“Can I at least have a hint?” he asks me as the GPS directs us to the spot of the surprise that I booked.

“No way!” I’ve made it this long, so I’m not about to spill the beans now.

He opens his mouth to ask again, but and the GPS cuts him off with a robotic, “You’ve arrived at your final destination.” He looks around, confused.

“There’s nothing . . .” A smile stretches my lips as his eyes widen when he spots the black helicopter coming in for a landing.

“Yeah, there is.”

“What are we doing?”

I hand him his camera as I take mine and say, “Follow me, and you’ll find out.”

We get out the car just at the blades come to a halt. The door to the helicopter opens, and a younger Hawaiian guy greets us. “How’s it, guys?” the man asks.

“We’re good.”

“Are you Fallon and Parks?”

“Yes, we are.”

“I’m Keoni. We just left Kilauea, and it’s erupting. If you wanna load up, we might be able to catch it.”

Parks kisses my check before we hurry to the helicopter, clearly excited for this adventure. “There are headsets there,” he says after showing us how to buckle up.

Once we are safely buckled inside, Parks has his hand around mine, and the copter lifts from the ground. “I can’t believe you did this and didn’t tell me,” he says.

“I wanted you to get the pictures you always wanted.”

He kisses my knuckles, not paying a single ounce of attention to the scenery passing below us. His eyes are on mine, the way I love. That look, the reassurance he gives me, is what I live for.

“I love you,” he says, and I don’t think I could possibly love him more.

* * *

“Would you put your camera down for one second?” Parks has been ogling pictures for over an hour, and I’m ready to go shopping.

“These pictures are amazing, baby.”

And they are. The shots we got from overhead of the volcano erupting are unreal. I’m so thankful we got them, but it’s our last day in Hawaii, and I want to stop into some of the shops before we head to the airport. He relents and tucks the camera away before letting me drag him out of the hotel and down the sidewalk.

“You wanna go in here?” he asks when I stop in front of a small, very Hawaiian shop that is literally stuffed with floor-to-ceiling merchandise. They have packed the entire place full, taking advantage of every spot they could. My answer comes in the form of me pulling him through the door.

“Where do you even start?” he asks me, and I shake my head, not having a clue. Then I spot something that I have to have. It is a small white onesie with a lei printed around the neckline. I remove it from the rack, and Parks reads the words as I show it to him. “Aloha, Baby!”

“Isn’t it cute?”

“Yeah, for a girl. But what if it’s a boy?”

“He’d look cute in it, too. All the babies would love him in it.”

He rolls his eyes, and I hang on to it, definitely buying it, and ask, “Do you think it’s a boy?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know; I just feel that way. What about you?”

“I don’t have a feeling one way or the other. Is that strange?”

“No, not at all.” He drapes his arm over my shoulder and looks down at the onesie I’m clutching.

“So, you’re really buying this?”

“Yes!”

“All right.” He walks us to the register and pays for the item. On the way out, he checks his watch and says to me, “We need to get going.”

“Do we have to?” I complain.

“Yes, we absolutely do.”

I huff like a spoiled child not getting her way. I don’t want to go, but he opens the door to the rental car, ushering me inside without leaving me much of a choice.

“Don’t get like that,” he says, but I just pout harder, making sure to stick my lower lip out a bit more. He mumbles something to me and then closes the door.

When he gets in on the driver’s side, I ask, “What did you say?”

“That I hope it’s a boy.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t deal with you and a little girl, too much estrogen.”

“Whatever.” I slap him across the shoulder, and he flinches as if I’ve really hurt him. Like testosterone is any better?

* * *

“Wake up, baby,” Parks says to me standing at the door to his truck. It’s night out, and as I take in the sights around us, I realize we’re home.

“Did I sleep the entire drive?”

“Yup, you were snoring before we left the airport.”

“I don’t snore.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” he says mockingly. “I must’ve been hearing things.”

“Probably.” He leans in and kisses my forehead before scooping me out of the truck and cradling my body against his hard chest. “I can walk,” I tell him.

“I know you can.”

Clearly, he doesn’t want me to, and the serenity that surrounds me as he holds me like this makes me never want to walk on my own two feet again.

Parks locks the truck, the alarm beeping as we head inside. My eyes are on his face, and there is a huge grin on my lips when he glances down at me.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just admiring the view, that’s all.”

The house is dark and quiet. He flips a few lights on, and I assume he’s going to lay me on the bed, but he continues through to the bathroom, finally setting me down on the countertop.

“Why are we in here?” I ask, and he pulls his T-shirt over his head, leaning to the side to start the shower. His eyes are seductive, telling me just what he wants, and even though I’m tired, I can’t resist him . . . I never can.

“So we can shower, airplanes are germ-filled, and I don’t want my baby getting sick.”

“Oh . . . really, that’s all?” A coy smile plays over my mouth.

“Why? Do you want something else?” he asks and drops his pants. His bare, rock-hard shaft has my mouth watering.

Popping off the counter, I pull my shirt over my head and step out of my pants. When Parks sees that I haven’t been wearing anything else all day, he stalks right up to me and possessively holds me tightly in his grip. His fingers dig into my ass cheeks, and his attention isn’t on my face; it’s on my body.

“I can’t believe you were naked like this all day, and I had no clue.”

I shrug, acting as if it’s no big deal, and he lifts me off my feet. I grip on to his tight back muscles as he walks us into the shower. The water cascading down our bodies is the perfect temperature.

Parks closes the glass door, and the instant it latches, I’m helpless. He already has his cock inside me and the cold tile wall that he’s holding me against sends a shiver throughout my system.

“Fuck!” He pushes inside me so deeply that I can’t breathe around the pleasure. It courses through my body—wanting—waiting for the second that he moves.

And as he does, giving me forceful, long thrusts, I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything quite like this connection we share.

I moan each time he moves. His hands are around my ass, holding me in place, and as he works my body, the hedonism becomes too great. My grip on reality is loosening. I try to hold on to it, not wanting to let go so quickly.

However, I’m left without a choice as Parks shifts, pushing deeper, slamming me fiercely as he comes. His thrusts are so fast and so fucking good. I grip onto the back of his neck. My breathing is ragged, too fast—a million miles a minute as I fall from the world. Giving myself over to another earth-shattering orgasm that only Parks can give to me.