Under the Texas Sky

CHAPTER 70

KIAN

Now, what the heck am I supposed to say to something like that? Trent is always able to articulate pretty words and weave them into love confessions that rival the oldest ballads. I don’t know what I have to offer him, but everything I have is his. The same claims he makes can be reversed to him as well.

“Ditto.”

He smiles at me, and I realize in that moment that Trent doesn’t need words of affirmation like I do. Like I’ve always needed. He’s quick to supply me with words to relay his love for me, but he needs me to show my love in different ways. In planning dates for us, because his excitement when I do that is like no other.

I’ve learned a lot from our time apart, but even this first therapy appointment has set me on the straight and narrow for being a better human and a better partner for Trent. Someone who’s learning to communicate, and can voice when they're upset and not have it lead to arguments or silent treatments. It’s going to take a lot to get over the trauma from my childhood and the trauma that has been festering inside of me. But with the help of Trent and Mitch, I know I can do anything.

We sit on the shoulder, only a few cars driving by, so I’m not too worried about us being in danger. But how can I even think of that when Trent’s mouth is on mine and his hand is twined in my hair, gripping the strands and sparking nips of pain and pleasure.

“I love you, Trent. I always have. I always will,” I murmur against his lips, and I can feel his mouth form into a smile. “So, can you tell me where we’re going now?”

“Nope.” He leans back, letting go of his grip on me and replacing both hands on the steering wheel.

I gape at him, my dick rock hard in my pants, and the rest of me begging to be put out of my misery.

Trent double checks that no one is coming and pulls back onto the road. The playlist is still streaming through the speakers–our playlist that we made. Every song through every phase of life we’ve had together. I’ve added a few new ones, and I can’t wait for him to listen to them later.

The buildings morph to houses and then to trees as we take the familiar road to one of our favorite places.

“You brought me to the park?”

He doesn’t say anything as he parks the truck, turning it off and getting out. I stay put, like the princess I am, and wait for him to open the door.

Trent doesn’t open my door. Instead, he opens the door to the backseat, and I hear him rustling around. The temptation to look is there, but I refuse to give in to it. I don’t need to be nosey.

I peek over my shoulder and see Trent pulling out a bundle of blankets, and my heart stutters in my chest. Are we going to have a picnic? I freaking love having picnics here with him. It’s one of the constants we do. But I don’t care. This is our spot, and I’ll come out here every day with him if that’s what he wants.

I twiddle my thumbs while I wait. When he must finally be happy with whatever he was doing, he comes and opens my door.

“Were you waiting patiently for me?” he asks.

I nod my head, still patiently waiting for him to get out of my way so I can get out of the truck and see what he has planned for us. This is going to be so much better than going to Mitch’s. Sorry, Mitch.

Trent doesn’t move. Instead, he reaches across me and unbuckles my seat belt for me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into him. I squawk and hurriedly wrap my arms and legs around his body, like a koala, so he won’t drop me.

“What are you doing?” I exclaim, happiness bubbling through me.

He holds me tight, keeping one hand banded across my back and the other one supporting my ass. I think he just wanted to touch my ass, if I’m being honest, but I’m not complaining. He can cop a feel if he wants. Multiple, preferably.

When he rounds the back of the pick up and sits me on the tailgate, he kisses me. Hard, pushing his tongue in my mouth when I gasp at the intensity.

“What?” I pull back, breathlessly and he presses a kiss to my forehead.

“I might have jumped the gun, but do you remember when I told you I wrote to you every day?”

I nod, quirking my brow because he brought me to the park to give me his journal?

“Well, I realized I couldn’t just give you a journal. I decided you needed something better. Something that was all yours, and something you could look at whenever you wanted and know that my love for you is endless.”

“Wouldn't I get that from the journal?” Confusion laces my tone, because I have no idea where he’s going with this. Unless, in the journal, he also writes about how much he hates me, and he’s using another gift to make up for how sad I’ll be when I read it.

“Yes, you would also get that from the journal… But I wanted something more.” He gestures to the black box, way too big to hold just a journal. “Open it, Ki,” he says.

I hesitate, my fingers slowly reaching toward it like I imagine bomb techs do when they see something suspicious. Trent doesn’t rush me, just watches as I pull the box toward me and peel off the lid.

Once I see what’s inside, my jaw drops. I don’t make a remark but the only thought flitting through my mind is that it’s way too expensive. Way, way too expensive of a gift.

“Well?” Trent asks, while I hold the camera in my hand.

The Nikon Z8. An expensive camera, but it’s supposed to be one of the best on the market for landscape photography. Tears that I can’t stop stream down my face. It’s not the gift that has me crying. Not the cost or whatever the heck else. But the thought that went into it. He sat in that coffee shop, listening to me talk about photography, and went out and found the best one for what I wanted to do.

“Why are you so good to me?” I ask him, my voice cracking and shattering with every word tore out of my chest.

“Because, Kian. You deserve the best.” He wipes my tears away with his thumbs, cradling my face in his hands. I turn my head to press a kiss against his palm. “That’s not all, though.”

I cough out a laugh, because how could he top this?

“I’ll give you a minute to get it out, and get the settings all figured out, but there’s one last thing to show you,” he says.

Trent watches me while I flip the dials and check the lighting. It’s perfect.

I jump off the tailgate and grab his hand. “Show me whatever you think it is that can top this gift.” Because I doubt anything will be better than this.

We cut across through the line of trees and into the clearing in the park where I first watched Trent, and where our love story truly began. I sneak pictures of him when he’s not looking, catching his side profile and the thick stubble that is growing on his cheeks.

Stepping on twigs and hearing them crunch underneath our shoes, I keep my eyes on the ground so I don’t trip over anything when we get closer to the clearing. That would be my luck to trip and fall and break an ankle, embarrassing myself and ruining whatever surprise it is that Trent has planned for me.

“Surprise,” he says, pulling me into his side and staring at the open clearing.

“Uhm–It looks great,” I offer, not sure what I’m looking at.

“I would hope so since it was a little pricey. I just thought you’d be more excited, he remarks.

I stare at him, flabbergasted. “Pricey?”

“Pricey,” he confirms, nodding his head toward the sign that is situated right along the treeline. Where it used to say Dupont Park, it now says Kian B. Smith Park.

“You bought me… a park?”

“Technically, I donated money to the park foundation, and they let me rename it. But yes, this park is yours.”

I tackle him, dropping my shoulder and taking him to the ground. With an oomph, I land on top of him. Staring into those brown eyes I love so much and that I will love until the day I die.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” I kiss him everywhere. On his forehead, where there’s a slight crease forming from how often he furrows his brows. A kiss on each eyelid, protecting those chocolate irises from the harshness of the world. Each cheek, covered with his dark stubble that slightly bites at my lips, but that’s okay. The tip of his nose. His lips. His chin. Every part of him deserves to be worshiped by me.

"I need you to fuck me. Here. Now,” I demand, grinding our lower halves together and nipping at the sensitive skin of his neck covering his jugular.

“Ki. We’re in public.” He sounds so scandalized, but his hips meeting my thrusts are telling a different story. He’s into it, no matter what he tries to say.

“Don’t care. I need you too badly. There’s no one around,” I reason, pulling his shirt down to bite down on his clavicles, and then soothe the spot with a soft lick.

“What if–”

I cut him off, pushing myself down to where my head is level with the hard length in his pants. “I’m going to take you out of your pants and suck you until you’re about to come. And then, when you’re begging and pleading with me to let you come, I’m going to put your dick in my ass and ride you. ‘Kay?”