Chapter Eighteen
Trent tosses his phone into the side table drawer and closes it without slamming it or showing any other emotion.
He puts on a pair of sweat shorts and a T-shirt.
It’s still warm enough not to want to overdress.
I pull my jeans back on, leaving my chest bare, all the time watching Trent. He scowls at the drawer.
“Is there a problem? I can let you have some privacy if you need to take a call.”
“Huh? Oh no, sorry. That is someone I most definitely do not want to talk to.” He turns his back on the drawer and steps up close to me. He runs his hands down my ribs to rest on my hips, stroking the deep V running down my hips with his thumbs.
I’m guessing it was either family or the ex. I’m certainly not going to be pushing him to talk to them again. His reaction to the phone call is enough to make me want to keep them away from him.
“Tell me more about the nursery you want to build. What brought you here, to Calston Cove?” He moves us back to sit on the sofa. He picks up a pencil and a pad from the coffee table and starts to sketch. I don’t want to see him draw but would much rather wait for the finished piece.
“It’s been a dream of mine for so long now.
I can’t remember how it started. But like for most people, life gets in the way of your dreams as earning a living takes over.
You know what this feels like, Trent. You’re living it now.
I’d done some research for gardening services in rural areas, and this town turned up with the least amount, so I took the chance and came here.
I didn’t live here immediately, but after taking my first job, the one at Merrick’s, I fell in love with the place.
The people are great. The community is open-minded and inclusive, something I didn’t expect. ”
“Yeah, from what I’ve seen, it’s a friendly place.” He lifts his head from the pad. “The local gardener sure is very friendly.” He winks and puts his pencil down. “Do you want to see it?”
The glint in his eye has me nervous. What has he drawn?
I lean over the seat and look down at the drawing.
My breath leaves in a whoosh. I expected to see me lounging on the sofa, but no, I’m sprawled naked on the rumpled sheets of Trent’s bed.
My dick is flaccid, lying against the top of my thigh.
My hair is mussed up, and I look totally blissed out.
My eyelids are heavy and my lips puffy, but I’m wearing a lazy smile.
“It’s not finished. I need to add the watercolour paints to soften the edges. It will make it less graphic, more subtle.”
It’s incredible. I want to keep it, to frame it just as it is. “Is this how you see me?” There’s no way I look like this outside of his head.
He nods. “You’re model handsome, Merlin, if not better.”
“I like it like this. Can I keep it?” I reach out my hand.
Trent bites his lip and fidgets, keeping the pad away from me. “What? No, it’s not finished. This is just a sketch. It will look so much better finished.”
“Can you copy this? You can do a finished version on that one, but I like this. It’s more personal this way. Something that only you and I have shared.”
Trent’s eyes swim in tears again. Only his rapid blinking prevents them from spilling over. “I like that idea.”
He tears the page from the pad and passes it to me with a tremble in his hand. The need to hold him surges in a big way. I stride around the furniture to him. “Come here, silly.” I wrap him up, and he weaves his arms around my neck and buries his head in the crook of my shoulder.
“You’re going to be sick of me and my stupid emotions,” he mumbles into my neck.
“Never. I don’t think I’ll ever be sick of you. You’re making me feel things I’ve never had before.” I kiss the top of his head.
He tilts it up and smiles. “You’re not the only one.”
We stay like this, just holding each other close.
“Will you stay?” He pulls back. He looks more sure of the question or maybe of my reply because excitement shines in his eyes.
“I’d love to. I may even have hoped you’d say that.”
“Is that why you bought so much food? You’re planning breakfast too?” His laugh sounds a lot more relaxed, more confident. Hopefully, he’s beginning to believe that I truly want to be here with him.
“Hmm.” I can’t hold back my smile. “Maybe subconsciously, or perhaps it was wishful thinking.” I kiss his forehead.
“Did your wishful thinking go far enough ahead to bring some clothes for the morning?”
Is there a right or wrong answer to this?
We’ve shared a lot about ourselves. Add the fact that we’ve both come down each other’s throats.
I think we’re good to spend the night together.
Will we fuck? No, probably not. I’m not expecting that from him, not tonight.
Not until he’s ready and trusts that I’m not going to ghost him after we’ve done that.
“I’m not sure what the right answer to that is. ” I chuckle.
Trent shakes his head. “Well, did it?”
I scratch the back of my head. “Yeah, I’ve left them in the car.”
“You’d better go and get them, then. I’m ready to get back into bed with you.” He wanders away towards the kitchen. Judging by the clinking and clattering, he must be loading the dishwasher. I like the domestic sounds more than I thought.
The trip to my Landrover takes less than a minute. When I return, Trent isn’t in the kitchen, but I hear him speaking, and he doesn’t sound at all happy. Not wanting to appear like I’m snooping, I follow his voice to the bedroom.
“I truly can’t believe you’d be such a twat.
… Oh, just fuck off, Marc. You’re a horrible man and were an even crappier boyfriend.
Oh, and by the way, I have a new boyfriend, and he’s got a massive dick and knows what to do with it, unlike you.
” When my bag hits the bed with a clunk, he turns from the window, the black of the night not giving him anything to look at.
He stabs at the screen, then throws the phone onto the bed with a huff of annoyance.
Instead of looking surprised or angry at my appearance, he shakes his head. “God, that man!”
“He called again? What’s his problem? Has he finally realised that you’re a great boyfriend and he’s missing you?”
Trent’s lip quirks. “Nope, he’s realised that nobody actually likes him, and he’s not used to that. So he wants me back.”
“He said that to you? In those words?” God, this guy is such a wanker. “I’m glad you told him to fuck off.”
“It wasn’t those exact words but close enough.
I know he’s not liked. In fact, he’s barely tolerated.
But it seems that people like me, and they asked about me.
He told them I was ill and had gone away to recuperate.
Now it’s time to get over myself and get back home to him so that he doesn’t look stupid. ”
“Which was why you told him to fuck off.”
“No. I told him to fuck off when he said I needed him, that I’ll come running back to him. That’s when I told him I had a boyfriend. I’m sorry. You’re not really my boyfriend, but it was the only way to shut him up.”
“But what if it’s true and I am your boyfriend? I mean, I’d like to be. Officially and all that. If you’d like that too.”
Trent gapes at me. Is it really that big a deal? I thought we were pretty sound together.
“I’d like to. I’d really bloody like to be your boyfriend.”