Chapter Ten
Luckily, Drew and Merrick don’t stay for long. I can thank Willow for getting bored and starting to whinge. But Trent has gone quiet again, thoughtful.
We’ve been here a few hours. Trent’s a good listener. It’s easy to describe my dreams for this piece of land to him. He seems as excited as I am, and as I pace around the land, my joy gets bigger and bigger.
“Are you hungry?” I ask Trent, who leans against the door of the Landrover, his eyes closed, letting the sun warm his face.
He’s beautiful. His features are fine—high cheekbones and a sharp jawline that’s softened by his short blond beard.
But it’s his piercing, bright blue eyes that captivate me the most. He turns his head to me, opening them.
The look he gives me is one of confusion.
At the question or whatever’s going on in his mind?
Maybe he’d lost track of where he is, lost in a memory I’m determined to eradicate.
“Hmm? Oh, yes, I could eat.” He smiles and pushes off the car.
As soon as I have him in the confines of the car, I ask him the question that’s been burning inside me. “Are we okay? If you’ve changed your mind about today or about me, you can say something. If you’re not interested, I’ll understand.”
“Let’s get some picnic food and go to the beach.” He doesn’t answer my questions. If this is his way of either ending it all or talking through his thoughts, I’ll listen.
I drive into the supermarket car park and, with some difficulty, find a space.
The place is heaving. It seems the holidaymakers all have the same idea as us.
When we get in the store, Trent chooses one of the smaller trolleys and heads to the self-serve salad bar, instructing me to grab some bread.
For not being here very long, he knows his way around the store and quickly fills the trolley.
“Red, white, or beer?” he asks as we head into the alcohol section.
“Either red or white, I don’t mind.” I grab a six-pack of an Italian beer I like while he picks a wine.
With everything packed into bags, we get back in the car. “Drive up to the cottage. I’ll get a blanket, and we can walk to the quiet corner of the beach from there.”
A hint of a smile laces his voice as if he’s looking forward to this. Hopefully, this means he’s not going to tell me goodbye. “You’re the boss.” I laugh lightly.
I grab some plates, cutlery, and glasses as Trent goes to find a blanket. “I’ve got two. We can spread out.” He walks out of the little bedroom.
“Sounds good.” I open my arm wide. “Lead the way.”
We climb up the top of the dunes. The view is stunning. The ocean stretches out before us, and to our left is the cove. I stop to take it all in. Trent looks over his shoulder and frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I haven’t spent much time on this side of the cove. It’s beautiful. I’ve been busy getting my business off the ground, so I didn’t have time for exploring.”
“That’s a shame. What’s the point of living somewhere beautiful if you don’t take the time to appreciate it? You may as well have stayed in your old job.”
I catch up to him and grab hold of his free hand. “Some of us aren’t lucky enough to have a six-week holiday.” I lean in and drop a kiss on his cheek. “You’ll have to show me all your favourite places.”
“I’m sure there are many more I haven’t discovered yet, but I like to hike, so I’ve done a few of the trails and along the coastal paths.
” I don’t share that I spend hours sketching as I look over the sea.
He points to a space between some dunes that will keep the breeze away from us. I nod, and we continue on our way.
“Grab this end.” Trent hands me one side of the blanket to lay out, and soon we’re unpacking our picnic.
“Did you always want to be a teacher?” I slather paté on a chunk of baguette. Trent is silent, twisting the stem of the wine glass from side to side. “Trent?”
“It just sort of happened, so no, not really.” He takes a sip, sighs, and leans back on one elbow, his gaze out to the sea.
“A casual comment from my science teacher on my abilities when I was about fourteen became my mother’s fixation.
It’s something that’s been on my mind for a while now.
Josh had always wanted to be an architect, and he succeeded and excelled.
” Trent laughs. I can tell there’s no animosity or sibling rivalry between them.
“And have you come to any conclusions about your future work?”
He turns to me. “I’ve got a gig on a worksite for a few weeks. The hot guy who’s bought it is letting me help clear the ground.”
“A hot guy, you say. Should I be jealous?” I smirk and lean towards him, taking his glass from him.
“Does he kiss like this?” I press my mouth firmly to his lips, which he parts immediately.
His tongue tastes of wine as it slides along mine, twisting and tangling as he deepens the kiss.
He lies down, taking me with him, and grips my hair.
We kiss for what feels like hours, and when we break apart, his eyes are dilated and his lips puffy. He looks blissed out. I cock my eyebrow when he giggles. “You look totally kissed out. I like it.”
“I was thinking the same about you, but you need to answer my question.”
He taps his finger on his bottom lip. “Hmm, I think I’d need more data. I mean, he is really hot.”
I hover over him, looking up and down his body. He lies still, eyes fixed on me, and licks his lips. “God, you’re beautiful,” I whisper. The blush rises from his neck to his cheeks. “Do you blush all over?” I brush my nose against his, and his breath hitches.
“I guess that’s something you’ll have to wait to find out,” Trent says softly, sliding his hands around my nape and threading his fingers through my hair. He pulls me back for another kiss. A slower one this time, languid and lazy, but just as sexy.
I lower down onto him, my arms on either side of his head, keeping the weight off his body.
The double layers of fabric between us don’t hide his erection, and when I rock my hips, he moans into my mouth.
He’s so responsive to everything. How long has it been since he’s been with someone?
I’m not someone who jumps quickly into bed for a random fuck.
I’m not a saint. I’ve hooked up with guys, but with Trent, it feels different.
He’s worth going slow and waiting for him to be ready.
I want to get to know him so much more. He’s going through a change in his life.
He needs his head in the right place and to have at least some ideas about his future before sex gets added to the equation.
“Okay. You’re the best kisser,” Trent murmurs.
As I roll to my side, his phone chimes. Trent groans and reaches for it on the other side of the blanket.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He snarls at the screen, then opens it. His expression doesn’t change, nor does he reply. All he does is shove his phone into his pocket. “Sorry about that.”
“You okay?”
“Yep.” He pops the P in obvious annoyance, then picks up his empty wine glass and pours himself another glass. “Sorry, it was from home, and that is never a good thing.”
I take the bottle and top up my glass. “Do you want to talk about it?”