37. Daisy
CHAPTER 37
daisy
I smile to myself when I tap on the bedroom door down the hall from my old one. Landry emerges a few seconds later in a pair of pajama pants that are a few inches too short for him. I point to his ankles and giggle as he pulls a tight T-shirt over his head.
“Shh,” he scolds me quietly before he steps out of the room and closes the door behind him. “Your brother’s still awake, you know.”
I lift my chin tauntingly and shrug. “So? What’s he gonna do? Tell my parents that I snuck out of the house with my own husband?”
Landry smirks at me, triggering a wave of butterflies in my stomach. “Exactly what have I agreed to?”
Gah, he’s sexy, even in his ill-fitting pajamas.
Could he just play along this once and fulfill a few of my teenage girl dreams, especially the ones involving me sneaking out of my bedroom in the middle of the night to meet up with a boy who looks this good with sleep-mussed hair?
I step forward and use his shoulders to turn him around. Then I stifle a laugh at the way the flannel pants stretch awkwardly over his rear end.
“Yep, just as I suspected. Still hot.” I reach out to smack his butt, and he turns back to face me with widened eyes after he flinches and covers himself with his hands.
He glares at me strangely, his expression still amused. “What’s gotten into you tonight?”
I shrug again, trying to downplay my embarrassment. Maybe I went too far with the butt slap, but I’m feeling braver than usual, especially after basically confessing my feelings earlier today.
“I don’t know. It just … feels different now.” I pause and bite my lip, debating whether to go on. “Let’s go out and wait for the snow.”
“Daisy, it’s freezing out there.”
“I know a place where we can start a fire. And I’ve always wanted to sneak out with a boy at night.”
“A boy?” He narrows his eyes at me, but I give him my most convincing eyes and pouty lip.
“Pleeease?”
“Fine,” he says with a sigh. “But only if you put on another layer of clothes first.”
I glance down. “I’m already wearing a long-sleeved shirt.” Then I remember that I’m not wearing a bra, and it is pretty chilly, even in this hallway.
Landry clears his throat uncomfortably. “Find a hoodie, a jacket, or something, Daisy.”
By the time I look up again, he’s turned his gaze away, but I can tell he wants to check me out. And that’s good enough for me. “All right,” I say, biting back a smile. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a minute.”
He agrees, and I dart back to my room and grab the first jacket I find in the closet, as well as a throw blanket from my bed. Then I tiptoe down the stairs, scoop up my boots near the front door, and enter the kitchen to find him waiting for me, already wearing his coat and shoes. This time his eyes betray him, and I catch him glancing at my chest before I pull the sweatshirt down.
“Ready?” I ask, snatching a lighter from the junk drawer.
He nods and forces a smile, but he looks less than enthusiastic. I imagine he’s worried I’ll get too cold.
I lead him outside and through the farm to a rocky firepit at the edge of the woods. I dig the lighter out of my pocket as he gathers a few small logs nearby, and he starts a fire while I spread the small blanket on the ground for us to sit.
My teeth chatter quietly while I wait for the flames to grow. “Do you really think it’ll snow tonight?” I ask absently.
“No,” he says flatly. “At least not enough for it to stick.”
“Always a cynic,” I say, bumping his shoulder with mine. He doesn’t reply, only smiles. “I was hoping to get at least a few inches tonight.”
His eyebrows shoot up, and he bites his lip before I realize what I’ve said.
“Of snow! A few inches of snow,” I clarify.
“Right,” he agrees, smirking at me.
“So how much does my brother know about us now?”
He winces. “What makes you think we talked about you?”
“That guilty look on your face, for starters,” I say, poking him in the jaw.
“I’m sorry, I folded,” he blurts out. “I told him almost everything, including the conversation we had on the way here. But I left out the seizures you had a few months ago.”
“Oh,” I breathe. “He knows we’re married?”
“Yes. I couldn’t bring myself to lie to his face, even if I hadn’t promised you I’d tell him the truth.”
I smile, my relief outweighing my nerves now. “And what did Rowan have to say about everything?”
Landry sighs. “He said you were right, that I owe it to you to consider how I really feel. He pointed out that it would be inappropriate for us to continue living in the same house after all this. And he told me he just wants both of us to be happy.”
“Wow. That’s all really Rowan of him.”
He laughs shortly, staring into the fire. “No kidding.”
I want to prompt him to say more, especially about those feelings he can’t seem to wrap his mind around, but we sit in the cold silence for a few minutes before I work up the courage to speak again. “I know I said it already, but I’m really grateful for your gift.”
His expression softens. “It’s more for me than anyone. I don’t want to have to worry so much about you once you’re living on your own.”
I reach over and wrap my chilled fingers around his, ignoring the way he brings up moving out again. He doesn’t resist the contact, but he doesn’t seem to welcome it the way he did earlier today. “But it means you believe in me, that it’s worth the trouble of helping me because I’m actually capable of taking care of myself. That’s a much more important gift than you know.”
“You shouldn’t have to thank me for that,” he finally replies. “You’re capable of anything you set your mind to, Daisy.”
The stillness stretches between us again, the only sound being the wind blowing through the trees.
“I feel like there’s something else on your mind,” I venture. “But you’re waiting for me to invoke our full-transparency clause.”
He huffs out a short laugh. “Yeah. Same.”
“I’ve been trying to tell you what I’m thinking. You don’t seem to want to hear it,” I mutter and tug my hand back.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve been afraid.” He turns to face me, and my stomach flutters again.
“I’m afraid, too. I’m worried I’ll say the wrong thing and scare you away. But I like being your roommate, and I don’t want you to move out just yet.”
“I like living with you, too,” he says.
“Then … you should stay,” I add hesitantly.
“I can’t stay forever though.”
I swallow hard. “Can’t you?”
He laughs softly. “Not unless I want to turn you into a cynical, old grump like me.”
“Only if I don’t turn you into a cheerful and bubbly optimist first,” I retort, and he laughs again. My heart rate picks up as I push forward. “I mean it, though. Didn’t you say the other day that we pretty much had the perfect relationship, minus the physical part?”
He sighs. “I never should have said that. I’m sorry.”
“It might have hurt at little, but you were being honest. And in a way, you were right. It seems like that’s all that’s missing …” I struggle to hide the way my breathing quickens as I leave the offer hanging between us. He’s still quiet, so I turn to look at him. He’s staring at the fire, the muscles in his jaw ticking.
“Landry?”
He licks his lips. “Sorry. I’m processing.”
“Should I be more transparent?” I ask.
“I think I get it. I’m still working on my response.”
I laugh. “Would it help if I took off a few layers?”
He blows out a breath and shakes his head. “God, no. When I said ‘response,’ I really meant ‘restraint.’ ”
I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. “But you don’t need to hold back with me. I like you, Landry, as more than a friend. In fact, I think I might more than like you. And it’s not just because of all the nice things you do for me, although I admire the way you care so much. I think you’re funny, and I genuinely enjoy being with you, especially when you let your guard down. And I’m pretty sure you at least like me, too.”
“Shit,” he curses, scaring those butterflies away. “I was worried you might say something like that.”
“Worried because you don’t feel the same?” I ask, my voice thick.
He doesn’t answer right away, leaving the pops and crackles of the fire to fill the silence.
“Regardless of whether there’s something more than friendship between us, I can’t give you the things you want and deserve, like a real marriage … and babies.”
“You don’t know that. How would a real marriage be so different from what we have now?” I demand.
“I just can’t do it, Daisy. I’m too afraid of hurting you.”
“And you don’t think this hurts?”
He cringes. “I’m sorry. But I’m going to have to move out at some point, one way or another, and we both have a better chance of making it out of this unharmed if we leave things as they are.”
I shake my head. “Who says you have to move out? Rowan?”
“I do,” he replies flatly.
I use my sleeve to wipe my nose. I can’t tell whether I’ve started crying or the cold is getting to me now, but I have to force myself to stop sniffling before I can go on. “You know, you keep saying ‘it’s not you, it’s me,’ but I don’t believe you anymore. So what is it? The epilepsy? The age difference? Or is it because I’m Rowan’s sister that you can’t see a future with me?”
He closes his eyes and sighs again. “I care too much to do this with you. Just … let it go, okay?”
“No, I told you, I won’t just let it go .” I cross my arms angrily over my chest. “I have a right to the truth, and you know it.”
He groans. “It’s because I’m an asshole, and it’s only a matter of time before I really hurt you. I can’t be the man you deserve, the one who doesn’t overthink everything just to get it wrong anyway, who isn’t afraid to kiss you in public, who believes in love and marriage and all the other shit you do. Despite what you’ve fooled yourself into believing, I’m not capable of making you happy.” He turns to face me, and I swear I see tears in his eyes. “I don’t even know how to be anything less than unpleasant, and I can’t let you waste any more of your time on me.”
“You’re not an asshole, dammit,” I fire back, and he flinches. “Stop saying that. There’s nothing wrong with you, and it isn’t your fault that your friends and family didn’t get you growing up. Mine never really got me, either. Yet somehow, you do, and I get you, too. It seems like most people spend their whole lives searching for the exact thing we’ve accidentally stumbled upon, but you won’t let us be that person for one another. Why won’t you?”
“I’m trying to save you,” he says, his voice cracking. “You don’t understand what being stuck in a miserable relationship can do to someone. You haven’t seen or experienced half of the shit I’ve been through. And I could never risk making you feel that bad.”
“I understand more than you think. You just don’t trust me enough to know my own mind, even though I thought you might have been the only person who did.” He’s quiet so I continue. “And you know what? Maybe I’m not the one being naive. So your parents taught you how marriage could go badly. Mine showed me that it could be amazing. It doesn’t mean that I expect my relationships to be just like theirs, and neither should you.”
“What do you want from me, Daisy?” He turns his body to face mine. “You want me to admit that I like you? That I’m constantly having to stop myself from fantasizing about being with you for real? That I’ve never wished I was a better person as hard as I do now?” His eyes are pleading, begging me to stop. “None of that would make a difference, even if it were true.”
My heart races, and it’s hard for me to breathe. But I’m not stopping to dwell on a small bit of hope, not when I can sense how close he is to giving in completely. “I want you to actually consider whether you feel that way, and I want you to tell me the truth. Because I believe that stuff makes all the difference.”
“And what if I don’t actually feel what you want me to? What then?”
“You owe me the truth,” I repeat. “That’s all.”
“I’m not sure I can give you that right now,” he mumbles, looking away.
I inhale deeply, garnering all the courage I have left. “Sure you can. Kiss me.”
“What?” He recoils.
“You said it wasn’t unpleasant when we kissed before, but it was purely physical, nothing meaningful, because you couldn’t allow it to be anything more than that. So kiss me now, while no one’s watching, and think about what it makes you feel.”
His throat bobs as he swallows hard, and I think he’s actually considering my offer. “You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”
“Because you’re afraid you’ll feel something?”
He shakes his head. “I know I will.”
My stomach dips. “But … I thought you said?—”
“I had to protect you,” he cuts me off.
“You’re not a monster,” I say incredulously. “It’s okay for you to admit you’re attracted to me.”
He inhales. “Impulse control has never been my strong suit, Blondie.”
“So you’ve said,” I taunt him. “But I haven’t seen much of that guy yet. I’m starting to think he doesn’t exist.”
He turns and stares at me in a way that makes me think I’d be sweating, even without the fire blazing in front of us. “You really want me to kiss you, Daisy? You want me to show you what I’m like when I’m not holding back?” he asks, his tone different than before. His eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them.
“I dare you,” I whisper.
He growls as he reaches out to pull me in and captures my mouth with his, and I gasp against his lips. I instinctively reach up to clutch at his arms as he tilts his head to the side and presses his mouth against mine more forcefully, guiding me to open up for him. In one smooth motion, his tongue slips in through my parted lips, and I’m hyperaware of the heat already building inside me, my body’s involuntary reactions to his, and the powerful urge to draw him in closer.
Fisting his shirt in my hands, I drag him toward me while I rise to my knees, eliciting what sounds like a low groan from deep within his chest, and he grips the back of my neck. A part of me is waiting, fearing the second he pulls away. The other half is savoring every second of this and reveling in the fact that he seems to be enjoying it, too.
Landry continues, his kisses growing hungrier as his hands become entangled in my hair, and I match his intensity. My fingertips dig themselves into his muscles while he dips his tongue into my mouth and swallows each of my desperate whines.
“I knew it. You taste so damned good,” he mumbles against my lips. “It only makes it that much harder not to imagine what the rest of you might taste like.”
A shiver runs through me when I realize I’ve unlocked a new level of Landry’s personality. He’s not just sweet—he’s spicy.
He’s smushy .
“Why don’t you see for yourself?” I spit out after a while.
He whimpers and shifts our positions so that I’m lying on my back as he hovers over me. “Is that another dare?” he rasps.
“Yes,” I say, gulping, and he immediately moves his lips down to my neck.
“Hmm,” he hums and drags his tongue over my skin before his teeth scrape the same sensitive spot. “This checks out. But there are other places I’m still curious about.”
I smile and tilt my head back. “Other places?”
His hand slips beneath my shirt then, and I know I shouldn’t let this go on. I’m leading us both into a very, very near occasion of sin. But at this point, I can’t imagine Landry isn’t the man I’ve been saving myself for all these years. Maybe I haven’t ventured this far into physical intimacy before, but I’ve never even felt the desire to do this with anyone else. And that has to mean something.
“Gah, you’re so soft … so perfect,” he murmurs. “So sexy it hurts.” He barely gets that last bit out before devouring my mouth again, and I’m slightly disappointed he’s not continuing his taste test. Besides the time when Landry was drunk, I’ve never been called sexy before, and he’s definitely making me feel sexy right now.
I work up the nerve to drag my hands over him, and he groans when I grasp his backside and pull him down. He pushes himself against me when my back arches up to meet him. Then I slide my hands up his shirt, and he flinches, making us both stop and giggle.
“Shit, that’s cold,” he says, staring down at me and smiling.
“Hey, you’re not supposed to be holding back right now,” I scold him playfully. “You didn’t hear me complaining when your popsicle fingers started crawling around in my shirt.”
His smile grows cockier. “Oh, I heard you, Blondie.” Then he leans down and nips at my bottom lip. “But it didn’t sound like you were complaining.”
“Then why’d you stop?” I muse.
“I have to stop at some point, don’t I?” I’m sure the question was meant to be rhetorical, but the way he brings his lips back to that sensitive spot near my ear makes me think he wants an answer.
“No one’s stopping you, Landry,” I breathe. “In fact, I’d rather you didn’t.”
But my response has the opposite effect, because he pulls away and stares down at me, looking confused. “Is this all you want from me, then?”
I blink up at him. “No, of course not.”
His chest heaves as he continues. “But I haven’t even told you how I feel.”
“I think I know,” I say, giving him a soft smile.
“No,” he replies, shaking his head. “You don’t understand men at all, how easy it would be for me to go through with this, especially if I didn’t care.”
“You’re not like that, though,” I say quietly. “I know you, and you could never?—”
“You don’t know anything,” he cuts me off and moves to sit back on his heels. “You have no idea what I’ve done or what I’m capable of. The only kind of sex I’ve ever had is the detached kind. And I’ve told you over and over again that I don’t buy in to love or marriage. What did you expect?”
I tug my sweatshirt down and rise up on my elbows, my face heating up. “I guess I was hoping you’d feel something different with me.”
He looks away. “Yeah, well, I told you I’d never live up to your expectations,” he mutters to himself. “Come on. It’s late. And there’s not going to be any snow. You should get back to bed before you catch something.”
“No.” I frown. “I’m not ready to go yet.”
He blows out a breath. “Suit yourself then. I’ll see you in the morning.” Then he actually gets up and walks away, leaving me alone at the edge of the woods, just as the first few snowflakes fall.