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I didn’t mean to hit him when he was already down, but I couldn’t help the words as they flew out of my mouth.

A sex club?

Brandi?

Tiffany Gable?

I’m glad it’s out in the open. I don’t want secrets between us, and maybe this gives me permission to finally share my secret now, too.

Maybe we can both come clean and figure out how to move forward together.

I have no right to be angry that he kept secrets from me. I’d be a hypocrite to be angry for that.

God, even in a fucking sex club he went the route of swooping in as a hero with this aftercare nonsense. I’ve never met anybody with as big a savior complex as Tristan Higgins, and all this has done is set us back a few steps as I’m back to wondering whether he’s with me because he wants to fix me.

I don’t need fixing. I don’t need saving.

I just want a partner.

“I didn’t voluntarily sleep with her,” he murmurs.

“Oh come off it,” I spit. “Stop acting like a martyr.”

He shakes his head. “I was beyond wasted, Tess. I don’t remember a second of my night with her. All I remember is that I was trying to numb the pain from you leaving. I thought about driving to the Quad Cities to find that guy Robbie, the one Kevin Harkins always talked about who sold drugs. I thought about getting high. I thought about risking my entire future with something, anything that would take away an ounce of the pain I was feeling after you left. Tiff knew that. She sat with me while I cried over you, and then she took advantage of it. Of me . A few weeks later she claimed she was pregnant.”

“Was she?” I ask.

I shake my head. “She didn’t keep good track of her cycle and she got her period a few days later. I honestly can’t even confirm I ever slept with her. I blacked out that night.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” I ask. “Why are we keeping so many secrets from each other?” The words are out before I can stop them. I just admitted I’m keeping secrets, too, but he’s the one on the hot seat.

Luckily he glosses over my words.

“I couldn’t think of any good reason to tell you. Something happened that I have no memory of seven years ago.” He shrugs. “It’s not exactly breaking news, and I didn’t want you to be hurt by it.”

I think about that for a beat. Would telling him about the baby my dad made me give up change anything? Or would it only hurt us both?

“Would you have ever told me if I hadn’t brought it up?” I ask.

Maybe I’m looking for a reason not to make things harder between the two of us.

“I don’t know.” His brows dip. “Wait a minute. How did you know about it?”

“Your ex-wife,” I admit. “She called me not so long ago trying to get me to leave you.”

“Fuck her,” he mutters. “Why didn’t you tell me she called you?”

I don’t have an answer to that, but I do need to tell him something, too.

It’s time to come clean.

I draw in a deep breath as I try to gather the courage to tell him about my history, too—the history that involves him. I sway like a pendulum back and forth as I try to determine whether he should know, and right now I’m swinging in the tell him area. “As long as we’re sharing secrets, I have something I need to say to you, too.”

His brows draw together.

“When my dad put me in that car to go to my aunt’s house in Chicago, it wasn’t so I could finish high sch—”

Our hotel room phone starts ringing— loudly —interrupting my train of thought.

I glance over at the phone. “Who even knows we’re here?”

He shrugs and moves across the room to answer it. “Hello?” I listen to his side of the brief conversation, and when he hangs up, he blows out a breath. “It was the chapel welcoming us to the hotel and letting me know that the chapel is open now if we’d like to come take a look at the room where we’re getting married.” He pauses and glances up at me. “Assuming we’re still getting married.”

The moment has passed, and I’m not sure whether to be grateful or devastated. I wanted to tell him, but I’m also glad for the interruption.

I sigh, and then I stand and cross the room toward him. “Of course we’re still getting married,” I say softly. I reach my fingertips to the scruff on his jaw. “I’m glad you told me. I don’t think less of you because you went to that club. You shouldn’t be ashamed of what you did. If it made you feel good, or made you forget your pain, or made you happy…it’s not shameful. I grew up in a house where sex wasn’t talked about, where it was shameful and wrong, and I don’t want to raise my daughter in the same sort of environment. And it starts here.” I shrug. “I’m not saying it’s okay for her to go to a sex club, just to be clear.”

He chuckles.

“But what I am saying is that if you were in a safe and consensual environment and you found your place there, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” His eyes meet mine, and I wiggle my brows suggestively. “And if you ever want to take me there and introduce me to all the other celebrities…”

“Oh no you don’t,” he says, and he grabs me into his arms as we both laugh. “You’re all mine, Tessa Taylor.”

“And you’re all mine, too, Tristan Higgins.”

His lips lower to mine.

“Wait a minute…” I begin. I pull back from him and narrow my eyes. “Is that where you picked up the whole punishment thing?”

He raises his brows and smiles. “I might’ve picked up a trick or two there.”

He proves it then as clothes start flying off in every direction, and we have a super-fast quickie where he bends me over the side of the bed since he promised we’d be at the chapel shortly.

I guess my confession will have to wait a little longer.

We get dressed afterward and head down the elevator, and I’m in awe of everything around me on the entire walk over. When we get to the chapel where we’re getting married, a wave of destiny washes over me.

Ironic since it’s the Destiny chapel…but it’s perfect.

It’s simple and elegant, a white and bright small room with chairs set up facing a doorway where we’ll stand to be married in two days. Gorgeous white floral arrangements are situated around the room, and two huge floor vases serve to hold back curtains from the doorway.

A woman rushes into the room. “Tristan?” she asks, and he nods. She turns to me with a smile. “And Tessa. I’m Gloria.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say, and I reach over to shake her outstretched hand.

“And you,” she says formally, shaking Tristan’s hand next. “I’m your event coordinator. This is our Destiny chapel overlooking the gardens. We have seating for up to forty guests, and you’ll have exclusive use of this room plus photo and floral allowances with your package. We provide an officiant if needed, and there will be a thirty-minute rehearsal tomorrow afternoon should you require one. Do you have your marriage license?”

“Not yet,” Tristan says. “I was planning to take Tessa tomorrow.”

She nods. “They’re still open if you’d like to get it tonight. It’s always nice to have that time bumper if you can fit it in.”

She goes over more details, and I start to glaze over as it all quickly becomes overwhelming.

My brain is stuck on marriage license .

That makes it real.

Standing in the chapel holding Tristan’s hand while she goes over the details should make it real, but a marriage license is a tangible sign that we’re really doing this.

If someone would’ve told me a year ago when I was a single nurse sharing an apartment with my best friend in Chicago pining over my lost love and blaming my father for everything wrong in my life that this is where I’d be standing a mere three hundred sixty-five days later, I never would’ve believed it.

Yet here we are.

I’m pregnant, I’m about to marry Tristan Higgins—who’s a member of some sort of sex club, we own the house on the corner in Fallon Ridge, and I’m moving to Vegas to live with Luke and Ellie Dalton while we get settled.

I feel like I’m dreaming, like I’m floating on a cloud as Gloria takes us on a tour of the gardens at the Venetian, where we’ll take our wedding photographs after the ceremony.

I’m still floating as she takes me into a bridal suite to show me a selection of gowns. Big ones and small ones, long, and short, white and cream and even a black one, lacy and silky…there are dozens to choose from, and I pick the first one on the rack.

I slip into it, and I immediately know it’s perfect.

What a life. I feel blessed beyond measure.

Which is why I’m so completely blindsided when it all comes crumbling down.