CHAPTER 41
daisy
Christmas morning consistsof coffee and eggs, snuggles, and lazy kisses around the house. And it feels like I’m floating on air.
Landry and I have to use the timer a few times to keep ourselves in check, especially after we forget about the batch of peanut butter cookies I was baking in the oven. Thankfully, he’s better than I am about realizing when it’s time to take a break, and he insists on making another bread pudding together so we’ll have something edible to bring to his sister’s later. He also admits that we could both use the distraction.
“Are we going to live off of this one recipe forever now?” he muses as he slides another pan into the oven, and my heart swells at the “forever” he’s so casually slipped in.
I haven’t used the L-word again, mostly because I don’t want him to feel pressured to say it back before he’s ready. But I’m almost afraid to learn he isn’t there yet, because I can’t imagine his affection having any room to grow. He’s already been making me feel so loved and adored.
The oven door swings shut, and Landry turns to lean back against the counter in our tiny kitchen. He crosses his arms and smirks at me while I take him in.
“What?” he asks, shaking his head.
My face warms, and I shrug. “Nothing. It’s just … you’re so cute.”
He snorts, but his cheeks darken, too. “No, you’re cute. I’m … what’s the opposite of cute?”
“Sexy?” I offer.
He lifts his brow in appreciation. “Am I?”
I don’t even bother with a verbal answer as I close in the space between us again.
“You’ll have to start a separate timer on your phone for this,” he mumbles in between kisses. “Mine’s already set for the oven.”
“Can’t we just use the same one for both?”
A rumble resonates from deep within his chest, and he grasps my hips firmly as he moves his mouth to my jaw. “I don’t know. I can do alotin forty-five minutes, Blondie.”
I shiver at the thought of what he might accomplish with that much time. “Fine, just let me get my phone out.”
“Go ahead. Don’t mind me,” he says as he continues down my neck.
I giggle. “Right, because you’re making it so easy for me to concentrate.”
He groans and nips at my shoulder. “Okay, I’ll quit for now. But I’m not sorry for making you think I’m so sexy,” he teases when he straightens.
I shove him playfully. “How do we manage our jobs and everything after this? What do normal married couples do?”
“It, probably.” He grins, and I attempt to reprimand him with a glare, but I’m unable to stop myself from smiling. “They go on a honeymoon to get it out of their systems, I suppose,” he adds, reaching out to hook his fingers through mine. “But I think that could backfire in our case. I have a feeling it’s going to take more than a week of being trapped in a hotel room together to reconcile this much attraction.”
That one nearly knocks the wind out of me, and it takes me a second to remember how my lungs are supposed to work.
Oh, right. They’re involuntary.
“So what are we supposed to do in the meantime?” I choke out.
He bites his lip and shakes his head, his eyes locked onto mine. “Hell if I know.”
“Maybe we need a diversion. Going back to work might be for the best,” I offer, still trying to regulate my breathing. “And I should probably be studying for my certification test next week.”
He furrows his brow. “You’re still planning on taking the home ec position?”
“I haven’t found a better option,” I reply with a shrug.
“Hmm. Where’s that study guide?” he demands, his tone shifting. I point to the book on the coffee table, and he marches over to the living room to retrieve it.
