40. Daisy
CHAPTER 40
daisy
I smile back at Charley when she coos at me from over Blake’s shoulder in the pew in front of us. It makes me feel so nice to be recognized by her that I think my heart could burst. That is, until she turns her eyes to Landry beside me, and her entire face lights up. She immediately begins bouncing excitedly and reaches out for him, and his expression mirrors hers as he leans forward to take her into his arms. Then Penny whines from her spot in Loren’s lap when she notices she’s been abandoned, and he turns to scoop her up, too.
No offense to Father Conrad, since I’m sure he’s gearing up to deliver a lovely homily, on this, the Super Bowl of Masses. But it’s hard to concentrate on anything else but Landry and the twins now, and I can’t imagine God would have made babies this cute unless he were trying to give us a taste of true joy and happiness, right?
Though I must admit, at this point in my life there is a very fine line between lust and baby fever. And the man sitting beside me is currently giving me a healthy dose of both.
It’s a good thing I made it to confession earlier today.
I’m teasing Penny and making her giggle by yanking her pacifier out of her mouth and giving it back when Landry leans down and whispers near my ear, “Aren’t you supposed to be paying attention?”
“Shh,” I scold him. “Let me have this.”
His brow lifts. “I thought you said no expectations .”
I gasp and nudge him. “I meant that you have to share these babies with me in case I never get to have my own,” I say through my teeth, trying not to smirk.
“Never say never, Blondie,” he mumbles, staring intently at my mouth.
And we’ve officially crossed that line.
I clear my throat and turn my attention back to my game with Penny, and Loren turns to shoot us a knowing look under the guise of checking on the twins.
Penny eventually climbs into my lap and falls asleep in my arms, allowing me to participate in the rest of the Mass, and I admittedly enjoy holding her on the walk up to the communion rail. It’s almost as sweet as the sight of Landry and Charley smiling at me when I return to our pew, as if they’re both happy to see me. A girl could get used to all this.
I reluctantly return my borrowed baby once Mass is over, and Blake leans around Charley to smirk at me when he notices Landry’s hand resting on the small of my back.
“We’ll meet y’all at Dad’s in a few. We’re going home to change,” Landry tells Loren.
“To ‘change,’ riiighhtt …” She shifts Penny in her arms so she can free her hands to make air quotes, and I tell Landry I told you so in side-eye. But to my surprise, he simply grins at his sister’s assumptions.
“I’d need more than a few minutes for that,” he replies evenly, his hand fisting into the back of my dress and making me weak in the knees again. I should probably elbow him or at least scold him for the comment, but I can’t bring myself to do anything beyond making another deposit in that bank of Landry fantasies. It’s funny how it seems to have grown exponentially overnight.
“That’s not church-parking-lot-appropriate humor, bro,” Blake says, his brow lifting appreciatively. “I like it.”
Loren wrinkles her nose in distaste. “Not a fan myself.” Then she narrows her eyes as she glances back and forth between us. “I thought you were staying with your parents for the holidays, Daisy. But I’m glad you’re joining us after all.”
I feel my cheeks flush. “Thank you for inviting me.”
Then the four of us stand there for a moment before Landry blurts out, “Daisy made bread pudding. Come on, let’s go,” and drags me awkwardly to the Jeep.
I giggle at him when we climb inside, and he turns to smirk at me. “Come on, that was smooth, right?”
“Sure,” I snort. “They’ll never suspect a thing.”
He takes me home to change into something more comfortable, as promised, but the only thing I bother swapping is my shoes when I realize he’s waiting outside my bedroom door.
“I’ve got an idea,” he says as soon as I emerge, holding up his phone. There’s a three-minute timer on the screen. “We can’t do much in three minutes, right?”
I bite my lip and start the timer before I throw my arms around his neck and press my mouth to his. He hums in appreciation as he kisses me back, and we only reset the timer twice before we come up for air.
“We’d better …” I begin, licking my lips.
He nods and gulps. “Can’t forget the bread pudding.”
I grin. My mom wrote down her recipe for me yesterday, and Landry and I spent the earlier part of our afternoon figuring it out … I think. I hope, anyway.
He grabs the warm baking dish from the oven after already having loaded all the gifts, and I run to the bathroom for a quick touchup on my lipstick before we go. I don’t usually wear much makeup, but it is Christmas Eve, after all.
“Aren’t you going to ask about our game plan this time?” Landry smirks as we pull up at his dad’s house a few minutes later.
I let out a shaky exhale. “I think you’re getting way too good at this.”
“At what?” he asks, clearly amused by my nervousness.
“At reading my mind,” I reply quietly.
He chuckles and grabs my hand. “I would say it’s because I’m making the effort now, but I think it’s just a result of not having to hide how closely I watch you.”
Oh, gimme a break. How the heck am I supposed to keep my composure and not react to stuff like this?
I know Landry’s not usually afraid to say what’s on his mind, but the idea that he’s been struggling to keep himself from developing romantic feelings for me all this time is sort of terrifying. Because now that he’s suddenly open to those feelings, he hasn’t been holding back with his affection. He’s come a long way practically overnight, but I don’t know how I’ll recover if he never changes his mind about commitment and marriage after giving me so much hope.
I take in another deep breath, and he furrows his brow. “Did I say something wrong?”
There he goes again, paying attention.
“No. It’s just … it’s getting harder to rein in my optimism. You’re giving me the warm fuzzies, too, you know.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, laughing again. “I guess I hadn’t realized how much I’ve been suppressing for the past few months.”
“Months?” I squeak out.
He shrugs shyly. “I kept trying to convince myself it was all just appreciation and familiarity. But I’m afraid it’s so much more than that.”
“It is?”
“I still don’t know where we go from here, Daze, and maybe we should keep our marriage to ourselves for a little longer, at least until we figure things out. But I’m not going to be able to hide my feelings for you anymore.”
I nod eagerly. “I’m fine with that plan, as long as it involves more kissing.”
He smiles as he leans in to press his lips to mine. “That’s definitely included in the plan,” he says once he pulls away. Then he comes around to open my door and piles the dish and the gifts in one arm so he can take my hand with the other.
We walk into the house with our fingers intertwined, and the noisy kitchen quiets as everyone’s attention lands on us.
“Um, Merry Christmas,” I offer awkwardly.
A grin spreads across Lilley’s face. “Merry Christmas, you two,” she returns, stepping forward to take the dessert from Landry and gesturing to our clasped hands. “What’s this about?”
Landry clears his throat and glances at me. “Exactly what it looks like.”
“Looks like you asked your teacher to bring you to the potty,” Loren quips from the other side of the kitchen. Landry grunts, and my cheeks redden as everyone snickers behind her.
He lets go of my hand to set the presents down. I watch carefully, expecting to see him upset, but he’s actually smiling when he turns and curls an arm around my back.
“That’s not a bad idea. Maybe we’ll sneak away later.” He shoots me a sexy smirk as he says it, then he leans down to whisper near my ear. “We’ll call it Plan A , and you can decide how long to set the timer.”
I look away in an attempt to keep my face from flushing any darker and find Blake stifling another laugh at my reaction to Landry’s smushy side. But it’s not just his sexy offer that’s got me so flustered; the fact that he doesn’t seem to mind Loren making a joke at his expense feels like a pretty big turning point.
“Hey now, I thought you were enforcing a zero-seduction policy?” Loren continues. “And telling spicy secrets is way worse than accidentally flirting.”
Landry shrugs. “The policy has changed.”
“Since when?” Loren asks, blinking at me in surprise. I can only imagine what assumptions she’s making about us, since she also knows about my full-chastity policy.
Landry narrows his eyes at her. “Since before it was any of your damned business, Lo-Lo.”
She scoffs. “Fine. I’ll just ask Daisy about it when you’re not around. Maybe she’ll have an explanation for the two of you going home ‘to change’ after Mass and showing up in the exact same outfits.”
He sighs, but a cocky smile creeps across his face.
“Hey, let’s just all take a second to be grateful that Landry’s finally getting laid,” Emmett mumbles quietly, making the rest of them choke back their laughter while the tips of my ears begin to burn. Landry shoots me an apologetic look, but I do my best to weather the storm, because I don’t want him to think their teasing bothers me.
Lilley swats at her husband’s shoulder. “That’s not funny,” she scolds him, though she’s biting back a smile.
“At least someone’s getting laid this week,” Blake grumbles and forces a frown, and Loren rolls her eyes.
“Well, pardon me for ovulating, sir,” she retorts, and he walks up behind her, wraps her up in his arms, and places a kiss on her neck. I wait for Landry to express his disgust, but he doesn’t even grunt or growl. In fact, he laughs at them.
Landry’s mom comes into the kitchen, interrupting my thoughts. She holds Charley in her arms while Lilley’s daughter follows, carrying Penny.
“Oh, Daisy, I’m so glad you’re here,” Ms. Lana says as soon as she sees me, and I think I see something pass across Loren’s face.
“Thanks for having me. Um, I made—I mean, we tried to make my mom’s famous bread pudding,” I reply, gesturing toward the dish Lilley set down on the stove earlier.
“My favorite. How are your parents?” she asks warmly as she hands Charley back to Loren and goes to the stove. Loren forces a smile and clutches Charley close, and Blake rubs her arm as if he’s comforting her. I thought things had been going well for Loren and her mom lately, but maybe I was wrong.
“My parents? Oh, they’re great,” I reply absently.
“This smells amazing.” Ms. Lana turns to smile at us. “Did you help, Lan?”
“Yeah,” he says flatly, his eyes fixed on Loren.
“Now that everyone’s here, are we ready to open gifts?” Lilley asks when she senses the tension. The others fake their enthusiasm and pile into the small living room where Landry’s dad is already stationed in his recliner. He barely glances away from the football game he’s watching with Lilley’s son when we pass him.
Landry leads me over to another chair in the far corner of the room and pulls me down onto his lap after he sits. I do my best to maintain my composure as he cups his hand around my side and slips his thumb beneath the hem of my blouse. He rubs gentle circles over my lower back, making me shiver, and I make a mental note to add more separate skirt-and-shirt combos to my wardrobe. But I don’t think he intends for the contact to be sexy, judging by his lengthy exhale.
I scoot in closer and drape my arm around his shoulders, and he looks up at me with a sad smile, confirming my suspicions. He’s never had an aversion to my touch at all. In fact, I think he might need the physical contact to ground him.
I use my fingertips to mimic his movements over the back of his neck, and I watch as his whole body relaxes. My insides turn all warm and gooey again when the realization hits me—physical touch must be one of Landry’s love languages.
Well, I’ll be ?—
The sound of a throat clearing makes me flinch. “Santa, Mrs. Claus,” Blake drawls as he hands me a small stack of presents, and I’m forced to use both of my arms to take them. “As you were,” he leans in and says quietly with a wink.
After all of the gifts have been opened, everyone goes into the kitchen to serve dinner before returning to the living room, and I’m relieved this isn’t a formal table gathering. Landry sits on the floor, giving me the chair. But all he does is move his food around on his plate, and I can tell he’s counting down the minutes until we can go.
Once I’m done, he stands and takes our dishes to the kitchen while the rest of his family has desert. The bread pudding gets rave reviews from everyone. Well, everyone except Landry’s dad. Despite the way he finished off a decent-sized serving, he grunts disapprovingly after Ms. Lana reminds the whole family that Landry helped me bake it.
We take another turn playing with the twins, which seems to cheer Landry up a bit, as does the college football debate he has with his nephew and Blake. Until his dad chimes in to contradict him.
I can’t help it when I roll my eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. I don’t usually let this kind of stuff get to me, but there’s only so much I can take.
I might be channeling my inner Landry when I lean over to drape my arms over his shoulders and whisper, “When are you gonna take me home, Santa?” a little too loudly.
His eyebrows nearly reach his hairline, and he tilts his head back to blink up at me, looking dazed. “Say the word, Blondie.”
I smirk and tuck my hair behind my ears, and he wastes no time in standing and going around the room to dole out goodbyes. His dad rises to shake his hand, which doesn’t impress me much. But the last straw is when I overhear the man telling his son, “Don’t screw that up—you know how you are.”
I walk up to Landry’s father and wrap my arms around his middle, catching him off guard. “Merry Christmas, Coach Reed. Thank you for raising such an amazing man. But you know how he is, right?”
He furrows his brow as I step away, and Landry shakes his head at me, smirking in amusement.
Ms. Lana and Lilley each pull me in for a hug, and Lilley gives me an extra squeeze. “I’m so glad he has you,” she says, making me smile.
Loren comes over to say good night and invites us to the Bourgeois Christmas dinner at her house tomorrow evening. “Hey, is everything okay?” she adds quietly, concern lining her face.
“Yeah, it’s great,” I reassure her.
“Good,” she replies, offering a rueful smile. “I’m glad. It’s just … he can be impatient. Don’t let him pressure you into anything, all right?”
I frown at her, torn between appreciating her effort to protect me and resenting her assumptions about Landry. “We’re fine, but thanks.”
She nods, looking slightly embarrassed now, and Landry shoots her a look as he leads me out.
He holds my hand on the short drive home, stopping to place a kiss over my knuckles once we’re back inside the house.
“Thank you for tonight,” he says softly.
I reach up and stroke his cheek, my fingers scraping against his short beard. “Landry?”
“Hmm?”
I take a deep breath and gaze into his eyes. “I love you.”
He stares back at me for a second, his brow furrowed. “Daisy …”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know that you are loved.” I wasn’t planning on saying it yet, but I feel like he needs to hear it tonight. And it’s the truth.
Landry’s chest rises and falls until he leans in and kisses me softly, his hands entangling in my hair. But that sense of urgency and hunger quickly returns, and now I find myself thinking about my cycle and whether I’m past my window of fertility while I literally crush my body against his. It’s like I can’t get close enough.
My family was right—there’s no way I’m coming away from living with Landry unscathed, and neither is my virginity at this rate. Chastity is a good and holy virtue, I know. And I don’t just think that because I was taught to avoid premarital sex. I truly believe in all the ways a relationship can prosper from treating physical intimacy with reverence and temperance. But it’s all fun and games until you find yourself facing real temptation. And it may have taken me nearly twenty-six years to get to this point, but I’m not sure I can last the next five minutes without begging Landry to take?—
“Sorry,” he says, pulling away and hissing. “That was not the appropriate response to what you said, was it?”
I blink at him, wondering if I accidentally took my anti-seizure meds too early because I’ve never felt this drunk before. “I think it was a lovely way to convey your gratitude,” I slur, and he chuckles.
“Then you’ll understand I mean it as a compliment when I tell you I’m running off to take a cold shower now.” He smirks and kisses me on the lips once more before he pulls away, leaving me whimpering in the kitchen.
I barely talk myself out of knocking on the bathroom door to offer him a warm towel, but I realize my desperation is showing and lock myself inside my bedroom to wait for my turn in the shower instead.
When I emerge, I find him sitting on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. He smirks and inclines his head in an invitation to join him, and I don’t even bother trying to hide my smile as I plop down beside him with my hairbrush.
“Sorry, I had to wash my hair,” I tell him as I flip my damp locks over the arm of the sofa to brush them out.
“Can I help?” he asks, gesturing to the brush.
My brow lifts. “Uh, sure.”
He motions for me to sit on the floor between his knees, then he takes the brush and guides it through my hair until it no longer catches on any tangles. I shiver when he uses both of his hands to section my hair before weaving it into a thick braid. He holds a hand out over my shoulder, and I wordlessly drop an elastic band into his palm. Once he secures the braid, he pushes it to the side and leans down to press his lips to the back of my neck. I tilt my head as his mouth trails over my shoulder, and he wraps his arms around my middle to drag me closer to him.
My eyelids flutter closed, mimicking the butterfly wings flapping around inside me, and I lean back into him. After he takes his time kissing his way across my shoulders, Landry cups my cheeks in his hands and lifts my chin so that I’m looking up at his face. He plants an upside-down kiss on my forehead, then my nose, and finally my lips, and I reach up to hold him in place for a while.
“Daisy,” he breathes when he pulls away, and my name has never sounded so good. I turn and rise to my knees in front of him, and he squeezes his eyes shut tightly. “You make me feel …” He shakes his head before he opens his eyes again. “So much.”
And I can tell by the way he says it, by the way he moves his hands so tenderly over me, that he wants me to know he loves me, too.
“So do you,” I whisper.