Secret Rooms and Stolen Kisses: A Romance Read online

  "I know. I did a lot this morning, but then I went at it this afternoon. I had to blow off some steam."

  "If that's about my dad, I'm sorry. He did like you. He told me you were good."

  "It's fine," he said. "I might have done the same thing in his position. I just needed a minute to cool-down and recover from that workout. I came over here and worked, and compared to that workout, it was like a vacation."

  I laughed at him. I was really relieved that he wasn't mad.

  "Besides, I had to clean it. I had to see what was going on in here. It's going to get dirty again once construction starts, but I wanted to see what I was working with. One thing led to another, and I just ended up working like mad."

  "It looks unbelievable," I said, marveling at how shiny it was with the lights on. There were two of them… wall sconces that lit up the room with a soft amber glow. "I can't believe you got all this done so fast." I gazed at the shelves, which were polished and glossy.

  "I've done nothing but work this afternoon. I didn't even realize what time it was. I had music playing. I almost didn't hear you knock. I'm surprised I did. It's just because I was right there by that wall."

  I stood in the middle of the room. It was beautiful, and I was stuck in there with my prince charming. I felt like I was in a dream. I turned and made eye contact with Trey. He still had the radio on, but he had turned it down. "This is wonderful," I said. "It's just really… perfect."

  I took the next couple of minutes to check it out and take it all in. The lights and cleaning made a gigantic difference.

  Trey had a big paper cup from a gas station. He took a sip of whatever was in it, and I asked him if I could have one as well. He warned me that the ice was mostly melted and then he grinned at me for being willing to drink out of his cup. We shared a few seconds of eye contact, and my heart sped up, but we didn't say anything. I took a sip. It was iced tea, and it tasted great.

  "Wait till I get that window working," he said, changing the subject as I set the cup down. "And I'm having thoughts about a different exit route." He pointed to the spiral staircase that led downstairs. "I'm thinking about extending the stairs and making a better exit to the roof from this room. Because, even with the ladder and a window that opens, this would be an emergency exit only. I can't imagine going in and out of a window."

  I pictured stairs leading to the roof. They would only take up a little corner of the room, and it would be neat to have an official exit route.

  "I think that would be amazing," I said. "Plus, the spiral stairs look so cool that they would be pretty in this room. Do you think you could get some that look similar? Where do you even get spiral stairs?"

  "I'm having that contractor look at everything. He'll be here later this week. If all else fails, I could just have a staircase custom made, though. For the right price, you can have anything made."

  I walked over to the wall on my right, leaning against it and trying to imagine the stairs going up to the ceiling. They would be really cool in this room.

  "Is this 202?" I asked, touching the wall behind me."

  "Yes. I brought a compass up here to make sure. But yeah, that's the storage closet, and the one you're touching is 202."

  I turned and leaned against the wall to his apartment. "It would be really cool to put a door right here. You know, sometime, eventually, I might rent that space downstairs, and if you were ever in town visiting and you stayed in 202, you could use this passage to… come get me if you need anything."

  "Oh, while you're downstairs in your ballet studio?"

  "Yeah, well, what did you decide with 202? Are you renting it to someone else, or are you going to keep it vacant and stay there when you visit Galveston? Because if it's basically your apartment, it'd be cool for you to have access to this room."

  He stepped closer to me, and I felt my heart speed up. "What's an ideal scenario for you, Tara?" He stood right beside me, and I stared at his face, at his mouth. My heart was beating faster and faster the closer he got.

  "Your lip," I said regretfully when my eye fell onto his cut.

  "It's nothing."

  "I'm sorry," I said. "And my dad was sorry, too."

  The corners of his mouth rose in a wry smile. "Was he?" Trey asked.

  Chapter 11

  "Yes, he was sorry," I said. "He said he did it by accident."

  "Okay," Trey conceded, nodding. But I could tell he didn't quite believe me.

  "Did it bust on the inside?" I asked, still inspecting his lip. There was a little bulge near the cut, but it looked good on him—it made him look tough. Staring at his mouth, inspecting his cut, proved to me one thing… that I desperately wanted to kiss Trey Harper. My stomach tied into a big pile of knots as my eyes roamed over his mouth. Goodness gracious, I was breathless.

  "What do you mean did it bust on the inside?" he asked. He was smiling at me when he asked the question, and I watched his mouth, the way it moved when he spoke and when he smiled.

  Oh, no. This was bad. I wasn't sure if I had ever wanted to kiss someone as badly as I wanted to kiss Trey right then. It was with great difficulty that I stopped myself from doing it. I had to do something to get my mind off of pressing my lips to his. I reached up carefully, placing my palm against his jaw. I used my thumb to gently prod the area near his cut in a detached, professional way, like a doctor would.

  "I was wondering if you had a big, busted lip on the inside, or if it's just cut from the outside," I said. I made a face like it was all very clinical and I was concentrating as I felt the area near his mouth. Then the butterflies took over, and I quickly let him go.

  "It's doesn't feel like it's that bad," I said.

  "It's not," he said.

  "But I'm still sorry."

  "It's all right. I can't say that I blame him."

  "Why?"

  "Because he's protective. I told him I like you."

  "Did he do it on purpose?" I asked with a serious expression.

  "Yes. But it's not that big of a deal. He doesn't know me. He doesn't know what my intentions are. For all he knows, I could be making you feel like you owe me something because of the deal with the rent."

  "But you aren't," I said.

  "Yeah, but your dad doesn’t know that. Plus, he's Billy Castro. I sort of feel like I'm getting off easy with a little busted lip."

  He smiled, and I dropped my hand and smiled back at him.

  "I didn't mean for you to stop," he said.

  "Stop what?" I asked.

  "The check-up. The stuff you were looking at on my face."

  My grin broadened when I understood what he was saying. I moved a little closer as a distraction to myself.

  "It's not too bad," I said, feeling too shy to reach up and touch his lip again.

  "What? You barely even looked at it," he said.

  "I did look at it," I said. My eyes roamed over his jaw, neck, shirt, chest, and then neck again. He was being patient, being quiet, waiting for me to look at him. I let my eyes meet his, and his mouth moved just enough that I caught the hint of a smile.

  "In a fantasy world, I own my own ballet studio in this beautiful building. I'd have this whole hallway off limits to students, and I'd disappear back into this closet and climb a staircase wall where I'd find a secret room. I'd get to come up here and kiss a handsome prince, and then I'd go back downstairs where I'd finish teaching ballet."

  "Am I a handsome prince in this story?" he asked. "Because I couldn't quite tell."

  "Yea-absolutely," I said.

  "Because I didn't set out to trap a ballerina when I took over this building. This happened by accident." He spoke slowly and thoughtfully, his deep voice sounding soft and low like velvet. I was breathless. I looked around slowly and then back at Trey.

  "If this is a trap, then I've thought of traps all wrong. I thought it was only a trap if the one who's caught doesn't want to be there."

  Trey started leaning closer, looking at me, putting his face closer to mine.
My heart was beating like a wild bird. I looked up and he ducked, putting his mouth right next to my cheek. I could feel him against my skin.

  "You are beautiful," he said.

  I reached out and placed my hand on his arm. We were close to the wall, but I was dizzy with adrenaline and anticipation, so it felt good to have him there to steady me.

  "I could see myself building a door right here if I thought you'd appear on the other side of it," he said.

  "If you build a door there, you should never rent it out again. It would just have to be your place."

  "I might try to come to Galveston more frequently if I thought you wanted me to."

  I stared up at him, feeling like he was taller than six-two.

  "I thought you assumed I wanted you to come by now," I said. "And if you do come back, you have to promise to go back to the gym," I said. "I don't want you to worry about the busted lip."

  "I’m not worried about it," he said.

  "Good, then, neither of us are worried," I said.

  "Good," he said.

  "But, seriously, you should put doors and windows where you want," I added. "Don't listen to me when I'm talking about making a—"

  I stopped talking in mid-sentence because Trey leaned down and kissed me. He let his mouth touch mine, and I held on for dear life as an overwhelming wave of joy and relief washed over me. It felt so good. My body was cool and electric. We had been close to this the night before, and all of today, I had looked forward to this moment. I leaned into it, and Trey adjusted, licking his lips and kissing me again.

  One, two, three gentle, warm, slick kisses.

  His mouth was soft but not too soft. It felt perfect. It felt like I knew it would feel. Trey was an experienced kisser. He never made a wrong move.

  I was in love.

  ***

  Trey kissed me several other times during the days that followed. We had seen each other quite a bit. He had a productive week of contracting work and negotiating the other property, and he would leave for Nashville, as planned, in the morning.

  Trey and I definitely had chemistry. There was no doubt that we were attracted to each other. But at the same time, we had plenty of time spent talking or cleaning—doing things where we weren't getting close to each other.

  I helped him continue to clean the secret room. It was so much better on the first day, that I didn't realize how much still needed to be done. I worked Wednesday morning and Thursday afternoon, helping him get all the crevices and high places.

  On his last day, Trey went to another boxing session, and my father had worn him out again. He sparred with Trey, taking him to his limits. Trey was athletic enough, but it was impossible for him to keep up with my father who was a master at his craft.

  Dad put him through the wringer for two hours. I watched it happen, feeling like I was witnessing some sort of rite of passage. I didn't apologize to Trey for the fact that it happened, but I did let him know I was proud of him for enduring it. He said that he could tell my dad had good intentions. He seemed to understand that my dad's actions stemmed from a place of love and protection. I was just happy that he wasn't frustrated. He was physically spent afterwards, though, and we had to pause for some food and a break, but he was still in a good mood.

  We spent time in the secret room that evening, listening to music while we worked. Several times, Trey busted out singing or dancing. He didn't normally speak with a heavy southern drawl, but he imitated country music, and I marveled at how spot on he was. I didn't usually like country music, but something about hearing it come out of the mouth of a handsome man really added to the appeal. He did it as a joke, but I secretly liked it.

  Trey and I laughed and goofed off together. It was like we had always known each other. And just like that, it was Thursday night, and we were saying goodbye.

  I had no idea when I would see him again. His next trip to Galveston was scheduled for next month when he signed papers on the pink building.

  It could be a month before I saw him again.

  Things were likely to work out that way.

  We had already talked about me keeping an eye on the renovations. Trey told Todd and his contractor from Nashville about me and told them that I would be his go-between.

  We had talked a lot about the building renovations. He decided to put a door leading into the secret room from apartment 202. Because of the compact area they were working with, it would be more of a half door, and it would be, again, disguised as a bookshelf. Trey hired teams of quality craftsmen to build specialty pieces, and a select crew from Nashville do the demolition, construction, and installation. I couldn't wait to see the results.

  Trey and I had been in the room all evening, and then just like that, we decided to leave. It was time to say goodnight. We reluctantly left the secret room. He turned and waited for me when we got to the closet at the bottom of the steps. We had turned out the light upstairs, so the distant nightlight was all the light we had. It was near dark.

  Trey reached out for me, touching my arm. "I have two things to talk to you about, and I can't believe I waited until now. I don't know if I'll see you in the morning. I don't think I will, and I need to tell you these two things. I'm sorry I'm just now thinking of this. We can do it here or go upstairs to one of the apartments, if you want."

  "Now I'm so curious I want you to just say it right here."

  "One is that I wanted you to know I'm going to rent the downstairs to you. I figured we hinted at it before, but I wanted to say officially that I am planning on letting you move in downstairs. I decided that. I'm in the process of writing up the lease, but I won't go up much, if any at all, from what Mister McCain was paying."

  I tightened up instinctually, my toes curling with excitement. I wanted to squeal, and I had to hold myself back. "Thank you," I said.

  "And I really don't want you to feel like you owe me anything," he said. "I'm happy to have you here. I know you'll take care of the place, and eventually, when your dance school is busting at the seams, you can pay me what the building's worth."

  I hugged him tightly.

  "I am so excited, you have no idea."

  He held me back. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the closet, and I stared at the paneling on the back wall, taking a mental snapshot of the way I felt in this moment, in this dark, cramped room. It was a tangible feeling of bliss.

  "What's the second thing?" I asked.

  "Oh, that… uh… this one's… maybe I should have given you that first one last because it was the good news."

  "Is the next one something bad?" I asked.

  "No, no, it's not bad, it's just a little… I don't know, awkward, maybe. Honestly, I don't think it happening is awkward I just sort of feel awkward about telling you about it."

  "Oh, now I'm dying to know," I said, pulling back and trying to focus on him in the dark closet.

  "No, now I've built it up too much. I'm sure you're not even going to care. It's just a wedding. I'm going to a wedding in Mexico. I don't even know the people. My friend, Beth, she's the maid of honor at this wedding, and everybody's taking dates so she asked me to go down there with her so she won't be alone. It's not that we're dating, we're not, but she had asked me to this wedding with her a few months ago, and we're old friends, so I said I would. I had this planned, not knowing that I would be spending time with you, and it's—"

  "It's totally fine," I said. I was so elated with the news about the building that, in that moment, I would do or say anything to keep him from changing his mind about it.

  "It is?" he said. "You don't care?"

  "No, no, no, I'm not, we're not, I mean, I know you had plans ahead of time, and you and I hadn't even talked about things like that."

  "So, it doesn't bother you at all?"

  "No, no, honestly, not at all. I'm glad that's all it was. I got scared for a second when you said it was bad news."

  "Okay. Are you sure?"

  "Yeah, definitely. When even is it?"
r />   "In three weeks," he said. "I'll go home to Nashville afterward, but then I'll turn around and come here."

  "Yeah, you definitely shouldn't pass up a trip to Mexico," I said. "Don't factor me into that kind of thing. I really don't care."

  Chapter 12

  A month later

  I cared, I cared, I cared so much.

  I told Trey that I did not care if he went to Mexico on an extended, glamourous wedding vacation as a date to a most-likely-beautiful woman, but I cared. I cared way more than I thought I would.

  Dang it.

  I had no idea why I was so nonchalant when he talked to me about that blasted trip to Mexico. I basically begged him to go. What had I been thinking? I experienced regret and jealousy in full force during the month that followed. I had to make a conscious choice to not obsess about the regret.

  I talked to Trey during the three weeks before his trip, but I didn't let all of my walls down. We talked about neutral topics, like construction and general progress on the building. It was difficult to keep my distance when I was so tempted to give in to the fairytale feeling of it all, but I just couldn't let myself be vulnerable with that trip coming up.

  Todd completed his work on the downstairs in no time. He was aware that there was construction on the roof, but I told him it was happening upstairs, which was the truth and all he needed to know. I had fun managing things, and I found myself downstairs quite a bit, making plans and watching progress. I talked to Trey, but I mostly kept it work related. In the back of my mind, he would go to the wedding and things would happen that would result in getting my heart broken. I felt like I was holding my breath until he got that trip over with.

  And finally, after what seemed like a year, ten years even, it was time for Trey to come back to Galveston.

  So much had happened with the building that I couldn’t believe it had only been a month since his last visit. The secret room was totally transformed. Apartment 202 also had work done, and I was extremely excited for Trey to see all of it.

  It was Friday afternoon when he arrived in Galveston. I had been in close enough contact with him that I knew he would be there by dinner time.