Page 40 of Crashing the Altar
Tripp turned to address Ricky. “How’d the rides go last night?”
Ricky dipped his chin. “As expected. Only one rider managed to stay atop a Sullivan horse until the buzzer sounded. He’s sitting at the top of the leaderboard.”
“Must’ve been impressive.”
“It was. Wish you’d been here to see it.”
Tripp’s voice grew husky, and his fingers flexed. “I don’t. The ride I witnessed was better.”
A small shriek passed my lips, and I turned to bury my face in Tripp’s chest, my face flaming at the sound of Ricky’s booming laughter.
“No point in arguin’ with that.” Ricky leaned his arm on the fence post beside him. “You joining us for the season, then, Penny?”
I lifted my head to find Tripp smiling down at me. “That’s the plan.”
“A rodeo honeymoon. Seems fitting for a stock contractor and his wife.”
Tripp’s eyes searched mine. “That okay with you, Lucky?”
“More than okay,” I assured him. “Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be.”
I was a country girl to my core. Being surrounded by animals and cowboys while being treated to a nightly show was just fine with me.
Bright lights flooded the arena where the bull riding competition was in full swing while we watched on from the staging area. Tripp was tall enough to fold his arms atop the gate, but I was forced to stand on the second rung to be treated to an unobstructed view of the madness. While I could find beauty in the movements of both the bull and its rider, it was sheer insanity to even attempt to hop on the back of a two-thousand-pound bucking beast.
The buzzer sounded on a successful ride, and the cowboy landed on his feet in the dirt with a whoop before he took off running.
“Sully, who’s your friend?” a voice called out from our right.
Tripp and I both turned our heads in that direction to find a handsome young cowboy in his early twenties on approach. He was dressed in a flannel and jeans with chaps fastened overtop, and the number pinned to his vest indicated he was set to compete tonight. There was a charming grin plastered on his face and interest lit up in his eyes when his gaze swept me from head to toe.
Tripp tracked the move and let out a displeased grunt.
Ooh, I liked him jealous.
Hopping down from my perch, I extended a hand and introduced myself, “Penny.”
“Hello, Penny. I’m Tate.”
His grin grew wider, and when he pulled my hand toward his mouth to drop a kiss onto it, I was yanked backward into a solid wall of muscle, forcing the air from my lungs with an “oof.”
A surprised laugh fell from Tate’s lips as he shifted his eyes to the man at my back who had a possessive arm locked around my waist. “More than a friend. Got it.”
“Much more.” Tripp’s voice had grown deeper, and I had to suppress a moan. “Penny,” he said right beside my ear. “Tell Tate your last name.”
My stomach flipped at his commanding tone.
“Sullivan,” I breathed out. The dull throbbing between my thighs intensified, and I shifted on my feet, feeling him harden against my ass.
“Sister?” Tate hedged slowly.
“Try again.” Tripp sounded so damn smug.
“Cousin?”
“Getting colder.” Stubble abraded the side of my neck as he shook his head.
“Don’t tell me you’re his wife, darlin’, because there’s no way Sully suckered someone as beautiful as you into marrying him.”
