Nothing But Love: A Different Kind of Love Novella

by Liz Durano

  “I do. I just hate that I didn’t come up with the idea,” she says, looking up at the ceiling that’s painted with clouds. “I should have thought of something like this to add to the itinerary.”

  I almost tell Addison I’m glad she didn’t because it means she would have executed the plan with the most efficient accuracy, directing each couple wherever they needed to go while probably forgetting the whole reason for the massages—to relax.

  But that’s my wife for you, a total control freak if you let her. Driven by her mother's expectation to be the best at everything she put her mind into, Addison has transferred that same energy into her work as a nephrologist. Although she and Harlow are still business partners, Addison is now the main physician at the clinic they started after Harlow permanently moved to Taos. Harlow only flies to New York for meetings that have to do with the company's expansion into dialysis centers.

  They've since hired two other doctors, but that hasn't meant Addison has a lighter load. As the main clinician she still works a lot of long hours and I've had to cut back my schedule at my father's company so I can be there for our three-year-old daughter. Sure, we have both sets of grandparents helping out, but I love taking Piper to the park every afternoon and at the library every Wednesday and Friday morning for story hour.

  This trip is the first time we’ve been away from our daughter since our honeymoon last year to Ireland. But unlike our honeymoon, Addison hasn’t been able to put down her iPad since we arrived. When she’s not reviewing the itinerary or going through pictures she’s taken, she’s checking emails and working. She's never been this obsessive about the clinic, at least, not until after some Filipino association honored her for her contributions for her work in raising awareness about diabetes and kidney health in the Filipino-American community. Her photo was in the local Filipino-American papers, social media, and everything.

  And she was a wreck the whole time it was going on because she hates being the center of attention.

  But I don’t even speak the language, Jory, she’d exclaimed when she first heard the news. All I know are the bad words.

  You know how to say I love you.

  You don’t expect me to say I love you at the gala, do you?

  I didn’t expect they’d hold a gala and everything, but it happened (there were other honorees from various fields) and Addison was amazing in it. She didn’t say, gihigugma ko ikaw, but she said salamat which means thank you in Filipino.

  But as much as Addison gets involved about things she loves—and anxious since she’s always been paranoid about any media attention—it’s also one reason why I love her. She’s smart, kind, and gorgeous. She’s just a bit on the obsessive-compulsive side with certain things.

  Like travel itineraries.

  “You planned our entire vacation, Addy. You came up with all the places and all the activities and we’ve all had a blast,” I say as the therapist working on my feet presses a sensitive point and I sigh. “The least I could do is come up with the R&R part.”

  She yawns. “True.”

  “The hot-air balloon ride alone was amazing. Cam and Cait couldn’t stop raving about it,” I continue. “And don’t forget the cranes over at that one refuge.”

  “Sandhill cranes at Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge,” Addison says and I can’t help but chuckle. Leave it to her to remember the official names of all the places we’ve visited on this trip. I know I can’t. Somehow she figured the refuge would be an interesting stop on our way to Albuquerque from White Sands National Park.

  And Addison was right. Seeing sandhill cranes streaming across one of the most beautiful sunsets I’d ever seen was definitely an experience like no other. I even finished an entire storage card taking pictures with my camera. And not just of sandhill cranes but snow geese, some kind of wild boar looking thing someone called a javelina, and a white-tailed deer.

  “After all that work as a tour guide and my navigator, you deserve a massage, love.”

  “But it will put me to sleep, Jory.”

  I chuckle. I can’t believe she’s whining. “And? Is that a bad thing?”

  “No, but it’s Valentine’s,” she says. “I should be up.”

  “Doing what?”

  “You know…”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Addison yawns. “But what if I fall asleep?”

  “Then you fall asleep.” I close my eyes as the therapist presses on another sensitive spot on my foot. I don’t even know whether such acu-points are supposed to be real or not, but they sure feel good when pressed right. “You need to relax, Addy. You’ve been going ever since we arrived here. So starting right now, you are going to relax.” When she says nothing, I add. “Now that’s an order, Doctor Rowe.”

  As I hear the rustling of sheets, I open my eyes. Addison has propped herself on her elbow and is looking at me. “And what’ll happen if I don’t?”

  I wink at her. “Then I’ll have to take matters in my own hands, but that’ll be for later.”

  “Jordan!” She sighs and settles down on the massage table. “Did you know that in the 1800s, this place was a copper mining town called Twining?”

  There goes her mind again, on overdrive. “Addy…”

  “And did you know that another word for Taos Ski Valley is vertical? So if it’s been awhile since you’ve skied, you just might need to sign up for a beginner’s class.”

  I turn to the massage therapist working on Addison. “Excuse me, but is there a button you can press on your client that’ll get her to relax? I think she needs a reset.”

  It takes some time, but it works. When we walk out of the hotel spa forty minutes later, Addison is so relaxed she’s yawning into the sleeve of her bathrobe. She’s also hungry.

  “Did we make reservations for tonight?” she asks as we step into the elevator.

  “Yup. We’ve got an hour to get dressed and make it there. Why?”

  She sighs, wrapping her arms around me and resting her head on my chest. “I know it’s Valentine’s, but I was hoping to stay in for the night. Maybe order room service or something?”

  I kiss the top of her head, her hair smelling of lavender and oranges. “That sounds like a great idea.”

  “If you hadn’t scheduled the massage, I probably might be more perky.”

  I chuckle. “Oh really? I don’t think I’ll have any problems getting you perky again. Well, unless you fall asleep of something.”

  She yawns. “I just might.”

  “I think I may have seen tiramisu in their dessert menu.”

  Addison lifts her head, grinning as the elevator doors slide open. She looks adorable in her fluffy hotel robe and matching fluffy slippers, her hair tied in a loose bun on top of her head. “Can we order two?”

  “Of course.”

  Inside the room, I cancel our reservations and place our order for room service. I change into a heather gray pullover and jeans while Addison dials my parents who have Piper for the evening. Settling on the couch, we chat with them and our little girl on FaceTime as she tells us all about circle time at preschool where she spends four hours each weekday, playing with sparkly pink slime and wanting to be a mermaid. That last part happens when you take your daughter for swimming lessons every week and one day, there’s a mermaid practicing in the pool who then shows all the kids her iridescent mermaid tail.

  Our dinner is brought up half an hour later. As I get up from the couch to open the door, Addison takes the phone and goes to the bedroom to finish saying good night to Piper. It gives me enough time to set the table by the window, arrange the single red rose in its vase, light the candles, and pour the wine. Just because we’re staying in for Valentine’s Day doesn’t mean we don’t get to have a bit of romance.

  It’s one thing we keep up despite our busy schedules. Date nights. Flowers. Freshly baked cookies. Little things that aren’t so little in the grand scheme of things although there is one thing that we’ve yet to do or discuss doing, at
least, one more time.

  Addison emerges from the bedroom wearing a cute red thermal top and coordinating lounge pants with hearts all over it. Her hair is down this time, brown locks framing her face. Four years after I saw her in that bar and allowed her to convince me to sing Sonny and Cher’s I Got You Babe with her, she has changed little. She’s as beautiful as I remember her, with her brilliant mind and quirky sense of humor.

  “Oh wow! You set up the table already.” Addison stops just outside the bedroom door and looks behind her. “What are you looking at?”

  “You.”

  “But I don’t have any makeup on,” she says, blushing. “And I’m wearing PJs.”

  I walk toward her, tilting her chin with my finger so she’s looking up at me. “With or without makeup—or PJs—I only have eyes for you and only you.”

  “That makes two of us,” she says, smiling a smile that tells me she’s uncomfortable with the attention, even from me. She always has, as if unable to believe in all her forty years that she’s beautiful, having focused all her energy toward books when she was a child and then her education as she got older.

  I lower my head and kiss her softly. I could take her right here, dinner be damned. But dinner is part of tonight’s plan for us to wind down and just enjoy the evening. No more itineraries to follow for the night, nothing for her to schedule and obsess over. There’s just us.

  But first, dinner.

  I pull away and take Addison’s hand, bringing it to my lips. “Dinner is ready.”

  She giggles. “For a moment there, I thought you were dinner.”

  “It still can be.”

  She stands on her tiptoes and kisses me, our lips brushing softly. Then she pulls away, mischief written in her eyes. “Tempting. But I don’t want to miss my tiramisu.”

  As I pull her to me, her breasts press against my chest. No bra. “Good point. And from my experience, denying you your dessert can be costly.”

  “I’m also not the only one who’s hungry,” she says when my stomach rumbles and she laughs, takes my hand and leads me to the table. “Come on, big guy, let’s eat. Because with all the sugar I’ll be having, you’re going to need all your energy tonight.”

  Addison only eats one of the tiramisu desserts after dinner, choosing to save the other one for tomorrow… or maybe in a few hours, who knows? Given how seldom she rewards herself with dessert or junk food (constantly practicing what she preaches about diabetes and kidney health), she can have that second tiramisu anytime she wants.

  After clearing up the table and leaving the room service cart in the hallway outside our door, Addison and I cuddle on the couch in front of the TV. We channel surf as we sip our wine, searching for a movie we can agree on. No sappy romances for me but no action-packed movies for her either. We finally settle for one that looks Valentine-worthy, Four Weddings and a Funeral.

  “Wow, Hugh Grant really was really hot back then,” Addison says as she props up a throw pillow on the armrest and positions herself so her legs are resting on my lap.

  “Andie MacDowell was absolutely hot in this one,” I say. “She’s also the older woman.”

  “Was she? Or was she American?” Addison asks as the opening scene plays. Grant’s character Charles wakes up to discover he’s running late to his best friend’s wedding and the dialogue between them comprises just one word repeated many times.

  “I don’t know.” I shrug. “I just thought she was the hot older woman who took the initiative.”

  “You like older women who take the initiative, don’t you?”

  “You know I do.”

  Addison sets her glass on the coffee table. “I did take the initiative the night we met, didn’t I?”

  “You sure did. In the rain, no less,” I murmur as she shifts her position on the couch and straddles me. “You were quite wet.”

  Addison bites her lower lip as she rests her arms on my shoulder. “I was, wasn’t I? That’s when I told you I was about to do something I’d never done before.”

  She draws closer, her fingers tracing my ear. I like it when Addison is bold like this, not worried whether anyone is watching or paying attention. It’s when she lets herself be the boss in the bedroom. But only to a point, which is how I like it. It’s a push and pull between us, a give and take.

  “And what was that?” Our mouths are so close but she’s holding back, teasing me with the promise of a kiss.

  “A one-night stand with a gorgeous stranger who made me think naughty thoughts all night.”

  “What kind of naughty thoughts?”

  Addison doesn’t answer right away. Instead, her expression turns serious, as if another thought just came to her. That’s how her brain works sometimes. One second she’s talking about something and the next minute, she talks about some new thought out of left field. Still good ideas, but it’s enough to give me whiplash sometimes.

  “What kind of naughty thoughts, Dr. Rowe?” I prod.

  “Jory, I want to have another baby.”

  Her answer catches me by surprise. “A baby?”

  Addison bites her lower lip. “Piper is three, and it’s the perfect age for her to have a brother or a sister, don’t you think?”

  I don’t answer right away. Of course, I’d like to have another one, and we’ve discussed it a few times. But with Addison transitioning to running the medical practice full time after Harlow basically retired left her with barely any time to relax and so we’d figured we’d wait until things died down.

  Only, they haven’t.

  Instead, she and Harlow decided to invest in dialysis centers throughout the Tri-state area. I mean, it made sense. Why refer patients out to other centers when they could set up their own. And with Daniel ready to provide the funding and my dad having the connections to contractors in the area, it was an opportunity they couldn’t ignore. But it meant pushing back any attempt of us trying for that second baby.

  “I should have picked a better time to talk about this,” Addison says, sighing. “I should have waited till we flew back home.”

  “This is the perfect time to talk about this.” I clasp her hands between mine. “Addy, talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “I was watching Harlow today and I can see why she gave up medicine,” she says. “And while I’m not going to quit being a doctor, I don’t have to own every dialysis center in the city. I want to be home with my family, too.”

  “Who’ll be running the dialysis centers?”

  “We’ll have a main office handle the staffing and the medical billing,” she replies. “That way, I get to continue seeing patients.”

  “Will you have a more normal schedule after the dialysis centers are set up?”

  “I will,” she replies. “That’s why I figured it’s the perfect time to start working on having another one. I mean, don’t you want another one, Jory? A baby brother or sister for Piper?”

  I run my fingers through her hair, letting my hand drift lower to caress her back before cupping her ass. “You know I do. But with your busy schedule the last two years, I needed us to be on the same page with this.”

  “Are we on the same page now?” she asks as I nod.

  “Yeah.” I press my lips against hers, feeling her mouth open for me and allowing my tongue inside. “How many sessions do you recommend?”

  She giggles. “Do you really need a number?”

  “Ballpark figure?”

  “At least five times a week,” she whispers between kisses. “Seven to be sure. Once a day. Maybe even twice.”

  “Like bunnies.”

  Addison chuckles. “Yes, like bunnies.”

  “When do you think we should start?”

  “Right now is highly recommended. And the more often, the better.” Addison slides off my lap and stands up, pulling my hand. “Doctor’s orders.”

  6

  Addison

  One minute I’m pulling Jordan from the couch and the next, I’m slung over his shoulder
s, shrieking with laughter as he carries me to the bedroom and deposits me on the bed. This is what I love about the man I married. He’s my gentle giant who makes me forget I’m a thirty-seven-year-old woman whose ass is starting to sag.

  But Jordan loves me, sagging ass and all, and he’s the best father I could ever want for Piper. He’s really there for her, taking her to the park on his days off and to the library for StoryTime. He knows how to make her favorite foods like Mac and cheese and root fries. He even has tea with her and her dolls and knows all the lines to her favorite cartoons.

  It’s time for me to do the same, spend more time with my daughter and soon, her younger brother and sister, should we be lucky to have another one. Heaven knows I’ve pushed it off all this time but seeing Harlow, Sarah, and Alma with their children really drove it home. I want the same thing for me, too. It will take some sacrifices and I’m ready to let things go. Success, recognition… even that reputation I clung to at all costs once upon a time.

  Children grow up too fast and I don’t want Piper to remember me as the mother who hardly ever had the time for her because she was too busy being successful.

  I’m successful already. I have a gorgeous family and a state career. I have loving friends and in-laws who treat me like their own daughter. And I have the sexiest husband who’s currently tugging my PJs off my hips and kissing the exposed skin as he goes. Waist, belly button, my sensitive hip bones…

  “I love you, Jory.”

  Jordan looks up, moving up my body so his face is in line with mine. “I love you, Addy.”

  He studies my face for a few moments before kissing me, his tongue sliding past my lips. He’s more demanding now, the time for words gone. At least, not the ones that have me thinking too much.

  No, this time my mouth is too busy for my mind to process anything else. All I can think of is the fluttering in my belly, butterflies coming to life, lifting, soaring. My mouth simply opens to him, inviting him in as our tongues swirl and dance together. Tasting, savoring, claiming.