Chapter Nineteen
Brooke
I don’t think I’ve ever felt so many emotions in one day.
Not sure I’ve ever bought so many clothes either, but Trent won’t deny me anything. Even stuff I’m unsure about he insists I get.
“Retail therapy is the best therapy,” he chimes in every time I look doubtful.
I do get a bunch of stuff, I tell myself I need though, like new shoes and especially underwear.
Not something I can always go to dad for money to buy, it’s embarrassing.
But with Trent at the helm, he takes a very special interest in my undergarments, and I have to say I’ve never felt so spoiled or so special.
Wearing a properly fitted bra, that’s actually made by designers who only make bras? It’s the best feeling in the whole world.
Second best feeling.
The best feeling is no bra, with my chest in Trent’s mouth, but new undies were at the top of my shopping list, and Trent’s just as pleased as I am by the time we’re done.
“We can go shopping anytime, or you can order whatever you need in,” he keeps reminding me, and I think he’s maybe hinting it’s enough for one day, but he’s only reminding me that all of this is real.
It’s my new normal.
“In fact, I think we should go underwear shopping much more often,” he adds with a grin, and I know he’s expecting the show I couldn’t give him in the store once we get home.
Home.
It feels weird to even say it like that, but anywhere with Trent feels like home now.
I couldn’t go back and try to live like I was before Trent, and I know it would only be an hour or two before he found a reason to come get me anyway.
Here by his side is where I belong now, and as he said himself, it’s not like he’s holding me prisoner or anything.
If I need to go somewhere I know I can, or if it really doesn’t work out, I can at least say we gave it a shot, but I know deep in my soul we were meant to be.
Pulling up to his building again, this time coming in through the underground garage, I don’t have to struggle with the idea of calling this place home.
I love it. I love the neighborhood, the building, the apartment, and the views.
Most of all I’m with the man I love.
I don’t have a problem with the idea of Trent as my man, forever too, not just some weekend fling.
Like the kind, dad must be having.
It’s a painful thought, but it keeps rearing its head. Even while we shopped and had lunch, I know Trent caught me zoning off a few times, looking around or even worrying about my dad.
Like I’m some naughty little girl doing something she knows she shouldn’t.
I feel naughty alright, but certainly not like a little girl anymore. Trent’s seen to that. It’s just the knowledge of how hard it’s gonna hit my dad that worries me.
And in his own way, as much as he wouldn’t say or show it, I know Trent must be a little concerned for his old friend too. Since finding out my whole story. About my mom, Trent seems to have eased up on his attitude towards my dad more than just a little.
And like a true gentleman, he doesn’t mention it at all after seeing him at the restaurant.
He helps me carry just some of the bags and boxes from our shopping trip into the elevator, reminding me to remind him that we can expect the rest to be delivered Monday.
“You didn’t get yourself anything,” I tell him once we’re home, at last, suddenly realizing this whole afternoon has been all about me.
I want to get him something. A way to say thank you, for everything and I tell him so.
“You already have, Brook. You already have.” He smiles, reaching over for me, and pulling me close before kissing me so deep I forget about clothes, houses, and everything.
The world always seems to disappear in his arms, under his magic touch.
“I just wish there was something I could do, a way I could contribute,” I murmur, wracking my brain, trying to think of how I can do something to make today special for Trent.
How I can show him just how much I care.
“I’ll make us both dinner,” I decide aloud. Knowing its hours off and it’ll give me plenty of time to come up with something.
I know Trent likes to eat, so I’ll make him a special dinner, and then we can go over some of that lingerie he bought for me this afternoon.
“Anything you want,” he agrees when I tell him, his deep voice rippling through my whole body as he hugs me. Telling me he loves me again and making me think maybe I should’ve just suggested a whole day in bed together.