by Liz Durano
“The time difference will be interesting. I think they’re about 18 hours ahead.”
“So?” She laughs. “I’ve got a full schedule next week anyway. Between doctor visits for Ty and me, play dates with Harlow and the twins, and activities at the library, I’ll be busy. I also need to work on my social media accounts and plan out my posts, so yeah… I will be busy.”
“You sure?”
“Sawyer, don’t use me as an excuse to play hooky. Work is work,” she says as Tyler brings a lock of hair to his mouth. “Oh, no, you don’t, little man.” She pulls away and sets Tyler down on the floor next to his push toys.
I clear my throat. “Would you want me to stay tonight?”
Alma shakes her head. “No, enjoy your guys’ night. Have fun and stop worrying about me, Sawyer. I’ll be fine.”
But as soon as the words leave her lips, I know I won’t stop worrying, not when I realize that Kevin’s still in town and could easily come back. But I also can’t smother her like I already am. “Lock your doors and don’t let anyone in for me.”
She gives me quick kiss on the lips. “I lived in California for years, Sawyer. Of course, I’m going to lock everything. Old habits die hard.”
14
Sawyer
It’s 0600 Hong Kong time when my phone rings but I’m expecting it. That means it’s about 1600 in Taos or 4 PM. I’m in the middle of knotting my tie but I let go of the ends and prop up the phone on the coffee table in front of me. Like an addict in need for the next high, I’ve been waiting for mine.
“Oh, my, you look delicious!” Alma’s voice fills my quiet hotel room with her happiness. “I just love seeing a man in a suit. It just does something to me.”
“Really? In that case, take your fill, Al.” I take a step back so she can take it all in. Fuck, I might even be blushing but I don’t care. I finish knotting my tie and adjusting it until it’s perfect. Although my suit is tailored so I can actually move in it in case something happens, it’s my shoes that betray my job as part of my friend Heath Kheiron’s security detail. They’re too sensible.
“How are things over there?” she asks, propping Tyler on her lap.
“Boring, which happens to be way better than not boring. You?”
“It rained earlier today. Like, the clouds just hovered and let it rip. And then it went away,” she replies. “It’s weird but that means more water for the reservoirs, right?”
“Right.” The Willow’s reservoirs are located behind the house, concealed in the bermed soil that also helps insulate the structure. From there, the collected rainwater gets filtered for use in the kitchen and bathroom.
For the next ten minutes, we chat about what she’s been up to, the play dates Tyler has scheduled and her latest social media posts that talk about her life off the grid. Her enthusiasm is infectious. So is Tyler’s, who climbs down her knee and stands in front of the coffee table where Alma has propped the iPad.
He reaches his pudgy arms toward me. “Da-da! Da-da!”
It’s his latest thing, saying my name the best he can but unable to articulate the “S” just yet. I laugh as he tries to reach for the iPad again but Alma moves it from his reach. The last time he did, he ended up pressing the End Call button.
“He just got up from his nap and he’s hungry so we can’t talk long.” Alma lifts him back on her lap again. “You should wear suits more often, Mr. Villier. It does things to me you can only imagine.”
I laugh as she blows me a kiss and brings Tyler’s hand to his mouth so he blows me a kiss, too.
“Bye bye, little dude. See you guys soon,” I say before the screen goes dark. Suddenly I find myself wishing Tyler would one day call me by a different name—Daddy.
I pull out the compass Drew left me from my trouser pocket, rubbing the glass face with my thumb.
“I know we didn’t part on good terms, man, but I never gave up on you. You know that,” I mutter, turning the compass over to see Drew’s name scratched on the back in childlike script. “But I am keeping that promise you asked of me. I’m sorry it took me awhile but I’m here now… for her.”
As I slip the compass back into my pocket, I know we’re going about this fast—maybe too fast—but I’m not about to start some kind of a clock that’ll tell me if we’re going too fast or too slow. I’ve known Alma for six years. Hell, longer than most women I’ve been with and maybe I’m just more comfortable with her. I trust her. She was more than just Drew’s wife; she was also my friend.
I check my emails and stop to open one that I’ve been expecting. I could have put a rush order on it and received the results sooner but I was going to be out of town so I didn’t need to. But it’s important enough that I asked them to email me the results in addition to mailing them.
I’d gotten myself tested two days after Alma and I slept together. I wanted her to know that I was taking this seriously and that what we had wasn’t some casual fling. I already know the results but it feels good to see it in writing. I’m clean. Just because I was never into commitment didn’t mean I was irresponsible.
My phone buzzes, a reminder that I’ve got five minutes to make it to Heath’s suite next door to relieve the last guy. I slip my phone into the breast pocket of my jacket and check my reflection in the mirror. I can’t wait to get back to Taos in three days and be with Alma and Tyler again. I can’t wait to hear Ty say Da-da again.
I frown, guilt settling deep inside my chest. It’s a word I don’t deserve, not when it belongs to a man Tyler would never meet. But at the same time, I don’t have any plans on changing the narrative, that Tyler is Drew’s son and he’ll always be his son. I just hope I know Drew well enough to know that despite the way we parted that day when he mistook my concern for Alma for something else, he’d be happy knowing I’m protecting his wife and son, and that I love them with everything I’ve got.
But I want more… so much more.
Alma is standing by the front door when I park my truck in front of the Willow three days later. My flight didn’t get into Santa Fe until 8 PM and now, an hour later, the inside of the Willow is dark except for a few lights in the living room She’s standing by the door, waiting for me with a smile that brightens her beautiful features. As I emerge from my truck, a shooting star streaks across the millions of stars in the sky. If it’s a sign, I’ll take it. I’m home.
The moment I step through the front door and drop my carry-on bag on the floor, I grab her, lifting her up and spinning her around as she squeals in delight. She feels so good in my arms, her skin smelling of roses and lavender.
“Where’s Ty?” I ask as I set her down. The Willow is quiet, most of the lights set low.
“He’s asleep,” she says softly, biting her lip. “I figured a little privacy would be nice.”
I could have changed from the plane into something more comfortable, like my usual cargo pants and t-shirt. But I wanted to surprise her after she told me over a FaceTime conversation that seeing me in a suit turned her on. And from the way she’s eyeing me from head to toe like I’m tonight’s entree, it looks like it’s working.
I pull Alma to me and kiss her. The feel of her breasts pressing against my chest has my cock instantly hard, like a steel rod in my trousers. I press my hips against her and her eyes widen. Fuck, I’m so hard.
“I’ve missed you. Can’t you tell?” I growl into her neck, scooping her up and feeling her legs wrap around me as I make my way to the bedroom and hoping I don’t walk right into a damn wall. The moment we get to the bedroom, I set Alma down, still kissing her. I can’t get enough of her. She’s wearing a cute dress but she’s not too worried about me getting it off her. She’s intent on getting me out of my suit first.
“There’s nothing I love more than seeing you in a suit,” she murmurs in my ear as she loosens my tie. “That way I can take it off you, piece by piece.”
“Not yet.” I slide the straps of her dress, pulling them down her shoulders and off her body until it’s a
puddle at her feet. She’s naked underneath and I take a deep intake of breath. Holy fuck. “You’re so fucking beautiful, baby.”
I take a step back and let her undress me slowly, watching her concentrate as she starts with my coat, sliding them off my shoulders first and draping it over the edge of the bed. We continue to kiss as she works on the tie and then my shirt, marveling at my own patience. But by the time we get to my belt, my cock feels like a lead pipe in my pants and I’m done waiting.
“Get on the bed.”
Alma slides her body to the middle of the bed, watching me as I undress. When I reach for my wallet to retrieve a condom, she shakes her head. “Is it okay if we… if we don’t use that?” When I frown, she continues, “While you were away, I went to see a doctor. I mean, I had to find one anyway, now that I live here, but I’m now on the… on the Pill.”
I crawl over her on the bed. “You sure this is what you want?”
“Yes. I want to feel you inside me. You. All of you.” Alma grips my shoulders, pulling me down for a kiss. I slid my hand under her neck as my tongue slipped between her lips, relishing her taste, her warmth, knowing that soon, there’d be nothing between us. It’ll be just us. Connected. Whole.
I pull away, blazing a trail of kisses down her neck before stopping over a perky nipple, my hands now cupping each breast. She moans as I suck each one, making sure to give them equal attention. When my hand drifts lower between her legs, I find her so wet and ready for me.
As I press against her and slowly slide the head of my cock past her folds, Alma rocks her hips slightly. I pause, the head of my cock inside her tight pussy. All the years since I’ve known her as my best friend’s wife, keeping my distance, doing everything that would make her life easier while he was away—changing lightbulbs in the garage because it turned out she was afraid of heights, cleaning out the rain gutters so she didn’t have to pay someone else to do it and she’d save a bit of money, or carrying the Christmas tree inside her house so she’d have something to hang her cute handmade ornaments and not be lonely on the day when most families would be together—all that was going straight to hell. She’s never been just my best friend’s wife, she was the woman I’d secretly adored, the woman I admired, and now her son—no, their son—is calling me a name that’s not mine.
She looks up at me, her brow furrowing at my hesitation. “What’s wrong?”
I lean my forehead against hers, her voice, her words, her gaze becoming the keys that I wish could unlock the gates of time and return us back to that night at the bar. This time I’d have been the one to walk over to her and make her smile, not Drew.
“I want you, Sawyer,” she whispers, rocking her hips against me, pushing up to grind her clit against my pelvic bone as I thrust inside her, feeling her pussy clamp around my cock. With each pump of my cock inside her greedy cunt, I watch her come apart, kissing her closed lids and her half-open mouth. She wraps her legs around me, holding onto me as we both come together, her pussy squeezing and pulsing around me as the sound of her voice calling out my name fill the room. As my own release comes, I can’t see or feel anything but her. It’s as if she’s become my world.
No, she is my world.
We stay that way for a few minutes, listening to the sound of our heartbeats and looking at each other until she looks away, chuckling, her cheeks flushed. She brings her hand to her face, peeking between her fingers.
“What are you looking at, Mr. Villier?”
“You,” I murmur as she lowers her hand and I gaze at her hazel eyes. “I’m in love with you, Alma Thomas.”
I see her hesitate for a moment, her brows knitting together before she smiles. “I’m madly in love with you, too, Sawyer. You’ve made me so happy… happier than I probably deserve to be.”
“Oh, but you do deserve it, Al,” I murmur, kissing her forehead, her eyelashes, her lips. “All of it.”
15
Alma
It’s been two months since the night Sawyer returned from Hong Kong and we’ve settled into a routine. I do my thing with Tyler and build my social media presence along with preschool lessons plans for home schoolers while Sawyer’s doing workshops on sustainable building with Todd and his colleagues. It’s interesting to see him shift from one life to the other, the world off the grid, getting dirty and doing manual labor, and the other one where he gets to travel the world over as part of some billionaire’s security detail and staying in the best hotels and flying in private jets. Sawyer seems to thrive in both environments and it’s one of the things I love about him, his ability to adapt to things around him.
Some days I find myself wishing Drew had been able to do the same. And then I remind myself that I can’t compare them. As much as they were best friends, Drew and Sawyer were polar opposites. The one thing they had in common was their dedication to each other as friends. I just wish their friendship didn’t end like it did because of Drew’s PTSD.
Still, life is good out here in the high desert and some mornings I still have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. Who knows? I could still be living next to the car repair shop and I’d simply turned deaf from all the noise? But of course, I’m not. I’m here and I’m happy, and Tyler is happy, too.
I love Taos and my new home. I’m glad Sawyer doesn’t let me live rent-free—well, I’m sure he would if he had his way, but Todd isn’t about to—and it’s just the way I like it. I want to pay my own way. I’m not here to accept charity and take advantage of the brothers’ generosity. But neither am I letting them rescue me like I’m a damsel in distress. Sure, I lived in a cheap apartment next to a car repair shop for almost a year but that doesn’t mean I need to be rescued. I just needed time to think and snap out from the shock of losing Drew and being a new mother. But things are different now. They’re way better than they used to be and even if Sawyer and I aren’t spending a lot of time together, I’ve made new friends like Harlow and Dax.
I’m settling down, building roots for Tyler and me in a new place. I’ve even started blogging on a strict schedule. Apparently, there is a lot of interest of how life is like off the grid. People are actually curious and are loving the pictures I post everyday of my indoor garden, even the sagebrush. Add a baby to the mix and there’s a lot more interest in that, curiosity mostly.
Before Sawyer left for Hong Kong, he bought me a new camera, one where I could take pictures of life off the grid, edit them on the go and upload them to social media “just like a social blogger, would” he told me. Todd gave me tips on how to take pictures, how to compose them to capture the natural lighting of the high desert through the tilted windows of the Willow and even gave me a silver collapsible disk to help with the light reflection. It’s hard work to look like I’m comfortable in front of the camera but it turns out, I am.
The only people who aren’t happy with my unconventional lifestyle are Drew’s family. They don’t like seeing Tyler’s pictures or video clips on social media. They don’t understand how I could be making any money from posting parts about my life online. And no matter how much I’ve tried to explain to them that Tyler and I are really happy out here, they still insist I’ve lost it somehow and that I need professional help. For how can a rational widow simply leave everything behind in the city and become a hippie in the desert, putting her kid in danger by living off the grid?
I don’t have to tell Sawyer how they feel for he’s seen the way they talk to me whenever they call. He just can’t understand how I managed to live with that kind of behavior from them for so long. But that’s grief and guilt for you. They were my constant companions and for a year, I bought the story that because I failed Drew, this was my new life. Guilt-ridden and unable to move on.
My phone buzzes on top of the kitchen counter and I check it to find a text from Sawyer. He’s been working on a new earthship in the community, teaching new students how to start with the foundation of stacked tires filled with soil. It’s heavy work but Sawyer loves being outside. He loves
helping people realize their dreams of sustainable living and is a natural teacher.
Sawyer: I just got done working with the guys and about to hop in the shower. Are we still on for dinner?
I smile, the smell of beef Burgundy cooking in the crockpot filling the air inside the Willow.
Alma: Yup, dinner is definitely on. I miss you.
Sawyer: I miss you too. I’ll be there in 30 minutes.
Alma: Take your time. I’ll be right here.
Sawyer: Want to do some stargazing tonight?
Alma: Of course. I have the app ready to go.
Lately, Sawyer has been teaching me all about constellations. Apparently, his boss is into stars and constellations. He even taught Sawyer how to navigate the oceans with just the stars to guide him in case everything electrical on the ship goes out. He also told me the skies in Afghanistan and Iraq back when he was deployed were just as lit up as Taos on some nights. While it was a stark contrast to the reality of his deployment—that no matter how beautiful the skies were, the following morning could be your last day alive—it calms him knowing he’s the master of his fate and he has better control of his flashbacks should they come back again.
I’ve often thought about the flashback he experienced from the popped tire on the Interstate. I still remember how his face turned pale and cold sweat lined his brow. It was as if I wasn’t there, much like Drew was whenever the flashbacks came. It had scared me but I’d kept it together, praying Sawyer would have a better grip on it than Drew. And he did. He kissed me, too, and changed everything between us.
I force myself to think of back on the stars, of how I love it when the three of us lay on blankets and pillows on the floor in front of the windows, with Tyler snug between us.
