Nothing But Love: A Different Kind of Love Novella

by Liz Durano

  Nothing But Love

  A Different Kind of Love Novella

  Liz Durano

  Copyright © 2020

  1st Digital Edition.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  02092020

  Contents

  Dear Readers

  1. Alma

  2. Sawyer

  3. Caitlin

  4. Campbell

  5. Jordan

  6. Addison

  7. Dax

  8. Harlow

  9. Benny

  10. Sarah

  Afterword

  Other Books by Liz Durano

  About the Author

  To anyone who needs a bit of love and light right now

  Dear Readers,

  Thank you for joining me here again. This book starts four years after the events of Everything She Ever Wanted, three years after Falling for Jordan, two years after Breaking the Rules, and one year after Every Breath.

  I hope you enjoy visiting with Dax and the gang again.

  Much love,

  Liz

  P.S. Some stories have a high heat rating so please keep this in mind when reading.

  1

  Alma

  Until five days ago, I’d never been on a private plane before. Well, as of today, I’ve been on one twice and since I probably won’t be on another one again soon, I might as well take another selfie while I’m at it.

  “Is that going on your Instagram?” Harlow asks as I put away my phone.

  “Probably.” I lean across the table and show her the picture. The photo features half of my face in the foreground and behind me the plane interior in detail. Since we’re the only two passengers, the rest of the seats behind me are empty. Some days I still pinch myself just to make sure I’m not dreaming all this.

  “That’s a great shot. You should post it,” Harlow says as I pull up my social media apps.

  Three seconds later, I turn it off and tuck it back into my backpack. “On second thought, I need to think of a caption before I can post it and right now, I’ve got nothing.”

  After the week we’ve had, it’s a miracle I can think straight. There were meetings with literary agents, publishing representatives, and lawyers, trips to see the sights that Harlow insisted I had to see on my first visit to the Big Apple followed by more meetings with publishing people. And now we’re here, flying back to Taos in a private plane acting like it’s a normal day.

  “I love your captions on all your posts, Al,” Harlow is saying when I force myself back to the present. “Well thought out every time and just so sweet. So you.”

  “Thanks,” I say, amazed that I haven’t felt my ears pop from the pressure yet. Maybe it’s one of the benefits of flying private. Or maybe I’ve been too busy to notice. “I posted a few times already.”

  “I could never get the hang of social media. I’d rather see what everyone is posting than show my world to everyone.” She pauses. “Not that everyone already got a look at it years ago.”

  That would be when she first met Dax and she became the favorite fodder for a Hamptons society paper. That was before I met Harlow though so I don’t know much about it, nor do I want to rehash it. “True, but the difference would be like night and day.”

  “Something I’d rather keep private,” Harlow says as I look out the window, clouds obscuring the view of the ground below.

  “Have you thought about your next step?” I ask and Harlow turns to face me, her brow furrowed.

  “About retiring, you mean? Officially?”

  I nod. “You’ve been talking about it for some time now, but you never made it official.”

  She sighs. “Yeah. I have stepped back from it and taken on a more administrative role. But I have to make a final decision. I can’t straddle that line forever.”

  “Aren’t you happy at the Pearl?”

  “Very.”

  “Then what’s stopping you?” I ask.

  “Probably just ego,” she replies, shrugging. “There’s something about being addressed as Doctor everywhere you go. It’s like an ego boost.”

  “But you don’t want to do it anymore.”

  “Honestly, I enjoy being called Mrs. Drexel more than anything.” Harlow exhales as she leans back in her seat. “But that would mean closing one door permanently and I’m not ready to do that.”

  Outside the window, I can see small squares representing houses below. “I still can’t believe Daniel let us fly on his plane,” I say, needing to change the subject.

  “Our timing was perfect. Since the crew needed to return to New York after he arrived five days ago, it only made sense to be on it since that’s where we were headed, too, even if we were a day early,” Harlow says. “And now that Daniel has to fly back to New York in a few days, we get to hitch a ride back.”

  ‘Hitch a ride’ is saying it lightly. I never thought I’d ever set foot on a private plane yet here I am. Twice in five days.

  “I could get used to all this,” I say, laughing as the pilot announces that we’re getting ready to land and I make sure I fasten my seat belt. “But then, probably not if it means we have to do more of those nerve-wracking meetings again.”

  Six months after I proposed to Harlow about wanting to illustrate the funny stories I overheard her tell the children, who knew it would lead to a book deal? At first, Harlow thought it was a crazy idea—and embarrassing. After all, who would ever think of publishing a book called Mommy, Why Do I Need to Pee?

  But Harlow has a gift of distilling complex bodily functions into snippets children can understand and by then, it inspired me to put them down on paper… or my iPad at least. I’d been taking an illustration course online and needed a project to work on, anyway.

  I’m glad Harlow thought about it for a few days and figured we really had nothing to lose. Or at least, she figured she didn’t. Her reputation had already been through hell and back during her divorce and despite it all, she survived. No, she thrived. Who cares if she wrote a children’s book about peeing? If people laughed at her, then so be it. She just hated the thought of people laughing at me, too, since I’d be the one illustrating the books.

  And so here we are flying home after signing a five-book deal with a major publisher. I don’t really care about the details—that’s up to our literary agent and lawyers—but the realization that our books will be available in libraries all over the country and even during those book fairs at schools is exciting. As a student, I always loved going to book fairs, begging my mother to spare me a few dollars so I could buy a book of my own. I just never thought my books would ever end up in one.

  “I’m so glad this airport finally opened,” Harlow says as the plane starts its descent. “No need to drive to Santa Fe anymore.”

  “Daniel can fly back and forth more often now that Taos has its own airport.” It’s especially popular with visitors to the ski resorts an hour away.

  Harlow’s brow furrows. “I have a feeling he’s getting ready to retire. He’s been spending more time in Taos this year, especially after Atsa was
born.” Five-month-old Daniel “Atsa” Turner is Daniel’s fourth grandchild, born to his oldest daughter Sarah and her fiancé Benny Turner. “After so many years commuting between New York and Taos, it’ll be good for him to be in one place.”

  “He’s been widowed for a while now, right?” I ask.

  “About eight years, I think? I’m not sure but it’s close,” Harlow replies. “Pearl was his world and after she passed away, he transferred his focus to his kids. He was protective of his kids, especially Dax.” Harlow pauses, smiling faintly as if remembering something. “Daniel didn’t approve of me in the beginning. Did you know that?”

  I stare at her. “No way!”

  “I was still going through my divorce when I met Dax, and so Daniel was quite wary of me. You know, the cougar after his son, yada yada yada,” she replies, chuckling. “He told me to leave his son alone and let him live his life… or something like that.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t listen to him.”

  She smiles. “I’m glad Dax didn’t. Eventually, Daniel warmed up to me.”

  I stare at her incredulously. “Warmed up to you? Are you kidding, Harlow? He absolutely adores you.” I pause. “I wish my in-laws were like him when I was first married to Drew. Maybe I wouldn’t have been too proud to tell them what was really going on with him.”

  “His PTSD?” Harlow asks and I nod. “Are they better now? His parents?”

  “They are,” I reply. “It took some time, but things are definitely better between us. At least, they’ve stopped blaming me for Drew’s death. They adore their grandson and they love Drea just as much even if she’s Tyler’s half-sister.”

  “Funny how things work out isn’t it?” Harlow says, pausing when her phone buzzes on the table in front of her. She taps the screen and looks up at me. “Looks like Dax and Sawyer are already at the airport.”

  “What time is the lunch?” I ask. “Will I have time to go home and change?”

  “Of course! And the kids are already at the house, right?”

  I nod. “Yup. Daniel suggested Sawyer leave them at the house on the way to the airport since there were enough people around to monitor them.”

  A knowing smile creeps on Harlow’s lips. “Then that should give you time alone with your man, don’t you think? I mean, it is Valentine’s Day.”

  I can’t help but blush. I’d be lying if I tell her I didn’t even think about it but I sure have. Publishing deal or not, I miss my man something awful. “It’ll depend. What about you? Any plans?”

  “Besides the lunch at the Drexels, nothing much. Just spending time with family and friends,” she replies, grinning. “I just hope it didn’t interfere with Valentine’s day plans and all that. In fact, Dax is calling it the annual Single Awareness Day gathering. He figured with everyone getting hitched, he didn’t want the bachelors to feel left out.”

  Sawyer and Dax are waiting for us at the hangar when we emerge from the plane. The moment my feet touch the ground, I leave Harlow and rush into Sawyer’s arms. I laugh as he lifts me off the ground, spinning me around.

  “I’ve missed you so much, my earth mama,” he murmurs before lowering me back to the floor. “And have I told you just how proud I am of you?”

  “Every day,” I say as Sawyer lowers his face toward me and kisses me hungrily. The moment our lips meet, the world fades away. I cling to him, loving the way he smells and feels against me, the way he tastes as his tongue sweeps into my mouth. Some days I still wake up and wonder what I could have done in a previous life to deserve him. He’s a great father and a wonderful husband… and the sexiest man alive, if anyone ever bothered to ask my opinion.

  I pull away just as Dax and Harlow walk toward us, pushing a luggage cart containing our suitcases.

  “Ready when you guys are,” Dax says as we turn toward the door. “Heading straight to the house or…”

  “I need to change into something more comfortable,” I say. “As much as I love wearing jeans, I miss my skirts.”

  “And your cowboy boots,” Sawyer adds. It’s one thing I’ve grown to love since moving to Taos, getting to wear whatever I want. The more bohemian, the better although the cowboy boots only came when I needed something sturdier than my old sheepskin boots for the outdoors. Living off the grid means no pavements and sidewalks, just hard soil beneath your feet and sagebrush as far as the eye can see.

  We make our way to the parking lot to where Dax and Sawyer’s trucks are parked next to each other. Hard to believe I just left one of the busiest cities in the world where I saw cars parked on top of one another in parking garages that cost the same amount of money you’d pay to rent an apartment for this tiny town of just over five thousand residents.

  “See you guys there in two hours,” Harlow says as Sawyer pulls open the passenger door and puts my suitcase in the back compartment. “My friends from New York will be there, too. Addy, her husband Jordan, and his sister and her fiancee.”

  “The more the merrier,” Dax says, loading Harlow’s luggage into the back of his pickup truck as she gets in the passenger side.

  “Two hours,” Sawyer murmurs as he helps me into the passenger seat of the truck, leaning forward so his forehead touches mine. “That’s how long we got to play, my earth mama. You ready for me?”

  “Funny you should ask,” I say, giggling. “Are you ready for me?”

  Sawyer kisses the tip of my nose. “Always.”

  2

  Sawyer

  As we walk through the door, the coals from the adobe hearth lit up just hours earlier leave the Willow comfortably warm with the heady scent of piñon hanging in the air.

  Alma inhales deeply, closing her eyes. “Ah, home. Heaven.”

  “You’re my heaven.” I tackle Alma as soon as I shut the door, pressing her body against it. She smells amazing, feels amazing, her lips tasting of vanilla and oranges.

  I unbutton her blouse and push it off her shoulders, my kiss deepening. I’m hungry for her—all of her. I undo the buttons of her jeans and lower the zipper as she wriggles her hips till her jeans shimmy down to the floor. As I pull away to look at her, I catch my breath. She’s wearing a red lace bra and matching thong.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day,” she whispers as I pull off my shirt and toss it on the floor, her fingers undoing my belt. The drive from the airport took almost half an hour, something I’d forgotten to take into account. “Unfortunately, we only have an hour a half left to play.”

  I chuckle. “Fortunately, we can do a lot in an hour and a half. Never underestimate–” I’d say more—something about two horny people and all that—but Alma slides her hand over my boxer briefs and all I can do is gasp and close my eyes. I bring my mouth down on hers again, my tongue sweeping inside her mouth, tasting her.

  “You were saying?” She giggles as she pulls away, her lips swollen from my kiss.

  “I’ve missed you so much, Al. You have no idea.”

  “Now you know how I feel when you’re gone,” she says. “It’s different when you’re the one waiting.”

  “Noted.” I lift her in my arms, feeling her wrap her legs around my hips as I navigate my way through the living room. Lego pieces and picture books litter the floor. A pop-up rocket tent stands in one corner, pillows and a blanket still inside where Tyler sought privacy to read his book earlier.

  “Don’t look,” I chuckle as I make it into the bedroom and kick the door shut behind me. At least, here, the kids are off-limits during the day and so there are no errant Lego pieces to step on or toys that suddenly switch on at the slightest nudge.

  We topple onto the bed, a tangle of arms and legs as we laugh and giggle like teenagers suddenly finding themselves home alone. And in a way, we are, even if it's only been five days. With Alma being gone, each night without her beside me in our bed felt almost claustrophobic. After the kids went to bed, the nights never felt so empty. I missed her with the power of a thousand suns, craving the feel of her body next to mine, my fingers playing with
her soft hair spilling on the pillows.

  And so I stayed out of the bedroom the entire time, glad to have my brother Todd come over to help me with the kids until they went to bed and we’d sit in the living room talking until he’d back to home. Then I’d sleep on the couch, the sunrise waking me up as soon as it peeked on the horizon.

  “Next time you go away to do those meetings, we all go together,” I murmur. “It’ll be a zoo, but it’ll be better than me missing you like crazy.”

  Alma strokes my beard as she studies my face.

  “Sorry,” I mutter. “I didn’t mean to be so serious.”

  She smiles. “I was just thinking the same thing. One or two days away wasn’t so bad, but after that, I wish I were back here, in this bed with you.” She pauses and bites her lower lip. “There’s a silver lining somewhere though.”

  “What’s that?”

  She brings her hand between us again. This time she slips her hand under the waistband of my boxer briefs. “You missing me like crazy.”

  I close my eyes, loving the feel of her palm along the length of my cock. “Hmm. I like that.”

  “Only one problem.”

  I frown. “What’s that?”

  “Why are you still dressed?”

  I chuckle. “Guess we’ll have to fix that.”

  I push myself off the bed and step out of my boots. As Alma watches me, I decide to take my time, pushing my jeans down my hips first and stepping out of them and then my boxer briefs.

  “Like what you see, earth mama?”

  She bites her lip, her gaze drifting lower. “Definitely.”