Page 58 of Crashing the Altar
Almost as if they knew we were coming—who was I kidding? There were security cameras on the property, so of course, they knew we were coming—both Jett and Daisy Sullivan were waiting inside thekitchen.
Daisy let out an excited squeal, jumping up from her seat at the table, and pulled me into a warm hug. Her embrace brought comfort; all of Tripp’s warmth came from this woman holding me close.
When we broke apart, she gripped my shoulders, forcing me back until we were at arm’s length. “Penny Sullivan.” Her smile grew so wide that the white of her teeth was nearly blinding. “Lord, if that doesn’t have a nice ring to it.” Her gaze softened even further when it shifted to the man standing behind me, her son. “It’s good to have you both home.”
Tripp stepped forward to place a kiss on his mother’s cheek. “Hi, Mama.”
Daisy let go of me, which allowed Tripp to place a possessive hand around my waist. She tracked the move and let out a wistful sigh.
“Jett?” she called out over her shoulder. “You going to come say hello to your son and his wife?”
The grunt that came in response sent a wave of trepidation down my spine. And that was before Tripp’s mother stepped aside to reveal her husband.
Jett Sullivan stood across the room, leaning against the kitchen sink with his arms crossed and blue eyes narrowed, looking less than enthusiastic over our homecoming.
I ducked my head in greeting. “Jett.”
He blew out a heavy breath. “Penny.” Then he addressed his son. “Who’d you leave in charge?”
“Ricky’s got it handled.” Tripp’s voice was tight, the tension between the two men growing by the minute.
Tilting her face skyward, Daisy shook her head in exasperation. “Our son comes homemarried, and you want to talk business?”
“His marital status doesn’t change the fact that this ranch is a living, breathing thing that supports no less than a dozen families. Ours included,” Jett shot back.
“Right.” She gave an exaggerated nod, lips pursed. “Because, God forbid, if we take ten minutes to congratulate our son and his bride, the whole operation might come crumbling down.”
Jett’s boots landed heavily on the hardwood floor as he stalked to the table and dropped onto a chair. “Congratulations,” he bit out before turning to his wife. “Happy now, Daze?”
“Don’t pay him any mind,” Daisy said to me. “He’s been a ball of stress these past few weeks waiting for Aspen to deliver. Can’t say I blame him after what we went through when Tripp was born.”
My head swung around to my husband, expecting some kind of explanation, but he simply shrugged.
Huh.
Wonder what the story is there.
“Oh!” The sudden exclamation drew my attention back to Tripp’s mom. “Have you been to see the baby?”
“We just came from there, actually,” I replied. “She’s precious.”
Clasping both hands, she brought them to her chest. “Isn’t she? I swear she’s an angel sent from heaven. I’d almost forgotten how fast you fall in love with a tiny person you’ve just met.” She paused, eyeing us. “Speaking of love . . . Why don’t you two sit down? I need to hear all about this wedding we missed.”
Daisy might not be country-born and raised like the rest of us, but she’d picked up a few things over the past thirty-five years spent in Oklahoma. Like the art of coating the guilt trip in sugar to make it sound sweeter.
Tripp tugged on the back of his neck. “About that. It just kinda happened.”
“Yeah, I remember just fallin’ into marriage too.” Every gruff word dripped with sarcasm as Jett chimed in.
“Jett,” Daisy hissed, whirling around. “Will you quit it?”
The body pressed to my side went rigid. “You know what? I think we’re gonna go.”
Chair legs scraped harshly against the floor. “Just as well. I need to get back to work.” With that, we were treated to the sight of Jett’s back as he walked out of the kitchen.
The front door slammed so hard I swear it shook the whole house.
“Fucking typical,” Tripp muttered.
