Golden: A Paranormal Romance

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Golden: A Paranormal Romance Page 54

by Ellis Marie


  I don’t even remember mentioning to him that this is my favourite flower. In fact, I’m pretty certain that I never have.

  “How about you two lovebirds go before the pack decide to join in on the date?”

  The two of us are shaken out of our moment by Scarlette’s shove. We stumble to the front door, Trent quickly opening it for me as we walk out into the warm evening.

  “Stay safe, you two!”

  I blush heavily at the cheers and wolf whistles that echo after us as Trent, yet again, opens my door and helps me into the car, softly shutting it behind me. Before he comes round to the driver’s side however, I see him go back to the group of boys at the door and give them orders, their attentions sharp and focused.

  They disappear as Trent turns and heads back to the car, his dark jacket shining in the setting sun. For once, he’s not wearing his leather jacket. Instead, his body is clad in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His jeans are dark and simple, and he’s pretty much the image of perfection in my eyes.

  Jeez, I’m definitely crazy for him.

  He jumps into the car and throws me a grin, wiping his hands on his legs before taking the wheel. The nervous action makes me smile.

  “Ready to go?”

  I nod but then quickly grab his arm before he can start the car, my patience too weak to wait and ask.

  “Trent, how did you know this was my favourite flower?”

  His bashful expression is immediate, and he even seems to wince a little as looks out of the window, avoiding my curious gaze.

  I don’t think I could ever get used to this shy and blushing version of Trent.

  “You kind of said something about it in your sleep last night. I asked Scarlette to double-check with Kristie today, but yeah, sorry if that’s a little strange.”

  The only time that I have ever gotten white roses is from my grandmother. She used to give them to me on my birthday, but I hadn’t received any since she died. Matt used to only buy me red ones; he preferred them, and therefore, I grew to like them.

  But this . . .

  “Was it too much? I’m really sorry,” Trent rambles, panicked. It’s only now I realise that my eyes are watering.

  “I can take it back?”

  “No, I love it,” I explain, smiling. “I’ve just not gotten one in a long time, not since my grandmother died.”

  Trent’s eyes widen at my confession and I realise how it sounds.

  “I’m glad you’re the first person since. It’s beautiful and it’s perfect. Thank you for getting me it.”

  Carefully, I lean across the armrest and kiss his cheek gently, hoping that he believes me. His lashes flutter before he watches my retreating figure as I sit back down in my chair, the two of us silently smitten by the moment.

  Without saying as much as another word, Trent starts the car and reverses it out the drive, his fingers turning the radio to a quiet and melodic station.

  “Where are we going?” I ask after a moment, watching as we head to the road that leads out of town and to the forest.

  Trent looks at me with a smirk, pulling on his sunglasses as the dying rays beam into the car.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  We drive for quite a long time with music softly playing between us as Trent tells me about his day in an attempt to stop my guesses of where we’re going.

  The houses around us turn into trees and hills, any sign of people being left and wilderness taking over. The setting sun gets lower and lower in the horizon.

  The nerves in my stomach are still coiled tightly, but the giddiness coursing through me is making my toes curl.

  My body just doesn’t know what to do with itself.

  Looking over at Trent, I realise that his knuckles are pretty much white and the muscle at the side of his neck is protruding quite harshly. At least I’m not the only one who’s nervous.

  I give up on trying to guess as we take a turn and head back into a forest, descending into the valley below through winding roads with breath held in anticipation.

  “Is this when you murder me?” I tease, motioning to a sign that we slowly crawl past, which indicates that the road isn’t suitable for cars and that the property is private. “Or are we breaking in somewhere?”

  Trent grins at me, unbuckling his seatbelt as he jumps out of the car and runs to the gate in front of us. His hands fiddle with something at the lock.

  I roll down my window and stick my head out, trying to see what he’s doing in the dying light, but before I can ask, the gate squeaks and Trent lifts it, walking it forward with ease as he opens a path for us. He jogs back to the car and jumps in, pressing down on the gas again to move us.

  “You know I was joking, right?”

  Ignoring my question, he leaves the car again to secure the gate behind us. I can’t help but look around the forest in front of me in worry. Is someone going to burst out with a shotgun? Are we going to get in trouble?

  When Trent settles back into the car, he takes one look at me and starts laughing, shaking his head as he drives us through the trees.

  “We’re not breaking in anywhere, and the road isn’t unsafe. I just put those signs there to stop other people from getting in. I sometimes come here to hunt, and I’d rather not be disturbed. You don’t have to worry, I promise.”

  Oh right, hunting. Normal.

  “Oh, I wasn’t—”

  “Elle. Even without the necklace, I can sense it.”

  My excuses and questions all die in my throat as I look out the window, not wanting him to see the light blush that’s taken over my cheeks.

  He’s beginning to know me better than I know myself at this rate.

  My embarrassed thoughts stop filling my head as a lake house comes into view, the trees twisting around it almost in camouflage as though it’s been here for hundreds of years. We drive past it and around the side before parking up, leaves crunching underneath the car.

  I try to hold my worry down as we get out of the car, my eyes not leaving the cabin, which now seems so daunting standing on its own.

  Did he expect . . . are we going to be in there? Alone?

  My heartbeat picks up as I take a step towards it before Trent’s voice calls to me from the opposite direction.

  “Are you coming?”

  He’s standing at a small gap in the bushes, one which I didn’t see before. When I motion to the cabin, he laughs and shakes his head, nodding for me to follow him.

  Oh, thank god.

  I quickly jog after him and he holds the branches out the way for me as I pass through the hedge, making sure twigs don’t catch onto my new favourite item of clothing. When I break out from the other side, it’s like the breath has been sucked from my lungs.

  The lake in front of us is beautiful, sparkling in the setting sun. The hills on either side seem to reach up into the sky, and the water stretches out as far as the eye can see. There’s nothing around us but silence, and a boat floating gently by a small dock.

  “Do you like it?”

  I jump slightly, almost forgetting that Trent is behind me. I’m too caught up in the beauty of the place and the warm feeling that it creates in me.

  “It’s so beautiful, it’s like a dream.”

  The grin on his face is immediate, the relief shining on his cheeks, glowing. As if he had any reason to think this would disappoint.

  It’s only now I see the basket in his hand and something rolled up under his armpit.

  “Okay, perfect,” he mumbles, walking over to a flat patch of grass beside the water where he rolls out a blanket and sets down the basket on top, brushing it as I slowly walk over.

  “Trent.” I grin, watching him take out tubs of food. “Is this a picnic?”

  He freezes and spins around, a wince following as he scratches the back of his head. “It is. Is that really lame?”

  I giggle and kneel down beside him, helping him take the items out of the basket and unpack them. “A little,”
I tease, setting sandwiches down with the rest of the food. “But I like it.”

  We sit and eat our food, watching the sun go down together. We mostly laugh at how bad some of the sandwiches are as a result of Cole making them, but enjoying them nonetheless.

  “If I’m ill tomorrow, I am blaming your best friend,” I warn Trent while looking around the plates of food. “He will suffer.”

  All evening, a feeling of anticipation has sat in my stomach, knotting together repeatedly every time Trent so much as looks at me or our fingers brush. I have constantly been sitting at a solid six all night, like a smouldering fire waiting to be lit.

  Trent chuckles from beside me and holds something out, stopping my scan of the blanket.

  “How about something healthy then, to even it out?”

  In his fingers is a strawberry, big enough to not look dwarfed in his large hands and a juicy red colour. He motions for me to take it and my mouth waters, although I don’t quite know if it’s just from the fruit or not.

  I know he means for me to take it out of his hand, but without even thinking, I lean forward and take a bite of the soft fruit as a sound of satisfaction leaving my lips as I taste it.

  Realising what I’ve done, I timidly look up at him, swallowing my nerves along with the bite as his eyes watch me.

  Or well, more my mouth specifically.

  His finger gently wipes the side of my mouth where I can feel a drop of juice sliding, and he brings it to his lips, sucking his thumb gently.

  My gasp is audible to both of us. It seems to snap us out of our trance, my nerves getting the better of me.

  But I want to kiss him, and I want to touch him. It’s just my head that seems to have it’s reserves whether I like it or not. Like I still need reassurance.

  “There is dessert,” Trent coughs, breaking the tension around us. I laugh lightly, rubbing my stomach.

  “I don’t know if I could eat another bite.”

  I’m not sure what I’m going to see when I look over at Trent—maybe a cake or some mushed-up dessert that our chef for the night has tried to create, but it’s as if someone has punched me in the stomach when I see the item sitting in his hands.

  “Is that—”

  He opens the box carefully, placing it in front of us. His hands shake slightly.

  Pumpkin pie.

  “I remember you said that night at the party . . . I asked Mrs. Grenway for help with the recipe before she . . . I wanted it to be perfect. I know it’s a little burnt and probably won’t be the exact same as your grandmother’s but—”

  “You made this?”

  My voice cracks as tears pool in my eyes, disbelief evident in my words as I sit, unmoving.

  “Yeah.” He looks at my shocked expression and quickly closes the box, moving it away from us. “F*ck, Elle. I’m sorry. That’s crossing a line, I shouldn’t have—”

  I cut off his worried words with my lips, half crawling across his lap to wrap my arms around his neck. The feeling of needing to be close to him is overwhelming. My heart bursts with affection at the kindness that he constantly shows me.

  How am I meant to repay him?

  “You’re not upset?” he asks, breaking us apart briefly. I quickly shake my head.

  “No, it’s the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

  His hands clutch my hips as I wrap my own in his hair. Our bodies grind together as I move closer to him, covering my mouth with his again. I wrap my legs around his waist, kicking food beside us as I scramble.

  There’s clashing around us. I feel a little bad for making a mess of his hard work, but it’s soon forgotten when a growl like sound vibrates through him and to my core. My fingers work swiftly, unbuttoning his shirt with ease. It’s only when I touch the bottom of his bare chest that his hands suddenly stop me, breaking our kiss immediately.

  “Trent?”

  “Why are you doing that?” His nostrils flare as he keeps his eyes closed, his jaw gritted as if he is in pain.

  I let out a light laugh and try to move his hands, ignoring the question and the way it makes my spine straighten.

  “Elle.” His voice stills me, the rush of heat leaving as I stop trying to undress him. “You don’t need to prove anything.”

  Shock. That’s what I feel—shock and realisation.

  My immediate reaction to him doing something nice for me, something that I can’t even begin to comprehend because it’s so thoughtful, is to try and please him.

  Is this how I’m conditioned? Oh god.

  Disgust flits through me as I try to pull away from Trent, recoiling into my own ball of self-hatred at the knowledge.

  “Hey, hey,” he says softly, pulling me back to him. He brings his hand around to make me face him. “You don’t have to do that with me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I gasp out. He quickly hushes me, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips that seems to melt away the darkness that I’m beginning to wrap myself in.

  “You don’t need to apologise. I want to do . . . everything with you and would happily have continued right now.” He lets out an almost comically long breath. “Goddess knows I would have happily continued right now.”

  I punch his arm at the grin he gives me, my cheeks flushing at the thought.

  “However . . .” He lowers his voice, stopping my movements as he tucks away a piece of hair from my face. “It needs to be because you want it, not because you feel like you owe it to me, mia dea.”

  There’s no use in lying to him, no reason to even try and hide the truth because he’s figured it out before I even realised myself.

  “You did make quite a mess in your attack though.”

  I gasp and shove him gently, pushing myself away as I laugh and try to avoid the carnage of spilled food around us. There’s relief in me when I see that the pie is unharmed and untouched, a safe distance away from the crushed items.

  “Well, at least the pie is fine.”

  He laughs at my assessment and picks it up, putting it back into the basket along with a couple of the containers that aren’t ruined.

  “How about we save it for later? Right now, there’s something else I want to show you.” He stands up and brushes the crumbs off him before holding his hand out to me, the excited grin on his face almost making him look his age for the first time. I quickly stand up, accepting his help. Our fingers intertwine as he pulls me down towards the water, picking up another blanket from beside us as we head to the dock.

  “Isn’t it a bit late to go out on the water?” I ask, giggling as I watch him try to carefully step into the boat as it rocks at his weight, his arms spread out beside him.

  Clearly, balance isn’t something all werewolves are gifted with then?

  “Just trust me, come on,” he insists, holding his hand out to me as it lightly shakes.

  I sigh but do as he asks, shrieking as I step on to the rocking vessel and stumble, falling into him as I do. For a moment, I’m scared that we’re going to plummet into the water, but he reaches over and grabs the dock, steadying us. He shuts up my laughter with his palm over my mouth and points to the other end of the boat.

  “Okay, just sit there and stay still.”

  The lake is beautiful at night; there’s no wind around us because of the high hills surrounding the area and the moon is reflecting off the water like a painting, almost sparkling as it flows. Trent carefully paddles us further out, his smile infectious as he makes me look at him the entire time, warning me to not ruin the surprise.

  This is the most at ease I have ever seen him—the mask of the leader that he constantly wore is almost completely stripped bare and the constant line of worry between his brows is gone.

  I don’t know how far into the lake we are, but Trent stops paddling, putting the ores down to one side as he motions for me to come towards him.

  “Just carefully come here and turn to face the other way.”

  Shakily, I make my way, scooting along the wood on my butt as to not rock th
e boat any more than it has already been. I settle on the space he’s guided me to. The wooden dip digs into my legs a little, but it’s worth it to sit with Trent.

  Behind us, the cabin seems to be far away, pretty much invisible due to the lack of light in any direction, but instead of being scared by it, I almost feel at ease.

  It’s only the two of us.

  “Come here, mon coeur.”

  His voice is right behind my ear—soft, gentle, and much closer than I expect; however, instead of flinching, my body leans back, already knowing that he’s going to be there to hold me. He gently wraps his arm around my waist, and I feel his chin rest on top of my shoulder as we breathe together, the peacefulness of it settling every single nerve that I have.

  “Okay, now, look up.”

  It’s as if the heavens have opened into the sky above us. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. The sky is filled with so many stars that I’m at a loss for words, the clarity of them breathtaking. It’s as if someone has spilled a tub of glitter into the sky, the beauty of it almost out of this world. It’s barely believable.

  “Trent, this is . . .” My mouth closes over all the words I can possibly think of, none of them seeming to be good enough to fit.

  “I know.”

  We lie in silence for a while, just staring up at the sky and the endless stars in it, in awe of the moment. Trent’s fingers softly trailing up and down my arm, the goose bumps on my skin seeming almost normal to me now.

  He must notice the slight shiver in my body and reaches forward, dragging the blanket he brought over the two of us. I curl it up and under my chin, not wanting to get cold and have to finish this beautiful night. Trent watches before reaching over me and tucking it into the sides of our legs, making sure I’m as close to him as possible.

  “Do you still come out here a lot?” I ask quietly, noticing the discoloured wood on the boat and remembering the overgrown bushes around the property.

  Trent’s fingers still and his legs tense, his heartbeat beginning to pound on my back as he leans us back.

  When I think about it, I don’t really know a lot about Trent. He’s always so focused on looking after me, and I’m too busy wrapped up in my own issues to ever really ask about his life. Maybe he’ll start opening up to me now? It seems difficult for him.

 

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