“Well, it’s definitely notsmallerthan 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, wecansurvive without sex. It’s not impossible.”
“I know that,” I retort. “But I don’t imagine youwantto. 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 holdingyouback?”
“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.”
