Lockdown Love

by Brisa Starr

  I clean my wound and gently dab on a few drops of tea tree oil. After a moment, the oil dries, and I proudly slather on some of the honey and cover it with a fresh bandage. Then, for good measure, I add some glossy lipstick, a swipe of mascara, tighten my ponytail, and give myself a nod of approval in the mirror.

  Feeling a bit more empowered, I determine to make this one of the best damn books ever on plant-based remedies. I’ll show him. I stand up straight, head high, and I walk out of the bedroom. I swiftly open the door and see Landon still standing there in the kitchen. His back leans against the counter, and his arms cross over his chest.

  Shit. He still looks sexy.

  I glare at him and grab my laptop from the counter, walking out of the kitchen without a word.

  Four hours later, I’m still working with my head down in the dining room, concentrating, and Landon walks in. My notes are scattered all over the dining room table and floor, along with an empty plate except for the crumbs remaining from my lunch. My special cup is filled with tea that I never got around to drinking, so it just sits there looking murky.

  He looks at me, and I sense some sort of disapproval in his eyes. What the hell?

  “You know, you might make more progress if it wasn’t so messy in here,” he dares to say.

  The balls!

  He continues, “And, if I remember correctly, you’ve rented a room in this house, and although you have access to the common areas, too, I wouldn’t expect you to make such a mess for others to have to look at.”

  I’m absolutely offended, horrified, and I huff in disbelief at his statements. My blood pounds so loudly in my ears that I can hardly hear myself when I retort in a clipped tone, “This is not a mess. It’s perfect. It makes perfect sense to me, and I’m working just fine. Fuck you very much.”

  I quickly look away, startled at my own language because I don’t drop F-bombs very often.

  “Oh really? I’m just curious... how much progress have you made?” he inquires and leans over the table, putting both hands on it.

  “None of your business.” Exasperated, I stand up and quickly start piling papers together. I stack everything in my arms and look at him. “Hhmph!” I grumble.

  “And, if you must know, I was working inside because it was too windy outside,” I say. “And the wind yesterday freaked me out, after what happened with the umbrella. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go work in my bedroom. Where I won’t be disturbed,” I huff and storm out of the room. The nerve!

  I take all of my things into my bedroom and toss them onto the bed. Still riled up, feathers ruffled, I realize I need a break. I’ll take a long run and blow off some steam. I slip on my running shorts and sit on the bed to lace up my running shoes. But his words, crashing through my thoughts, continue to rattle me.

  I sit up, feeling frustrated.

  I wonder... maybe he’s right. I hang my head, heavy, and look at my disheveled pile of papers.

  What made me think that I could write this book anyway? He happened to catch me in the middle of a section where I was struggling, and I guess he could tell by the way everything littered the room. I don’t even know if I can write this book anymore. Maybe my memories with Granny are still too raw. What if I don’t do her justice? What if nobody buys the book? What if people laugh at it, and I don’t do a good job for Granny?

  I walk into the kitchen and I head for the front door.

  He steps out of his bedroom, just down the hall from the front door, and sees me in my running clothes. Apparently still having balls, he asks, “Do you want company?”

  Absurd.

  I can’t help but laugh with shock at his question, and he can guess my answer. I open the front door and, as I step outside, I say over my shoulder, “No thanks. I’ve got Rachel Maddow to keep me company.” And with that, I put my earbuds in my ears and leave for my run.

  After an hour of pounding the pavement, I head back to the house. I love running. I always feel better after one, because it clears my head, and I return in a better state of mind, with renewed confidence and perspective. I’m still angry with Landon, but I feel better about the book because I chewed on it in my head while running. I know I can write a book that would make Granny proud, and that’s all I care about.

  I walk into my bedroom and peel off my sweaty shorts and sports bra. Time for a shower. Leaving my hair up to keep it dry, I step under the running water. The shower finishes off the task I set for myself with running, and I step out feeling relaxed and refreshed.

  I have peace in my heart. I know I can write this book. It will be a challenge trying to get it done in the month, but with focus, I will do my best. And I sure as hell won’t let a man get in the way of me and my dream with distractions. No matter how hot he is.

  I slide on my favorite short jean shorts. They hang low on my waist, and the soft denim feels good. I throw on a tight green T-shirt. I add my Granny’s jade earrings and adjust my ponytail. A swipe of shiny, pink lip gloss finishes the look.

  My stomach grumbles and I head to the kitchen for a bite to eat. I’m rummaging through the refrigerator when I hear Landon call for me from the back yard.

  I open the door and cross my arms. “Yeah?” I ask, eyebrows raised. He sits at the small, ornate table by the grapefruit tree. There are two wine glasses and a bottle of rosé wine on it. I can see from where I’m standing that it’s not one of the bottles I bought.

  Next to the wine glasses sits a plate with different cheeses and salamis sliced. There’s also a small dish of green olives. What is it with this guy and great food? I guess he knows a thing or two about it. I’m mildly impressed, and my mouth starts to water just looking at it all.

  “It’s a peace offering,” he says and smiles. “I want to apologize for my comments earlier about the messy space. It was none of my business, and though I keep a tidy living space myself, I realize that you have just as much a right to be here and use that space.”

  I’m tempted. Relaxing outside sounds like the perfect ending to my busy day. The food and wine look delicious, too. So does he, if I’m honest... it’s impossible to stay angry when his gorgeous smile is making me melt. The setting sun paints the sky in colors of sultry purples and pinks, and sitting outside to enjoy it sounds awesome. What’s the harm?

  Screw it. I want to do this.

  “Apology accepted.”

  I take the seat next to him, and he pours me a glass of the rosé. He hands it to me, and our fingers brush as I take the glass. There’s that feeling again, tingling down my back.

  “Did you go shopping?” I ask.

  “Yes, while you were out running,” he replies. “I picked up a few things, hoping you would join me.”

  I taste the wine. It’s soft yet refreshing. It cools my throat and finds its way to my overheated belly that’s starting to fill with butterflies again. Maybe if I drink more, I’ll drown them. I take another swallow, bigger this time, and think about how this man simultaneously warms my blood in some ways and boils it in others.

  “I see you, too, have good taste in wine,” I say.

  “Glad you like it,” he says, not taking his eyes off me.

  I look away and take a moment to enjoy it all. Comfortable silence settles around us as we take in the beautiful and sexy evening enveloping us. After a few minutes of sipping our wine, we chat, and I start to learn more about him.

  He tells me about his dermatology practice. I learn that he was voted one of the top 100 doctors this year in Madison. No wonder he feels stressed. Running a busy medical practice must be a lot to bear, along with handling the emotions of losing his parents. And no wonder he has an ego. He’s a doctor — and a really successful one.

  I tell him more about my Granny, and he asks me about my work. The wine relaxes us, and we’re starting to enjoy ourselves, when Landon’s phone rings. Startled, he picks it up. “It’s my sister. She probably wants to check on things. I’ll put her on speaker phone because this will be quick.”

  He
answers his phone. “Hey, Sadie. You’re on speaker phone, what’s up?”

  “Hi, Landon! How are you doing? How is our guest?” she asks.

  “Why don’t you ask her yourself,” he says and turns the phone toward me. This catches me a little off-guard. I’ve never actually spoken with Sadie, as we only exchanged emails when setting up the room rental. And to be here, hanging out with her brother right when she called, I feel a bit weird.

  “Hi, Sadie. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Emma.”

  “Nice to meet you, too,” Sadie replies. “Glad you’re both there because I’m calling to see if you’ve been watching the news?”

  “No, what news?” Landon asks.

  “The news about the virus in Sun City West.”

  Landon sits up straight. “Really? What’s going on?”

  “Well apparently the virus from China and Europe has found its way here. There were some German travelers who went to Vegas. They were asymptomatic and didn’t know they were sick. Unfortunately, there was also a group of senior citizens from Sun City West who took a bus tour up to Vegas last weekend.”

  “Oh god,” Landon says as he rubs his hand down his face.

  Sadie continues, “Yeah, so old people are highly susceptible, and some of them were infected. Long story short, the virus is in Sun City West right now. A couple dozen people have tested positive, and there are probably a lot more that they don’t know about yet.”

  “Holy shit,” Landon says to his sister. He looks over at me, and his eyes are wide. “What else do you know, Sadie?”

  “Well, the virus spreads so fast that they’re essentially locking down the city as of 5pm tomorrow.”

  “Locking down the city?” we say in unison.

  “What exactly does that mean, Sadie?” Landon asks as he leans forward.

  “It means you’ve gotta stay put. You have to stay at home and self-isolate as much as possible. Grocery stores and pharmacies remain open. But you want to stay home as much as possible and just hunker down there. At least until they get this under control,” Sadie explains.

  “Fuck,” Landon says. “I’m supposed to leave at the end of the week.” He looks at me.

  Sadie continues, “I don’t think you’re going anywhere for a while, Landon. They’re already canceling flights out of Phoenix because they expect this to spread, and they’re trying to contain it.”

  “OK, Sadie, thanks for letting us know. I’ll turn on the news and see if there’s anything more on it.”

  “Sorry for the shitty news, you guys,” Sadie says. “And Emma, it was nice meeting you. If you need anything, just let Landon know, and he’ll take care of it.”

  “OK, thanks, Sadie, I appreciate it.” Landon turns the phone back to face him.

  “Thanks, Sadie. Love you.”

  “Sure thing, and remember to stay safe. Practice good hand washing. Twenty seconds under hot water with soap.”

  “Uh — thanks, Sadie. I’m a doctor. I know how to wash my hands,” he says. “Bye.”

  Landon ends the call and gets up to turn on the TV that’s mounted to a wall inside the covered patio area. He grabs the remote from a drawer in the wet bar and sits back down next to me, flipping the channel to Fox News. “Well, let’s see what’s on the news.”

  “Fox News? Really?”

  “Oh, would you prefer fake news? Maybe Rachel Maddow is on,” he quips.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” I reply. “Of all the news channels, you cannot tell me that you want to watch Fox News.”

  “I can, and I will,” he replies.

  “Well then I’ll go watch real news somewhere else,” I say and stand up.

  He grabs my hand and says softly, “Sit down.” I’m startled to feel a sizzle of pleasure streak through my body at his possessive tone. And I shock myself by following his order.

  “We’ll compromise,” he says. “CNN work for you?”

  “Fine,” I reply, tight-lipped, composure regained.

  President Teegan is on TV talking about the rapid spread of the virus and their attempts to limit the contagion. I admit silently to myself that the president seems to be handling it fairly well. In fact, I find myself agreeing with everything he says and how he’s taking charge of the situation.

  It’s short-lived though. The president takes a question from a reporter who apparently pisses him off, and he belittles the reporter.

  I shake my head.

  “How could you vote for someone like that?”

  “I don’t always love the way he handles the press, but I appreciate his candor and unfiltered responses. I find it refreshing, and it makes me believe what he says even more.”

  “Believe Teegan? Are you serious? After every interview the fact checkers publish lists of all the lies he said,” I respond and clench my fists.

  “These so-called ‘fact checkers’ are part of the liberal media. For every article alleging his lies, I can show you the truths.” He shrugs, and I feel my blood pressure rise and my voice along with it.

  “I’m not going through this again,” I glare at him and then stand up. I grab the bowl of olives, and I storm into the house before he can say another word.

  I charge into my room, fuming. I take a deep breath and roll my neck side to side. Exhaling sharply, I pop a couple olives into my mouth. What sounds good is some time in the hot tub. Alone.

  Yes, perfect.

  I put on my hot pink bikini and grab a plush, yellow towel from my bathroom. I walk outside and see that Landon is still sitting there. He looks at me, and I think he’s surprised to see me in a bathing suit. Good. Let him see my almost naked body and what he’s not getting.

  I saunter over to him without saying a word. I grab my glass of wine and the bottle, and I head over to the hot tub. I slowly ease myself into the super-hot water and immediately feel it relaxing muscles that I didn’t even know were aching. I had managed to allow Landon to wind me up tight like a spring, but the frothy, bubbly water is quickly unwinding me.

  In fact, the soothing hot water makes me forget everything for a moment. I see him looking at me from across the yard, like a wolf eyeing his prey. I squirm a bit, but he can’t tell because it’s getting dark outside, and he’s across the yard. He gets up and goes inside.

  I’m relieved.

  As relaxed as I am from the wine and the hot tub, his comments madden me. I take a couple more sips of my wine, and it works its softening magic on my nerves. I lay my head back on the edge of the hot tub and look up at the stars starting to come out. It’s a beautiful, clear night, and I can faintly see Orion’s belt to the west.

  I love the stars because they make me realize there’s a much bigger world out there. They give me perspective. Granny and I used to go camping, and our favorite part was getting out far enough from city lights, and the stars shined so bright, you could even see the Milky Way.

  I close my eyes and just relax. After a few moments, I hear the door to the house open and close. Shit, he’s back. Without lifting my head, I open my eyes, and he’s standing next to the hot tub. Wearing a bathing suit. Shirtless, naturally. Double shit. Wait... there’s something in his hand. It looks like... a pink, plastic Easter egg?

  “I have a question for you,” he says and holds up the object. I confirm it is indeed a pink egg. He gently tosses it into the hot tub, and the jets of bubbles exaggerate it’s buoyancy, bouncing it happily about. I reach out and grab the egg, looking at him with curiosity and skepticism in my eyes.

  “What’s this?” I ask.

  “Open it.”

  I open it, and there’s one of my Post-it Notes inside with a question on it. I know it’s one of mine because it has little leaves and flowers on it. I unfold the note and read it: Can I join you?

  I look up at him. “Are you serious? Really?”

  “Yes,” he says darkly, looking so intently at me that I shift uncomfortably as desire pools in my belly.

  He doesn’t seem bothered in the least at our earlier spat. />
  I sit up and look at him. “Landon, I’m not ready for another round with you. I’m trying to relax out here. And it was really great until you came out.”

  “So... you’re not saying no then?” He asks with a slight predatory smile, as though he’s got his prey cornered.

  I can’t help myself, in spite of his maddening arrogance. Because, as frustrating as he is, he’s also hot, and with the wine, the stars, the balmy weather, the hot water... well, crap, my defenses have run for the hills. “Fine,” I answer, trying to sound flippant, but my wavering voice betrays me.

  Not waiting a second longer, he gets into the hot tub. He sinks down into the water, sitting much too close to me. “Mind if I sit right here?”

  “There are five other spaces in this hot tub,” I reply. “You could sit a little farther away.”

  “But that wouldn’t be as fun,” he says and gives me one of his wickedly sexy smiles.

  Triple shit.

  “Why are you flirting with me?” I ask him directly. Let’s just get this out in the open. I need to nip this in the bud if I want to make the rest of this trip successful. I need to make it clear that I need him to cool his sexy jets.

  He hesitates a moment and stares at me intently. His eyes travel to my lips, and then my neck, and then to my breasts, where the bubbling water tickles my nipples. “You intrigue me.”

  My face goes blank as he drinks me in with his eyes, and a sensuous energy passes between us. My lips part, and I lick them because they suddenly seem dry. I want to kiss him, and urgency surges through me. He knows it, too. I shouldn’t, but dammit, I want it. I need it.

  The water swishes over my shoulders as his body scoots toward me. I don’t move away. I can’t. This is going to happen. I inhale as he gently cups my face in his hands. Tenderly. My eyes are wide as I look up at him through my long lashes. He leans down, and our lips touch, softly at first, while I relax into his embrace, and then he kisses me hard with passion. In this moment, I realize how much I’d been holding back, and I surrender to his assaulting lips.