Crashing the Altar (Rust Canyon #3)

Prologue

Penny

“Make a wish, Lucky.”

The rich timbre of my best friend Tripp’s voice settled right between my legs. That, combined with the childhood nickname he’d given me when he learned that finding a penny on the ground meant good luck, had heat rising to my cheeks.

Today was my twenty-first birthday. And as I pursed my lips to blow out the candle on the cupcake set on the bar top of the Watering Hole, the only bar in our small town, I made the same wish I had since I was eleven—probably even earlier than that, but that’s as far back as I could remember consciously making it.

I wish Tripp Sullivan was mine forever.

The flame flickered before my exhale extinguished it, causing a stream of smoke to curl into the air. I watched the trail of it disappear and, along with it, any hope that Tripp could ever be mine.

No amount of wishing would ever be enough to break me out of the friend zone. And not just your typical friend zone but the best friend zone.

Tripp and I grew up together, born only three months apart and living on the same ranch—his family’s ranch. Our friendship was natural. We spent nearly every day together, going from a shared playpen to gripping each other’s hands tight enough to cut off circulation on our first day of kindergarten.

As we got older, our bond only strengthened. Wherever Tripp was, that’s where I wanted to be, and vice versa. We were pulled together like magnets; it was impossible to keep us apart—much to our mothers’ dismay when they’d find one of us missing from our beds come morning, only to learn we’d snuck out and crawled into that of the other one.

By the time we became preteens, I was hopelessly in love with the boy next door. And unfortunately for me, the only person who couldn’t see that was him.

I’d convinced myself it was better that way. If he never knew, our friendship wouldn’t change. A one-sided crush wasn’t worth losing my best friend. The same best friend who currently sat on the barstool next to mine, flashing me the most gorgeous smile as he passed me a shot, which I downed quickly, grimacing against the burn.

Fuck, he was handsome. A carbon copy of his father with his pitch-black hair, blue eyes, and chiseled jaw covered in stubble, he could have any woman in this bar. Yet, his eyes never strayed, his focus firmly on me.

Come to think of it, I’d never seen him look at another woman. That had to mean something, right?

I shook that thought off almost as soon as it entered my mind. He probably just saved picking up women for when he was on the road during rodeo season.

Our hometown of Rust Canyon, Oklahoma, was small. Tiny, really. With only six hundred residents, everyone knew everyone, so if Tripp dared to date in town, our community would be planning the wedding by the third date. It just made sense that if he wasn’t ready to settle down, he would keep that part of his life out of sight .

Resting an elbow on the bar, he leaned in close. The clove scent of his cologne infiltrated my senses, and I had to bite back a moan as his mouth came to rest a breath away from my ear.

“What did you wish for?” His voice took on a husky quality when he spoke those words.

Goddamn, my toes curled inside my boots. Didn’t he have any idea that this was the sweetest torture? Being so close to him, having him in my life, but not in the way I truly wanted?

Breathless, I replied, “Can’t tell you, or it won’t come true.”

His massive palm came to rest on my thigh. Even though my heart rate kicked up, my head warned not to get too excited. We touched each other all the time; it wasn’t sexual. Or at least, he didn’t see it that way. I was ashamed to admit that, more than once, I’d touched myself to the memory of my best friend’s hands on me in a totally platonic way.

“Come on, Penny. If you tell me, maybe I can help make it come true.” He squeezed my thigh, his pinky shifting closer toward my now throbbing core.

I sucked in a sharp breath, pulling back enough to search Tripp’s eyes, which had darkened to the color of the ocean. My head was swimming, but I could swear the buttons of his flannel were hanging on for dear life as his chest strained against them with its rapid rise and fall.

Could he feel this pull between us, too? The one I couldn’t ignore, couldn’t shake for the life of me?

Tripp swallowed, and I tracked the bob of his Adam’s apple along the column of his throat. “Tell me.” The command was issued softly.

Even if I wasn’t too superstitious for my own good, I was a coward, too afraid to lose everything by confessing the truth. So, I elected to skirt the line, offering him a slightly modified version.

“I don’t want to end up alone. ”

Almost as soon as the words left my mouth, I wished I could take them back. Especially when Tripp reeled back, eyes widening.

“What? How could you—I mean—“ He shook his head slightly, blowing out a breath. “Penny, you’re this amazing, pretty, albeit incredibly impulsive”—that got a shaky laugh out of me because he wasn’t wrong on that count—”girl. Someday, you’re going to make some lucky man the happiest son of a bitch alive when you agree to become his wife.”

The only man I want that to be is you.

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 feeling good .

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.

God, what I wouldn’t give to have him rolling over me. Hell, I’d take him below me, behind me—any way, really.

Swaying on my feet, I looped both arms around his neck. “That’s better,” I sighed.

Tripp kept both hands firmly planted on my waist. “How ’bout we dance right here?”

I pressed my cheek to his chest. “Mmm. I could be okay with that.”

Rocking slowly, even though the tempo of the song was upbeat, I clung to the man who didn’t know I loved him with my whole heart. Emboldened in my intoxicated state, I snaked one hand down his back, tucking it into his back pocket. It was a claiming move, and through fuzzy hearing, it almost sounded like his heart began beating faster beneath my ear.

“We should probably get you home.” Tripp’s lips moved against the top of my head.

“Party pooper,” I groused.

“I gave you your dance, birthday girl. As it is, your father’s gonna kill me for letting you drink too much. He trusted me to take care of you tonight.”

Lifting my gaze to peek at him, I batted my eyelashes, a move that was proven to get me whatever I wanted. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Tripp’s brows drew down. “In the bunkhouse?”

“Nuh-uh.” I shook my head slowly. “In your bedroom in the big house.” That was the main farmhouse on Sullivan Ranch, where his parents lived.

His sigh was heavy. “Penny . . .”

“Please? It’s my last birthday request. Promise.”

Groaning, he nodded. “All right.”

I squealed, hopping in place .

We hadn’t had a sleepover since he’d moved into the bunkhouse after graduation. As the owner’s son, he didn’t want anyone to think he was getting preferential treatment, so he elected to live in the communal housing with the rest of the ranch hands.

My booze-soaked brain was already conjuring up ways I could use this adult version of our childhood ritual to my advantage. Maybe instead of falling asleep face-to-face, we could spoon. And then perhaps I just so happened to accidentally shift my ass backward to test the reaction when it made contact with his crotch.

With my luck, instead of getting hard, he’d shove me away, being the consummate “good guy” like always, not wanting to take advantage of me in my drunken state.

The last thing I wanted was for my best friend to respect me tonight. No, I wanted him to rip my clothes off and ravage me like this was our last day on Earth.

“Come on, Lucky.” Tripp wrapped an arm around my waist, guiding me toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”

When we reached his pickup, he opened the passenger side door and lifted me onto the seat, taking the time to buckle me in. He always took such good care of me. There was no doubt he would make the most incredibly attentive husband someday. And God help me, I already hated his future wife.

“Hey.” Tripp’s thumb smoothed between my brows. “Where did my happy drunk go?”

Dammit, I really needed to get better at keeping my emotions in check. Because if I wasn’t careful, the liquor might eventually loosen my tongue enough to spill my deepest secret that would most certainly change our friendship forever .

But what if there’s a chance confessing your true feelings means you get everything you ever wanted?

Squeezing my eyes shut so I didn’t start fucking crying in front of him again, I dropped my head back against the seat, muttering, “I’m fine.”

Tripp’s resulting hum made it clear I wasn’t fooling him, but he let it drop, shutting the door before rounding the hood to hop behind the wheel.

It was only a ten-minute drive from Main Street to Sullivan Ranch, but about halfway there, I lost the ability to keep my thoughts inside my head.

“It’s you.” My voice was whisper-quiet in the dark cabin.

“What’s that?” Tripp spared me a glance before returning his eyes to the road.

Thanks to the liquid courage coursing through my veins, I clarified, “You’re the lucky man.”

A sigh sounded from the man by my side. “Penny, you’re not making any sense. You’re Lucky, not me.”

My frustration boiled over, and I slapped my thighs. “You’re not getting it!”

“Okay.” He said the word calmly, slowly. “Why don’t you explain it to me, then?”

Huffing, I scrunched my face up, working hard to concentrate on the exact words needed to convey my meaning.

Calloused fingers pried my hands apart where I was wringing them on my lap. He took one in his, clasping them together over the center console. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

That statement had so much conviction; he truly believed there was nothing I could say that would change how he felt about me.

Was I really going to blow that perception out of the water? Throw a grenade into our friendship and hope for the best ?

Turning my head, I stared at his profile as he drove. Tripp was many things—steadfast, even-tempered, the kindest man I’d ever met. Even if this went sideways, I knew he would never walk out of my life.

Not that he had much choice when we lived on the same property, but still.

If this was the only chance I got, I might as well take it. It was better than living the rest of my life wondering what if.

“Tripp.” His name fell from my lips on a rasp, my throat closing up as I prepared to make my confession.

He squeezed my hand. “I’m right here.”

Feeling our physical connection bolstered my courage, and the words rushed up my throat, “You’re the man I want to be with.”

His entire body stiffened, and my heart stopped beating, waiting for his reaction.

“Say that again?”

I opened my mouth, but this time, instead of words, something far less pleasant came out. My stomach lurched, and I couldn’t stop the vomit that splashed all over the interior of Tripp’s pristine truck. Nor could I keep it from continuing, my heaves uncontrollable until I spewed every last drop of the poison—otherwise known as alcohol—I’d ingested far too much of this evening.

“Fuck.”

Tripp’s curse was soft as he reached over to hold my hair back, and immediately, I burst into tears.

“Oh God. I’m so sorry.”

Audibly breathing through his mouth, Tripp rubbed soothing circles along my back. “It’s okay. At least tell me you’re feeling better.”

Sniffling, I groaned when the snot ran down the back of my throat, causing me to gag. Pressing my lips together, I managed a nod. “Mm-hmm. ”

“We’re almost home, and when we get there, we’ll get you cleaned up and tucked into bed, okay?”

Exhausted—both physically and emotionally—the last thing I remembered was humming in the affirmative before darkness dragged me under.

I cracked one eyelid open and instantly regretted it. The sunlight streaming in through the window pierced through my skull like an ice pick to my brain.

When I rolled over onto my belly, my tender stomach screamed in protest, and I let out a pained moan.

Fuck, what kind of rare torture was this?

The only thing that brought comfort was the scent of cloves on the pillow beneath my face. A smile curved on my lips as I thought of Tripp. Hands down, he was my favorite person.

It took a while for my fuzzy brain to catch up, realizing that my pillow wouldn’t smell like him.

That could only mean one thing.

I was in Tripp’s room.

Last night was hazy, and I couldn’t pinpoint exactly how I’d gotten up here. Though I did remember having a conscious thought about spilling my guts to my best friend about my feelings for him.

A gasp worked its way up my throat, and I sat up in bed. “Oh my God.”

Covering my face, I groaned as memories of last night came rushing back, and flashes of me literally spilling my guts all over Tripp’s truck came to mind. And that was after I’d told him I wanted to be with him .

This was so, so bad.

Peeking through my fingers, I saw that I was wearing one of Tripp’s T-shirts and a pair of his boxers. A gentle exploration through my tangled hair indicated that I’d slept on it wet.

I wasn’t sure which was worse—if Tripp was the one who had bathed and dressed me while I was blackout drunk, or if he’d asked his mother to help. I couldn’t be more embarrassed if I tried.

Slipping out of bed, I found a glass of water and painkillers sitting on the bedside table. Tossing back the pills, I greedily gulped the liquid, desperate to soothe the dryness of my mouth. Then, I noticed my clothes from last night were clean, dry, and folded on the window seat.

Of course they were. Poor Tripp probably hadn’t slept a wink last night, too busy cleaning up all of my messes.

Dressing quickly, I poked my nose out through the crack in the bedroom door. The coast seemed clear, so I slipped into the hallway and crept down the steps, hoping to avoid running into either of his parents. Though with the sun being as high in the sky as it was, the odds were good that Daisy was already at the school in town—where she served as its principal—and Jett was likely somewhere on the property doing one of the million things that kept this place running.

My boots were set neatly beside the front door, so I pulled them on before venturing outside. Only to have the shame over my behavior last night burn brighter when I stepped onto the wraparound porch of the main ranch house to find Tripp literally hosing down his pickup.

Taking a cleansing breath, I forced my feet to move down the porch steps and closer to where my best friend was hard at work, trying to purge the puke stench from his car’s interior.

Steering clear of the backwash soaking into the gravel at his feet, I paused near the front of the truck, leaning my body against the sun-warmed hood .

The movement must’ve caught his eye because Tripp looked up, his gaze softening when he caught sight of me.

A million butterflies took flight inside my belly, flapping wildly. Lord, I could get lost in those baby blues.

“You’re awake.” A gentle smile tipped up one corner of his lips as he shut off the hose. “How’re you feelin’?”

I lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I’ve had better mornings.”

Tripp hummed. “Yeah, I’ll bet.” He blew out a heavy breath before tugging on the back of his neck. “Listen, about what you said last night . . .”

My stomach dropped, and for a split second, I feared I’d get sick again.

He looked so uncomfortable. All because I couldn’t keep my damn mouth shut after drinking too much.

I had to fix this now, or else I could kiss the easy relationship with my best friend goodbye.

“Honestly, I, uh, don’t remember much of what happened after we left the bar.”

Those beautiful blue eyes widened before dropping to the ground. “Oh, right.” He toed the gravel. “Figured as much.”

“I’m sorry I ruined our fun night out.”

“Did you have fun in the parts that you can remember?”

“Yeah,” I answered honestly. “I did.”

He lifted his gaze. “Then that’s all that matters.” Tripp hitched a thumb toward his open truck door. “I’m gonna finish up here and grab a shower.”

Heat rose up my neck. “I’m sorry about that too.”

“Don’t be. I should’ve cut you off long before you got to that point. I’ve got no one else to blame but myself.”

“Tripp,” I said his name on a sigh .

He was always doing this. He never let me take the blame for anything. Even when we were kids and got into trouble—which was always my fault—he would confess to it being his idea, taking the brunt of the punishment from our parents.

He gave a firm shake of his head. “No arguments.”

My eyes lifted to the sky. Biting my tongue was hard, but I knew I wasn’t going to win this one.

“And no attitude, either.”

I leveled him with a glare in direct disobedience of his order.

Tripp tried to give me a stern expression, but it didn’t last long. Eventually, a dimple popped on his cheek, betraying he was fighting back a smile.

Tilting my head in the direction of my family’s house on the property, I shuffled back a few steps. “Guess I’d better head home.”

“Or you could stay.”

I shot a pointed look toward the hose dangling from Tripp’s fingers. “I’ve caused enough trouble, and you’re inviting me to hang around for more?”

“Not sure you can do too much damage with your skinny little ass parked on the couch watching romcoms all afternoon.”

“Movie marathon?” My voice rose in excitement. Curling up on the couch with Tripp sounded like heaven while I nursed the hangover from hell.

“‘Course.” He flashed me a cheeky grin. “Why don’t you run inside and get to work on the popcorn? I’ll be in in a bit.”

He didn’t need to tell me twice. I hightailed it to the kitchen, my heart a little lighter for having averted disaster, our close-knit bond seemingly intact and unchanged.

And as I cuddled into the straight-from-the-shower, fresh-smelling man of my dreams on the couch, I convinced myself that what we had was too special to risk. I could never give up these moments of quiet comfort with my best friend. It would kill me to lose the friendship we’d spent a lifetime building.

It was finally time to put all romantic notions concerning Tripp Sullivan out of my mind.

All that was left to do now was figure out how.