Page 26 of Secrets of the Past (Secrets of Mustang Island #3)

T ripp had managed a room at the nicest hotel on the gulf facing the ocean. He didn’t care about the cost. He only wanted to give Nicole the best. This was not the night they stayed in a cheap motel when they were kids.

This was a new beginning. The hotel room door shut with a soft click, sealing them into quiet. The hum of the air conditioner filled the silence, faintly mixed with the smell of salt drifting through the old balcony door. The place was glamorous, the best he could get on such short notice.

Yet standing here with Nicole, it felt like the most intimate place he’d ever been.

She leaned against the door, her hand pressed flat against it as if to steady herself. The light from the bedside lamp spilled across her skin, catching in the strands of her ebony hair, making her look like a portrait he’d dreamed and lost and somehow found again.

For a moment, he couldn’t move. He was afraid this was a dream, that if he blinked too long, she’d vanish.

“I don’t want to waste another second,” he said, his voice low and rough.

Her lips parted, trembling. “Then don’t.”

That was all it took. He crossed the space and caught her face in his hands, kissing her like a starving man who had just been given bread.

The touch of her mouth sent fire through him.

She tasted of wine and salt, but underneath was something that was only Nicole, familiar, intoxicating, and devastating.

She melted into him, her arms twining around his neck, pulling him closer, as if she, too, had been waiting years for this moment. Her body pressed tightly to his, soft against hard, and the sound she made, a quiet gasp that broke into a sigh, nearly unraveled him.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he whispered against her mouth, pressing frantic kisses to her jaw, her temple, the hollow of her throat.

Tonight, the moment her hand slipped into his, it felt like coming home, as if every road he’d taken had been leading him right back here. This was where he belonged, where he’d always belonged. And he swore, then and there, nothing, no one, was ever going to rip this away from him again.

“Too many years,” she breathed, her hands clutching his shirt, tugging, desperate.

“Never again.” His vow was harsh, almost broken, against her skin. He kissed the line of her throat, felt her pulse leap beneath his lips, and nearly lost himself.

His hands slid down her arms, over her waist, reacquainting themselves with the curves that had haunted his memory.

She trembled, not with fear but with want.

When his fingers found the zipper at the back of her dress, she caught his wrist, her breath ragged.

For a heartbeat, he froze, but then she lifted her gaze to his.

Her eyes glistened with tears, but her voice was steady.

“Are we really doing this?”

He cupped her face with his free hand, his thumb brushing away a tear that spilled down her cheek. “We’ve been doing this since we were married. We just let everyone else get in the way. Not anymore.”

Her breath hitched, and her grip loosened. “Then don’t stop.”

The zipper slid down, a whisper against the quiet. Fabric gave way and slid from her shoulders, pooling at her feet. The sight stole his breath. Lace clung to her body, delicate and devastating.

“Beautiful,” he said, reverent.

She flushed, but her chin lifted, bold in her vulnerability.

She reached for his shirt, her hands unsteady as she fought with the buttons.

He covered her fingers, stilling them for a moment just to feel her touch.

“Slow,” he said, though the pounding of his heart urged anything but. “I want to remember every second.”

Her answering smile was watery and fierce. “Then remember this.”

Her palms slid beneath his shirt, over his chest, tracing muscle and scar, leaving heat in their wake. When her fingers brushed the hollow just above his heart, he felt undone, as if she’d reached past bone and flesh to the core of him.

Why had it taken them this long to find their way back to each other? So many years wasted, so many moments stolen-time they could never get back.

Twenty years gone, and love had been the casualty.

Clothes fell away in a blur. The carpet was littered with fabric, but neither cared. They stumbled back toward the bed, mouths fused, laughter breaking out once when he tripped on his slacks, then dissolving again into a kiss that burned away everything but need.

When her bare skin pressed against his, her heat seared him.

He felt her ribs rise and fall against his chest, her hands splaying along his back, her legs tangling with his as she pulled him closer.

Every nerve lit up. He kissed her harder, slower, softer, desperate to taste every part of her he had been denied for so long.

They found the mattress, and he lowered her onto it with a care that belied the urgency in him. Hovering above her, he braced his weight, staring down at her. The lamplight painted her in gold and shadow, the softness of her mouth, the sheen of tears that hadn’t yet fallen.

“Tell me this is real,” he rasped, his voice hoarse.

Her hands framed his face, her thumbs brushing his jaw. “It’s real. It’s always been real.”

Something broke inside him then. He kissed her again, tasting tears and salt and fire, and when she opened to him, when her body arched into his, he moved with her. Slow, deep, savoring, until she gasped his name and clung to him as though she would never let go.

Every movement was a reclamation. This is ours. This was always ours.

The rhythm grew, steady, then urgent, their bodies remembering each other in ways their minds had tried to forget. Her nails raked gently down his back, her breath stuttered in his ear, her thighs locked around him.

“Tripp,” she whispered, voice breaking. “I never stopped.”

Emotion surged so strongly, his chest ached. “I know,” he groaned, kissing her hard, as if he could pour every regret and every promise into her mouth.

The pace quickened, wild, until she cried out beneath him, her face alight with release, and he followed her, shattering with a force that left him trembling.

He collapsed against her, their hearts pounding in unison, sweat dampening their skin. He pressed his lips to her temple.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words raw and unguarded.

She turned her head, meeting his gaze. Tears streaked her cheeks, but her smile was luminous. “I love you too.”

He kissed her again, slow and tender this time, as if sealing a vow.

It was as if they’d stepped straight out of their wedding night and into this moment, the years between them erased. Nothing had truly changed—the love still surged between them, steady and unstoppable, flowing like a river that had never run dry.

All those years lost, and still, she was his.

The night stretched into something timeless.

They moved together again, slower now, discovering and rediscovering.

Between kisses, they whispered truths they’d been too afraid to say for years.

She told him she had compared every man to him and found them all wanting.

He admitted he’d buried himself in work because nothing else could numb the loss.

Each confession was a thread pulling them closer, binding them together.

When exhaustion finally claimed them, they fell asleep tangled in hotel sheets, his arm locked around her waist, her breath warm against his chest.

Morning sunlight streamed through the thin curtains, golden and soft. Tripp stirred, the hum of the ocean outside the balcony filtering into his half-dreams. He blinked awake to find Nicole curled against him, her hair spilling across the pillow, her leg draped over his.

For a moment, he just lay there, memorizing her in the morning light. This wasn’t a dream. She was here.

Carefully, he slipped free, pressed a kiss to her temple, and crossed to the corner of the room. The coffeemaker sputtered to life, filling the air with the sharp scent of brewing coffee. He poured two mugs, the steam curling upward.

Sliding open the balcony door, he stepped outside. The ocean stretched endlessly, its surface glittering under the rising sun. He took a deep breath, letting the salty air fill him, a peace settling into his bones he hadn’t felt in decades.

No matter what the future held, he wanted her at his side. He would fight for her, move heaven and earth if he had to, and never again let anything—or anyone—tear them apart. Not even his mother. Especially not his mother.

Behind him, the door opened softly. Nicole appeared, wrapped in the motel blanket, her hair tousled, her eyes still heavy with sleep.

Seeing her now pulled him straight back to that first morning they’d woken as husband and wife—the glow in her eyes, the way she’d stolen his breath. Only now, she was even more beautiful, time and heartache somehow shaping her into the woman he could never stop wanting.

She’d been his then, and God help him, she was even more his now.

He handed her a mug. Their fingers brushed, and she smiled, small and secret, like they were sharing the best-kept secret in the world.

“This feels amazing,” she said, gazing out at the ocean and then looking at him.

“Like the first day of the rest of our life,” he said.

A blush filled her cheeks, and she reached out and took his hand.

They stood side by side at the railing, sipping coffee, watching the tide pull in and out. The silence was companionable, deep, a balm to everything they had endured.

Finally, Nicole tilted her face toward him. “We still have to face them,” she said quietly. “All of them. And learn the truth.”

Tripp nodded, slipping his arm around her shoulders. “We will. Together. This time, it’s ours to decide.”

She leaned into him, her head against his shoulder. “Then whatever comes… we’ll survive it.”

All he wanted was to drop to one knee and ask her to be his forever, to finally finish what they’d started twenty years ago.

But before they could claim the future waiting for them, they had to confront the past and burn away every lie that had ever stood between them.

Only then would the future truly be theirs.

And when the past was finally buried, he would put a ring on her finger and never let her go again.

He kissed the top of her head, pulling her closer beneath the blanket.

For the first time in twenty years, he believed her.