment in the morning.
When using only one hand resulted in my ass lifting about three inches off the ground before I gave up and sat back down, Tripp bent at the knees, extending both hands. Since I was boneless, my strapping hunk of a best friend did all the heavy lifting, grunting when I crashed into his chest, which felt more like a brick wall if you asked me.
My brain was sluggish, so I didn’t think twice about running my palms over those pecs,moaning as I did so.
An impressed sound came from the back of my throat. “God, you’re strong.”
“And you’re drunk.” His warm chuckle rolled over me like honey.
