Best Of My Love

by N. D. Jackson

  Table of Contents

  (Untitled)

  From the Author’s Desk

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Thanks

  It Must Be Love

  Best of my Love

  by

  N.D. Jackson

  Also by N.D. Jackson

  Mustang Prairie Novels

  Conflict of Interest

  A Little Bit In Love

  Feels Like Love

  It Must Be Love

  Rebel Girlz Novellas

  Sweet Tea & Tattoo Ink

  Mint Juleps & Moonlight Melodies

  Sazerac & Sunset Kisses

  The characters, events and places portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Text copyright © 2017 by Natasha D. Jackson

  Natasha’s Book Nook

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods without the express prior written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2017, edition 1

  From the Author’s Desk

  Writing Best of My Love has been fun and thrilling, exhausting and kind of terrifying. 2017 has been a hectic year for us with my husband transitioning to a new career and my own ‘day job’ growing more than I anticipated. So this story, which should have been published months ago, became a sort of labor of love. Being so behind schedule allowed me to give it a second and third glance, turning what was meant to be a short and fun summer novella into a full length story of second chance love.

  I admit I fell in love with Dre who may (or may not) bear some resemblance to yours truly with her sarcasm and sharp tongue. She’s different than the heroines who came before her, more of an anti-heroine, with a bit more baggage than the others. Well maybe not more than Sadie from Feels Like Love but close. I’ve been playing around with their story for quite some time, blending elements of two places that have special meaning to me, both of them in my home state of Illinois.

  So I really hope you enjoy Dre and Erick’s love story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  N.D. Jackson

  From the Author’s Desk

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Thanks

  It Must Be Love

  Chapter ONE

  To first loves, past, present & future.

  Prologue

  10 years ago

  Nervously tapping her fingers, Andrea Larson waited inside the large glass wall conference room for the meeting that would change her life to begin. This was it. If everything went the way she expected, she would have the funding she needed to get her travel website off the ground and she could go home and start her life with Erick, her boyfriend since about the age of eight but officially since the summer they turned fifteen. They had it all planned out, even picked out the space they would rent until people felt comfortable enough planning and booking their adventures online. They would work, with her taking the helm to help Erick open his first restaurant. And in her hometown of Emerald Creek they would get a good deal on the property. Erick would work the people end of the business and she would do what she did best. Computers. Dre could code and design with the best of them. No better than the best.

  She’d completed the last final of her college career just three days ago and when the time came she would hang the diploma on her office wall because, for some reason that impressed the hell out of people. Not her, but some people.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a perky blonde in an electric blue suit that fit like it had been made especially for her. “Hi Ms. Larson, the big bosses are running slightly off schedule but they should be here in about fifteen minutes. Can I get you anything?”

  Dre nodded at the woman, wishing she had that kind of effortless beauty. “Sure. I think I’ll take that water now if its no trouble.”

  “None at all,” she assured her and disappeared again, nothing but the sound of her stilettos echoing in the distance.

  Pulling her sticker covered laptop from her bag on the floor, Dre opened it and typed out notes on other ideas she’d been playing with for the past few months. They had all taken a backseat to her need to obsess over every aspect of Travel Bitch because it was her one shot to have exactly the life she wanted. Almost, anyway. One person was missing from the picture perfect image in her head, but nothing would bring her mom back so she tried not to think about it for too long. This plan would allow her another part of her dream. Erick. They’d been best friends all through elementary and junior high and then something more than friends the summer before sophomore year of high school. Like your average teenagers they’d broken up and gotten back together a dozen times before graduation. But now they were rock solid, had been through four years of undergrad and three semesters of grad school. Solid and happy despite the long distance nature of their relationship.

  No more, she reminded herself with a smile as his handsome face, shaded by a Cubs baseball cap appeared on her screen. “Hey you’ve got great timing. The big wigs are late so I’m just sitting here. Waiting.” Talking to Erick always improved her mood, relaxed her anxiety and stress. “Otherwise you would have missed me.”

  “I always miss you Dre,” he told her with a smile but she noticed the smile didn’t reach his ocean blue eyes and she’d heard the catch in his voice he tried to hide.

  “What’s going on?” Suddenly everything shifted to serious and a sinking sensation settled in her stomach.

  Erick sighed and raked a hand through his flop of caramel waves. “A few months ago we had a party after Vista closed,” he told her about the restaurant he’d started working at right out of culinary school. “There was this girl, Calista and things got out of hand. It didn’t mean anything Dre but, we had sex. One time.” Because that made it better.

  She heard the words before he spoke them. Erick, her Erick had betrayed her in the worst way imaginable. He knew about her past and how it had affected her but he’d gone and done it anyway. Bastard. “You had sex,” she parroted back to him wooden and stiff.

  “Yes,” he said,
anguish forcing his pitch lower like cheap bourbon. “Well she stopped into the restaurant a few days ago to tell me she’s pregnant.”

  “And?” Because she could hear that this nightmare was about to get much worse. Soon.”

  “And I asked her to marry me.”

  Because that was how you dealt with an unexpected pregnancy in the twenty-first century, she thought bitterly. But she’d gone numb and whatever else he said had fallen on deaf ears and soon his voice had faded to nothing. Male voices sounded in the distance and she willed herself to get her shit together. This was neither the time nor the place to break her decades-long crying dry spell. Dre didn’t cry, hadn’t shed a tear since the day she put her mother in the ground, and she refused to break the drought over a lying, cheating piece of crap like Erick. The former love of my life.

  Soon the Travel Co. guys filed into the room, all six of them dressed in expensive suits with equally expensive hair products and million dollar smiles. She was not impressed but Dre also knew she had a few decisions to make and she had to do it quickly. “Hey guys, who won the golf game?” She pasted on her friendly, girl next door smile.

  Christian North smiled and took the seat at the head of the table. “Honey golf is for the old folks, us young bucks play racquetball.”

  That pulled a genuine laugh from her mouth, surprising the hell out of her. “And here I heard the tough guys play rugby.”

  “And risk this handsome mug? I don’t think so.” The room erupted in obligatory chuckles before he turned back to her, his expression all business and that suited her just fine. “We love Travel Bitch. It has impressive functionality and the user interface is friendly for even the beginner techie. But the honest travel reviews of adventures big and small, and those off the beaten path is a gold mine. That aspect will draw in our most important demographic, young and with tons of disposable income.”

  His words hit her harder than they should have considering she’d heard it at least a dozen times as other VC firms tried to entice her to sell. She wouldn’t be going back to Emerald Creek now, she couldn’t, not when she knew he would likely be there. With her. It was time for a change.

  And a new plan.

  Christian leaned forward. “Dre we know you have no interest in selling but we are prepared to pay you handsomely for the site, it’s architecture. Everything.”

  And there it was, the moment when opportunity and opportunism coincided. “Just how handsome are we talking, like Brad Pitt in Mr. & Mrs. Smith all hot and manly or Johnny Depp, he’s hot and will keep the sheets warm but won’t protect you from things that go bump in the night?”

  The room was silence but Dre had gotten over the notion of embarrassment after sharing a suite with two other girls her first two years of college. Finally Christian smiled, his blue eyes glittering like the sapphires in his cuff links. “Honey we’re talking Brad Pitt in Fight Club hot,” he assured her.

  With a laugh Dre gave the men news that pulled smiles across their collectively handsome faces. “In that case we should talk numbers.”

  Christian must have channeled his inner drama queen, she thought as he jotted down a number, folded the paper and slid it across the table to her. “Try this number on for size.”

  Dre schooled her features and unfolded the sheet of paper. The number was impressive, far more than she’d expected to see at one time. But it was just a starting offer, she knew and after a comical back and forth of silent paper scraps negotiations they’d settled on a number. A number so big she could write her own ticket from now until forever. “Looks like you guys are the proud new owners of BeMyTravelBitch.com.” And she was a very wealthy woman.

  Chapter One

  “Wow,” she panted heavily, swallowing dramatically as she stared at her bronze skinned bed mate. “That. Was. Incredible,” she laughed, still surprised that the wiry man she’d chosen to take to bed this evening had been so…talented. Normally her lovers were lackluster on a good day but her photographer for this job was sex on a stick. A very big stick. Dre sat up reaching over to the night table for the long forgotten glass of wine and took a long sip. “Ahhh, better,” she smacked her lips with a grin and handed him the glass.

  He laughed, the sound was rich and smooth. “Andrea, you are truly a breath of fresh air. And so very sexy,” he leaned in to take the glass, kissing along her wrist and up her sculpted arm. Feather light kisses were slowly becoming addictive, but not as much as the way her name rolled off his tongue. “Besides, why are you so surprised. Do you not know what they say of Latin lovers?”

  Oh yeah she knew, alright but she’d gone and bedded him anyway. “I’ve heard. But you, Gustavo, are my first Latin lover so I couldn’t be sure.” She threw her naked leg over his waist letting the sheet fall down as she settled her body over his. Her small but perky breasts bared to his heated gaze. “I mean there are so many things they say,” she allowed a few drops of wine to drip down his neck, following the path with her tongue. She sat up and stared at her handsome temporary colleague, his dark espresso gaze blazing with desire for her despite the fact they had just sated themselves moments ago. Normally she didn’t sleep with her contractors but it had been a few months since she’d taken a lover and Gustavo was both hot and talented. A perfect addition for three weeks in Hawaii.

  Grabbing her breasts and kneading gently Gustavo cocked his eyebrows in amusement. “Really? What is it that they say?”

  Dre laughed, wondering who that sexy husky voice belonged to and surprised to find out it was her. She didn’t normally get all giggly and coquettish with her lovers but this one was a damn good time. He knew he was talented but didn’t take himself too seriously. “Well you know,” she said trailing her fingers down his toned and tanned torso. “They say black guys are big,” her hands stood more than a foot apart, “and they say French guys are the best at oral,” she bit her lip and shivered slightly thinking of how his lips and tongue had brought on a powerful orgasm that would definitely go into the spank bank, “and they say Russians are the best at foreplay.”

  Gustavo laughed loudly before flipping their positions so quickly she wasn’t even sure it happened until she found herself looking up into smiling coffee eyes. “Then I must endeavor to prove that Latin men are the best of all!” He laughed and dipped his head, capturing her mouth in an intense kiss that immediately turned her legs to pudding and soaked her thighs. Taking her bottom lip between his teeth and grinding into her, Gustavo groaned from the back of his throat and moved down to pull a dark berry nipple into his lush mouth. “Your breasts are glorious Andrea, I could photograph them until forever.”

  Dre groaned inwardly. Why do they always start talking forever after a few orgasms? She tried to shake off his sickeningly sweet words, knowing they were just the flowery way in which he spoke and she tried to refocus on the current of electricity rushing from her worked over nipples and radiating throughout the rest of her sensitized body. “Shut up and prove that photographers do it best,” she laughed, wrapping her legs around his muscled hips and squeezing until his erection pressed against her eager, dripping core.

  One hour and two more adventurous sessions later Dre sat at her desk, making a list of all the amenities she’d taken advantage of—and photographed and videoed—so far. She was grateful for this new project completely revamping the website for the grand reopening of a luxury resort. It allowed her a free ocean side bungalow and access to any and all features that struck her fancy. All she had to do was create 3-D tours on the website so guests could be wowed into upgrading to the suites and bungalows. Making a list for herself and one for Gustavo, Dre blew out a frustrated breath. She’d done it again.

  Dammit, she scolded herself. What was I thinking besides who would give me the quickest and most satisfying orgasm? It was true, she never brought men back to her living space, her sanctuary. Not even when she was on the road, which she was a lot since her company, Red Rock Designs, had taken off. Before Hawaii she stayed in Texas for two weeks creating
a website complete with online ordering for a regional pizza palace and before that Ottawa for a maple syrup beer start up looking to expand into the rest of North America. In the last six months Dre had spent a total of 10 days in her Los Angeles loft, in her own bed. Enjoying her own shower.

  That loneliness was probably why she’d allowed Gustavo to stay without a second thought. She knew when he’d stopped by to pick up the itinerary and talk about the final week of work that she would finally have him. In her bed. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t deny that the loneliness had started to get to her. It was just a slip, she tried to assure herself. “It won’t happen again,” she muttered, turning her attention back to setting up the plan for her final week in Kauai.

  The buzz of her cell phone startled her in the dimly lit office area but she reached for it anyway and answered with her trademark brusqueness. “This is Dre.”

  “Andrea it’s your father.”

  She remained silent but her gaze slid to the calendar on her tablet. It wasn’t time for them to speak, not for months in fact. They never spoke, mostly because she never answered his calls and only bothered to call him once a year. On the day her mother died and he wasn’t there for either of them. “Okay.”

  He sighed, frustration warring with whatever reason he had for calling. “Shayna’s been hurt, real bad. She’s in the hospital and will be for a while it looks like. JT beat her up. The doctors are working on her now.”

  Shit. Dre knew he was no good but her best friend insisted he was a good man despite all evidence to the contrary. And a good father. What a joke. “I’ll get there when I can. Thanks for the call.”

  “Andrea wait. You are her emergency contact and power of attorney.”

  She understood what he wasn’t saying. “Give the doctor my cell number and video chat info. I’m going to see how quickly I can get a flight back to the mainland but I’ll be reachable to answer questions.”