28. Daisy
CHAPTER 28
daisy
I turn on my favorite playlist as I make my way to the dryer with an empty basket on my hip. After filling it with clean laundry, I bring it to my room for folding.
I make a separate pile for Landry’s boxers and take it back to the laundry nook, trading the stack of underwear for a fresh towel since I think I might have used the last one yesterday. I smile to myself as I pop the towel back into the dryer for a minute to get it extra warm and fluffy, singing along before I return to my room and open the bathroom door.
Then I freeze in place. My jaw lowers, and I blink a few times as I stare blankly. Because standing before me in all his soaking wet glory is my husband.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen a grown man naked, at least in real life. And let me tell you, the biology textbooks haven’t done this one justice. John Denver continues crooning in my ears while my eyes run over Landry’s body, which is still covered in water droplets. And muscles. Lots of muscles.
Country roads, take me home, to the place I belong …
I bite my lip as my gaze trails down his abdomen, all roads leading to the same focal point, and I’m pretty sure I tilt my head to the side as I take in the view.
“Wow. There it is,” I blurt out, and Landry moves to cover himself with his hands.
“Daisy?” I vaguely hear him call, but his voice sounds muffled. Then I remember I’m wearing my noise-cancelling earbuds, and I quickly shift everything to one arm so I can use my free hand to remove them.
“DAY-ZAY!”
I flinch. “What?”
“I’ve been yelling at you for a whole minute! I need a towel,” he grinds out.
“Oh right, sorry,” I say, begrudgingly offering him the warm one in my arms.
He growls in frustration. “Can you bring it a little closer to me? I don’t want to drip all over the floor.”
I guess I was subconsciously hoping he’d reach out and uncover himself again. I stifle a smirk as I step forward, and he clears his throat.
“Um, do you mind?” he asks when I hesitate to turn away. But I notice his lips twitching once I finally drag my gaze up to his face. “A little privacy would be nice, too.”
“I thought you said it was okay if I checked you out,” I mumble, my cheeks flushing.
He scoffs and wraps the towel around his waist. “I wasn’t exactly offering to pose buck-ass naked for you.” Then he shivers. “Ooohh, it’s so warm.”
I giggle at the abrupt change in his tone. “You’re welcome.”
“Thanks,” he says, his mouth curling up into a smile. “Still waiting on that privacy, though.”
“Fine, I guess I’ve gotta heat up a fresh towel, anyway,” I reply before I reluctantly leave him in the bathroom.
I’m bending over to slam the dryer door closed when I feel Landry brush up beside me. “Thanks again for the towel,” he says quietly, dropping his dirty clothes into the washer. “I may never settle for a room-temperature one again.”
“Consider it your payment for the anatomy lesson,” I retort, and he chuckles out loud, to my surprise. I stand up straight and glare at him. “I’m glad you find me so entertaining.”
“I’m sorry,” he replies and smirks. “It was my fault. I’m starting to wonder how many times this is going to happen before we learn our lesson about locking doors and knocking before entering.”
“Yeah,” I tell him, blushing again. “And I can’t seem to remember my manners every time it happens. At least you manage to look away when you walk in on me.”
“That’s only because if I stare, it’s creepy. But when you stare, it’s just … cute.”
My stomach dips. “Is it?”
He shrugs. “It was kind of adorable when you turned your head to the side like a confused puppy.”
“I did not look like a confused puppy,” I whine, covering my face.
“You were certainly surprised. I just wasn’t sure whether it was bigger or smaller than you expected.”
I groan behind my hands. “I’m going to pretend that was meant to be rhetorical.”
“Full transparency, remember?” I bring my hands down to find his expression entirely too smug for a man who doesn’t already know what I’m thinking.
“Well, it’s definitely not smaller than I imagined,” I say.
He furrows his brow, trying to conceal his grin. “You’ve been imagining it?”
“No,” I squeal in protest and reach out to shove him in the chest. “I only think about your butt that way.” He throws his head back and laughs loudly, and I smile. I love funny, flirty Landry, even when he’s teasing me.
“Should I have just turned around, then?”
I lift a shoulder, my confidence growing as I feed off his attention. “I don’t know. Would I have liked it?”
He clicks his tongue. “It’s probably hairier than you think back there.”
“It’s all pretty fuzzy, if we’re being honest,” I say and gesture over his chest.
“Hey, that’s a sign of healthy testosterone levels,” he retorts, crossing his arms but still grinning playfully.
“Too bad you let it all go to waste.”
He stops abruptly, and his expression turns serious. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” I say, trying not to let him hear the sadness in my voice. “I’m going to take a shower.”
But he sidesteps and blocks my exit with his body. “Daisy.” His voice is deep and demanding, and this time I’m the one who shivers.
How am I supposed to explain that I’m just feeling sorry for myself while concealing enough of my desperation to keep from making him uncomfortable?
I lick my lips before I begin. “It’s just that … well, I guess there’s a part of me that feels guilty, like I’m holding you back from dating or … whatever it is you normally go for.”
He fixes his gaze on me as he processes the shift in our conversation. “I told you before we got married that I wasn’t really dating.”
“You’ve dated in the past, though, haven’t you?”
“Yes, but I always made it clear I wasn’t looking for anything serious.”
“Maybe I’m worried you’ll start to feel like you’re missing out on … on the other half of that equation.”
His eyes run over me as he considers it. “You mean sex.”
I nod. “Any kind of physical relationship, I guess.”
He sighs and reaches up to run his hand through his hair, and I’m momentarily distracted by the way his muscles flex. “Despite the way some men act, we can survive without sex. It’s not impossible.”
“I know that,” I retort. “But I don’t imagine you want to. I mean, it’s obviously different for me, but I’m still looking forward to it … one day.”
He narrows his eyes. “So, you feel like I’m holding you back?”
“No, of course not,” I say too quickly. “I just mean that I … you know what, never mind. Forget I said anything.”
“Daisy, wait,” he calls before I can scurry away. “You’ve never been shy before, but if there’s something you want to ask me, you don’t have to be embarrassed about it.”
Think you’d ever be willing to match my desperation? Feel like putting all that wasted masculinity to use and taking this fake marriage to the next level? What’s it gonna take for you to see me as a viable option or a real wife?
A number of questions run through my mind, most of them sounding more like propositions, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be brave enough to ask them.
“I don’t doubt your mom was pretty thorough in whatever you guys call the homeschool version of sex-ed, but …” He shrugs and smirks. “If you can’t ask your platonic husband about this kind of stuff, who can you, right?”
“You think I’m working up the courage to ask you questions about sex?” I venture, crossing my arms over my stomach when it flutters again. “Landry, you do realize I have four married sisters and two sisters-in-law who’ve been pregnant a combined total of seventeen times between them, right? And that’s not counting the stuff I hear from your sister and Tenley. Because contrary to popular belief, Catholics aren’t prudes. We may wait until we’re married to have sex, but we certainly aren’t shy about it. So, don’t worry, despite my lack of firsthand experience, I’m far from ignorant. Not to mention, I’ve been charting my own cycles since I hit puberty. I probably understand more about women’s health than you do.”
His expression grows cockier. “Well, I am a doctor, Blondie. The MD at the end of my name says I know a good bit, too. And I haven’t received many complaints in the past, if you get my drift.”
I groan, partially because he’s annoying me, and partially because he’s hot as heck right now, which is equally irritating. “Yeah, well, did you learn how to be an ass in medical school? Because I’m starting to believe you really are a professional.”
He pulls back, dropping his smug expression when he realizes I’ve actually cussed at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to …” He swallows hard. “I thought we were just kidding around. But … I guess I read the situation wrong.”
I frown. It’d be easier to stay angry at him if he’d stop being so insightful and sweet. “You did,” is all I say.
“I wasn’t making fun of you or your lack of experience. I just thought I’d keep things light to make you feel more comfortable about opening up. I want you to know you can trust me with anything.” He pauses and waits for me to nod before he adds, “And I promise I won’t tease you about stuff like this again.”
“Okay,” I whisper, my chin trembling against my will. I’m starting to regret all those apology-tutoring sessions.
“No, please don’t …” He shakes his head, looking entirely too contrite. “I really am sorry. What can I do to make you feel better?”
A short make out session would do the trick. Or even an admission that you see me as an actual adult woman.
“Don’t worry about it,” I mumble instead. “This whole conversation took a wrong turn from the beginning.”
“Then let’s start over, please. I hate leaving you upset like this.” He reaches for my hand, practically begging me to forgive him.
I wipe a tear from my cheek. “I’m not even sure what I meant in the first place anymore,” I lie.
“Hey, look at me. If this has anything to do with you thinking you’re holding me back from something better, then you’re wrong. Maybe our relationship isn’t conventional, and I know you’re still looking forward to finding the man you’re really supposed to marry, but for now, I like things the way they are. In fact, it’s kind of perfect, if you ask me.” He shrugs shyly before he continues. “You make me feel comfortable, like I can really be myself. And I’ve never felt that way with anyone else, not even with Rowan or my own family. We can be completely honest with one another, and we’re both good at sensing what the other needs. I mean, who really needs sex or romance or any of the other shit that goes along with a traditional marriage when it’s this easy?”
My lips part in shock, yet he’s smiling at me as if it’s the best thing he’s ever said. He might think he’s just given me the greatest compliment in the world as opposed to twisting a knife into my heart, but I’m leaning toward the latter.
“People who want kids, I suppose,” I spit out awkwardly.
“What?” he asks, furrowing his brow.
“As you so often like to remind me, you can’t make babies without having sex. So yeah, Landry, I need those things, eventually.”
His smile falters. “Of course, you deserve it—and I’ll do anything to make sure you get all that one day. I just meant that we don’t need … I mean, this works for now, right?” He gestures between us, and I absorb another invisible blow to the chest.
I shake my head. “I’m very grateful for everything you’ve done for me. But this is not enough, for either of us. It shouldn’t be. And you’re obviously not as good as you think at sensing what I need.”
He stares back at me, his face panic-stricken. “I’m not?” he asks after a while.
“Not even close,” I whisper before I turn on my heels to march away.