4. Penny
Chapter 4
Penny
“What do you think about the peach?”
“Mmm?” My head lifted at my mother’s voice to find her pouring over a sample book inside the bridal boutique in Enid.
“For the bridesmaids,” she prompted.
“Oh, right. Whatever they have in stock that will fit Aspen is fine.”
My entire life revolved around Sullivan Ranch, and with my best friend being a man—who’d up and skipped town after learning of my engagement—my options for bridal attendants were severely limited. Aspen made sense as my matron of honor as we’d grown up together, even if I was closer with her brother. With the tight timeline, we’d decided to keep things intimate, so I’d asked Aspen’s best friend, Bex, to serve as the second bridesmaid and called it a day.
Mama hummed, standing to sift through the racks of maternity dresses. “It’s a good thing you’re getting married so quickly, or else something that fits her today wouldn’t still fit in two weeks. Even then, it might be a squeeze. I swear that girl went from a flat stomach to a big belly overnight. ”
While her back was turned, my hand ghosted over my lower abdomen. I wanted children so badly it made my chest ache. Sadly, the man whose ring was on my finger, the man who was willing to give me the family I craved, wasn’t the same one I grew up picturing as the father of the future babies.
You need to let this ridiculous childhood dream of riding off into the sunset with your best friend go. You blew your chance with Tripp years ago when you told him how you felt and then retracted it like a coward.
“I don’t see anything in peach. Blush might be the closest we get.”
“That’s fine,” I muttered distractedly. The details didn’t matter. I just wanted to get this over with.
“Okay, that’s settled, then. We have the girls’ measurements and can have Trisha alter them to fit.” She conferred with the saleswoman who had been assisting us since our arrival, and they arranged for those two dresses, along with the one I’d chosen for myself, to be delivered to Rust Canyon.
Pulling her purse onto her shoulder, Mama ushered me toward the door. “We better hustle our butts over to the bakery for the cake tasting before Jake starts to worry that you’ve gotten cold feet.”
Though her words were said with a teasing lilt, they hit a little too close to home.
Once we said “I do,” my life with Jake would be a done deal, so a part of me was searching for an excuse to call it off before we reached the point of no return.
If you’re looking for an out, shouldn’t that be enough to tell you this is a terrible idea?
Of course it’s a terrible idea! I’m settling because the only man I do want isn’t exactly an option.
But he could be. Everyone keeps whispering that he’s harboring the same crush as you .
What if they’re wrong?
What if they’re right? If there’s even the slightest chance you could have everything you’ve ever wanted, you need to tell him how you feel. Sober, this time.
It’s too risky. I can’t lose him.
You’re marrying another man. You’re going to lose him anyway.
“There’s my girl.” Jake’s voice pulled me out of my internal argument.
Plastering on a bright smile, I walked into his waiting arms, outside the bakery famous for its country-chic wedding cakes.
Mindful that my mama was present, he dusted a barely there kiss over my lips. “Find a dress?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Trying on gowns was a blur—literally. My vision had been distorted by tears I refused to let fall. Mama and the saleswoman had both assumed my emotional response was born from excitement and joy at the prospect of getting married, but in reality, grief overwhelmed me as I mourned the death of my dreams for the future.
“Can’t wait to see you in it, walking down that aisle toward me.” Jake gave my hip a squeeze.
“She’s gonna steal your breath away,” Mama chimed in from behind me.
Jake’s gaze shifted over my shoulder, and he offered my mother an easy smile. “Your daughter does that every single time I see her, Caroline.”
There was a swoony sigh in response, followed by, “Oh, young love.”
There was no denying the guy was totally into me. Which made me feel even more guilty for not having an available heart to give him.
I tilted my head toward the pane glass window of the bakery. “So, cake?”
My fiancé released his hold on me to rub his hands together. “Yes, cake. I skipped lunch to make sure I had enough room to try all the flavors.”
Deciding this man deserved better of me, I shoved my feelings toward Tripp deep down—which wasn’t hard since I’d had decades of practice—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.” I hated chocolate 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.”
Through all the curling and tugging strands of hair into place, I allowed my mind to zone out. If I thought too hard about what was set to happen in only a few short hours, I couldn’t guarantee my internal panic wouldn’t leak out and become known publicly.
As it stood, the week leading up to the wedding had felt like an out-of-body experience. It was as if I hovered above it all, watching on as I careened toward this disastrous union, being the only one who could put an end to the madness, yet my lips remained sealed shut.
The walls were closing in, and taking breaths grew more difficult with each passing minute as the situation I’d put myself in threatened to suffocate me.
I knew marrying Jake was a mistake, but my stubborn self was dead set on seeing it through. Especially when the only person on this planet who had the power to talk me out of it wasn’t returning my calls or answering my texts, putting to bed the notion that we could ever be something more than “just friends.”
Tripp had abandoned me when I needed him most, leaving me heartbroken.
“What do you think, honey?” Quinn spun me around in the salon chair and offered a hand mirror so I could view her handiwork.
The style she’d created gave off a romantic vibe. Loose strands framed my face while the rest of my hair had been pulled into a curly chignon at the nape of my neck. Though I looked beautiful, I barely recognized the woman staring back at me through the reflective glass. She was too polished, too perfect. There wasn’t a single trace visible of the girl who’d grown up a tomboy on the ranch—the one who preferred to roll around in the dirt over playing dress-up or dolls.
This was the woman who would become Mrs. Jacob Wallace. It only made sense that her appearance would be a sharp departure from the girl who’d spent years foolishly practicing the signature of Mrs. Tripp Sullivan.
That girl’s dream would die today.
“Can I get another mimosa?” I held up my empty champagne flute.
My mother frowned at me from across my childhood bedroom, but it was Aspen who shut down that request. “Sorry, but two’s the limit pre-ceremony. Once we get you hitched, you can celebrate with bubbly to your heart’s content.”
Stifling a sigh, I set the glass down on the vanity. “All right.”
“I’m going to pop downstairs and check to make sure everything’s set before I send your father up to retrieve you.” Mama rose from the window seat, smoothing the wrinkles from her dress before slipping out of the room.
Once she was gone, I walked over to the window, taking a peek out back where the small ceremony would to take place. No more than a dozen folding chairs were set out, and the makeshift altar consisted of the wooden arbor from Aspen’s wedding, covered in fresh flowers.
Bex’s kind voice sounded from my right. “You sure you’re okay, Penny?”
I kept my eyes locked straight ahead. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m getting married today.”
She sighed, tugging on my elbow until I was forced to turn and face her. Concerned eyes searched mine. “You haven’t been yourself these past few days.”
“Weeks,” Aspen uttered the word behind a fake cough.
“For the past few weeks, really,” Bex corrected her earlier statement at her best friend’s insistence. “It’s just us girls here right now. If you’re having second thoughts— ”
“I’m fine,” I cut her off, wincing when it came out more harshly than intended.
Bex clasped my hands in hers. “No one would blame you if you’re not. This came together really quickly.”
The last thing I needed was anyone feeding my doubts. I was at the finish line—or starting line, depending on how you looked at it—and I’d convinced myself that if I could make it through this day in one piece, I’d have no other choice than to settle into life with Jake. We had a lot in common, and I held onto the belief that somewhere along the way, I would find happiness with him as my partner.
“Seriously, Bex. I appreciate the concern, but I’m good. Better than good; I’m great.” I flashed her a bright smile. “Ready to get this show on the road, is all.”
Aspen shifted uncomfortably and hitched a thumb over her shoulder. “Mind if I take one last bathroom break before we get started?”
“Of course.”
“Is it okay if I steal Bex for a minute? I know it’s usually the bride who needs help keeping her dress out of the toilet, but bending over is a real struggle these days, and I don’t think I can reach the hem.”
Genuine laughter bubbled up from my chest for the first time in weeks. “Yeah, go ahead.”
Aspen was halfway to the door, but Bex remained by my side.
“Go,” I shooed her. “A minute of peace is exactly what the doctor ordered.”
Our brunette friend wagged a finger in my direction playfully. “Don’t think I won’t ask him if that’s true.” Her husband happened to be the town’s primary family physician.
“I hate to interrupt, but I don’t have much control over the baby bouncing on my bladder,” Aspen remarked from the open doorway .
Gently, I shoved Bex in that direction. “She needs you more than I do right now.”
She grumbled under her breath but finally trailed Aspen out of the room. I latched the door, dragging in a deep breath to center myself now that I was alone.
I can do this.
I can do this.
I can’t do this.
Panic clawed up my throat, choking me. Chest heaving, I couldn’t draw in enough air, and black spots danced across my vision. My heart rate tripled, and I grew lightheaded, swaying on my feet.
My fight-or-flight response kicked in, and I knew what I needed to do.
I had to get out of here. Now.
With the decision to flee made, I flung the door open, ready to bolt.
But the sight of the man standing on the other side caused my breathing to stop altogether.