Chapter Two
Archer
She’s the most beautiful woman that I’ve ever seen. I watch as the sun shines in through the kitchen windows and sparkles like a halo around her head. She looks like an angel, and me with my black hair and dark blue eyes, I look like the devil, the shadow stalking her.
It’s been like that since I first met her. As soon as I saw her in that restaurant, I knew that I had to have her. She looked up at me with those intelligent greens eyes and I was a goner. She’s owned me from that moment onward.
Too bad she doesn’t feel the same way about me.
While I was dying to know everything that I could about her, she couldn’t seem to get away from me fast enough. Luckily for me, her father had seen that I was interested in her and had offered me her hand in marriage. I had felt a little dirty going behind her back like that but then I had looked up and seen the way some of the other guys at the restaurant were staring at her. I couldn’t let some other guy step in and steal her before I could get her to fall in love with me.
I had tried to rationalize that she would fall for me eventually. I would treat her better than any of those other guys and give her the life that she wanted. That was the plan anyway.
For two years I’ve been married to the love of my life and for two years she’s maintained this distance between us. I stare at her strawberry blonde hair, admiring the different color strands that weave through her hair as we eat our breakfast.
Like every other day, we eat breakfast in silence. In a few minutes I’ll put my dishes in the sink and tell her I’ll see her tonight before I head off to work. She’ll nod at me, barely looking up as I head for the door. I guess I should just be grateful that she spends time with me at all, but the truth is that I want more. I need more.
I would have pushed for more a long time ago but I’m afraid that doing that would only push her away, creating even more distance than there is already. Why can’t she love me the way that I love her? Why can’t she see that there is no one else for me but her? No one will love her, care for her, or treat her better than I will. I will give her anything that she asks for, all she needs to do is say the words. I’d give her the world if she only asked.
She pushes her scrambled eggs around her plate, sighing as she spears a piece of cantaloupe and pops it in her mouth. My heart sinks as I stare at the downturned set of her lips. I wish that I could make her happy. Everything that she shows an interest in I get for her but it doesn’t seem to help.
The truth is that I don’t know my wife. Sure, I know her history, her favorite color and what she loves to do, but I don’t really know what makes her tick. I’ve lost count of the number of times that I’ve wished that I could read her mind, to know what she’s thinking.
I grab my plate and carry it over to the sink, taking one last look at my wife before I grab my car keys and my suit coat.
“I’ll see you tonight,” I say, pausing on my way out of the kitchen.
She nods, not looking up as she continues to push her food around her plate. I hesitate, wanting to say something, anything to get her to look up, to smile at me, but my mind blanks. So instead, I take two steps over to where she’s sitting at the table and gently kiss the top of her head. She stiffens but before she can reprimand me, I head for the door.
I have a day full of meetings with potential clients and investment opportunities but none of that is on my mind as I make the drive to my office. All that I can think about is Hazel. I don’t know that I can take much more of this. Something has to give. I just hope that it’s the cage around my wife’s heart.
Chapter Three
Hazel
I tiptoe down the hall, clutching my tote bag tighter as I reach for the doorknob. There’s this arts and crafts class downtown that I’m dying to go to. We’re going to learn how to make our own chunky throw blanket. I can already picture it in my head. Laughing with the other woman as we all struggle to make our blankets come out even. More than the blanket, I’m just dying to be around other people, to maybe make some new friends.
I sneak into the garage, pulling the door closed behind me slowly. I let out a sigh when I don’t hear any shouts or anyone running in my direction. I grab the car keys off the hook and make my way over to my little black Saab. I’ve got the passenger door open and my tote bag halfway inside when the garage door opens and my husband drives his Range Rover inside, parking next to me.
He takes one look at me, without my bodyguards, bag still clutched in my hand and is out of his car and around to me in an instant.
“You’re home early,” I say and he scowls down at me, pulling the bag from my fingers and taking my hand with his free one.
He drags me back inside and up to our bedroom. I hurry behind him, trying to keep up with his longer strides. When we reach our bedroom, he slams the door closed behind us and spins to me. He looks pissed but I can see something else in his eyes. Fear. What does he have to be afraid of?
He looks down at the bag in his hand and opens it, rifling around inside. His brow furrows and he pulls out a fistful of the soft, thick, green yarn.
“Yarn?” He asks, looking up at me with confusion written clearly on his face.
“Yeah.”
“Why are you sneaking out with a bag full of yarn?”
“There was this arts and crafts class downtown. I wanted to go to it.”
He just watches me and I shift on my feet.
“I was going to make a blanket. One of those big chunky throw ones.”
“If you want a blanket, I’ll get you one.”
“No, I want to make a blanket,” I stress.
“I can hire someone to-”
“No! The whole point was that I would get out of here and-”
“You want to leave?” He asks, a look of devastation crossing his face for an instant before shutters close over his face and his usual stoic expression returns. He takes a step back, blocking the bedroom door.
“What?” I ask, taken aback by the look on his face.
“You’re leaving me?”
“No, I just wanted to get out of the house for a bit. Meet some new people, make some new friends. I’m always trapped here.”
I can’t be sure but I swear that I hear him mumble trapped as he turns and sets my bag down by the bedroom door. He’s still in his suit from this morning, the black fabric molding to his athletic frame but his hair is a little messier, like something has him stressed.
“Why are you home so early?” I ask.
He never comes home early. You can set your watch to when he walks out the door and when he walks back in.
“You’re not going to like this,” he murmurs and my body tenses, anxiety flooding my body as I wait for him to explain further
“Something’s happened,” he says as he loosens his tie and turns back to face me.
Chapter Four
Archer
The relief I felt at her bag being filled with yarn instead of clothes has me feeling dizzy. Until she says that she wants to leave, that she’s trapped here. Did I do that? I can’t worry about it right now. I need to tell her what’s going on.
“There’s a virus. It’s spreading. California and a few other states have positive cases and now everything is shutting down. We have to remain in the house. I’m going to send the employees home so that they can take care of their families.”
“So it will be just us here?” She asks, looking a little uneasy. “And we won’t be able to leave or go anywhere?”
“We can go out for essentials. So to the grocery store or pharmacy. That sort of thing.”
She nods as she turns and walks over to the bedroom window, overlooking the water.
“I’m sorry, but you’ll be trapped here for a while,” I say as I watch her.
She doesn’t seem thrilled about being locked down at home with me, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited about it. At least a whole two weeks alone in our house together.
“I’m
going to go tell the staff to go home,” I say.
She’s still by the window and I’m not sure she even heard me. With one last look, I go in search of our head of security and chef. It doesn’t take me long to tell them the news and that they are free to leave for the duration. They already knew about the virus and pandemic but my wife rarely watches the news and she despises social media.
My heart sinks when I realize that I really have cut her off from most of the world. I just wanted her to be safe. You just wanted to make sure that she didn’t find someone else. I shake my head at my subconscious but I know that it’s true.
I might have married Hazel because I love her and I know that there is no one else out there for me, but that’s not the case for her. She’s never even told me she loved me or tried to kiss me. The one and only time that we kissed was on our wedding day and I already know that she wasn’t happy about that.
What if she goes out and meets some other man? Someone that she does love? No, I can’t allow that. I’ll use these next few weeks to make her fall in love with me and then when it’s over, I’ll take her out anywhere that she wants to go. She wants to go to the gym or to some arts and crafts class? No problem. She loves me and I know that she’ll be back. Girls night? Go right ahead because at the end of the night, she’s coming home to me.
I just need her to want and need me as much as I do her.
“I laid out some things for lunch and I was prepping dinner, sir. You’ll just have to put the casserole dish in the oven for forty-five minutes.”
I nod and thank our chef, Carol, as she packs up her purse and heads for the door. I close it after her and just like that, I’m finally alone with my wife. Now to figure out a plan to have her falling head over heels in love with me.
None of my other plans have worked but now we’re alone, with no other distractions. I can show her just how much she means to me, shower her with love and attention. If that doesn’t work, then at the end of this, I’ll set her free.
I ignore the ache in my chest that starts at those thoughts and head up the stairs to our bedroom. She’s still at the window, watching the waves come in.
“You can probably still walk down to the water.”
We live on a secluded part of the beach so she could probably go swimming or surfing and still be fine. She turns and looks at me then, giving me a soft smile and my heart starts to race in my chest. How can she always do that to me? Anytime those green eyes look at me it feels like I’m ten feet tall.
“Am I that obvious?” She asks with a sheepish smile as she toes off her shoes and kicks them toward the closet.
“I know how much you love the water. Carol left out some food if you want a bite to eat.”
“Yeah, I’m starving.”
She walks past me and I follow after her, admiring the sway of her hips as she walks down the stairs and heads for the kitchen.
“She left a casserole for dinner with instructions.”
“Oh, her chicken tetrazzini?” Hazel asks and I swear she’s practically drooling.
“Yes,” I answer her, leaving out the fact that I had asked Carol to make it because Hazel’s period started yesterday and she always likes comfort food the next day. Carol’s chicken tetrazzini is her favorite, along with those little biscuits that you buy next to the butter. I know because I stopped and grabbed some extras last night on my way home. There’s also a chocolate cream pie in the fridge that I picked up last night and a bottle of her favorite red wine downstairs in our wine cellar.
Hazel looks at the soup and salad that Carol left out for lunch and then back to the fridge where the casserole is with a longing look.
“Why don’t we make the casserole now?” I suggest and her face lights up.
“Really?” She asks but I’ve already got it out of the fridge.
“Positive,” I say. I’d do anything to make you happy. I don’t say that last part but it’s on the tip of my tongue.
I preheat the oven while Hazel puts the lunch stuff away. She’s humming under her breath and I smile as I slide the casserole dish into the oven.
Things are already looking up.
Chapter Five
Hazel
“So tell me more about the virus,” I say an hour later as we carry our plates over to the kitchen table.
It’s weird but I think this is the most time that I’ve spent with Archer alone. He’s being…sweet. Not that he isn’t normally nice but he made a joke earlier and I swear it took me a full minute to recover from the shock. Archer never jokes. Or, I don’t think he does. I guess I don’t really know that much about my husband.
He pulls out my chair and I give him a little smile as he takes the chair next to me. That’s different too. Usually he sits in the chair across the table from me.
“It’s a respiratory virus. So symptoms are a fever and having trouble breathing. I don’t think they know all that much about it yet. Just that its worldwide and that we need to take it seriously. They’re telling people not to touch their face and to wash their hands as much as possible.”
I wash my plate off and load it into the dishwasher as I try to process everything that he just told me.
“The elderly and immune-suppressed are at higher risk,” he tells me quietly and my stomach drops.
“I should call my grandma,” I say, pushing back from the table but Archer stops me.
“I called her on the way home. She’s feeling healthy and promised me that she’s staying in.”
My knees give out with relief and I sink down, gripping the counter to keep myself up.
“Thank you,” I tell him but he just nods.
He watches me with worried eyes for a minute and I pick up my fork and glass, loading those into the dishwasher as Archer washes off his plates and passes them to me. We clean up the rest of our lunch in silence but I’ll admit that it isn’t as uncomfortable as it usually is between us.
We finish up in the kitchen before I head into the living room, calling my friends and family back in New York to check on them. Archer sits next to me on the couch, his arm brushing against mine as I make phone call after phone call. Once I’m done, he turns the news on and we watch the latest update. Seeing the streets deserted is eerie and I shiver. Archer shifts closer to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and I stiffen. He tenses and starts to pull his arm away but I grab it and put it back. It’s nice not to feel so alone right now. I try to tell myself that’s it. It has nothing to do with the way my body tingles when he touches me.
We eat the last of the chicken tetrazzini for dinner and I realize that if we keep this up, I’m going to be 800 pounds by the time we’re allowed to resume our usual lives. Archer hasn’t left my side all afternoon. I know that he has phone calls and emails to return but he’s seemed more concerned with me. My heart beats harder remembering how he had been so attentive, changing the channel to my favorite nature documentary and giving me the last roll at dinner.
I’m starting to see him in a new light. I watch him as he gets ready for bed, his arm flexing as he brushes his teeth. Even with white bubbles on his lips, he’s still handsome. His navy blue eyes look tired but lighter somehow. His black hair is getting a little long and I wonder what he’ll look like at the end of this. It’d be funny to see him with a man bun and his usual suits and I smile at the thought.
When I look up, he’s watching me, an answering smile on his lips.
“What’s so funny?” He asks softly.
“Just picturing you with a man bun and your suit.”
“Man bun?” He asks, sounding disgusted with the thought and I laugh out loud at that.
“Your hair is already getting long and with everything shut down, well, it might happen,” I say with a shrug, still smiling.
“I’ll have you cut my hair before I let it get to that,” he says solemnly and I giggle again as I follow him to bed.
He pulls the covers back and I slip in next to him, keeping the usual two feet of space between us
. Archer surprises me though when his hand wraps around my hip and he drags me into the center of the bed. My body lights up at his touch and I bite my lip as a pulse starts between my thighs.
“We’re going to be alright, Haze,” he says against my hair and I nod my head, resting it on his chest.
I’ve never cuddled with Archer but it’s nice and even though I’m still worried about everything that’s happening, my eyes close and I drift off to sleep right away.
Chapter Six
Archer
I shift in my chair, dragging my laptop higher into my lap to cover the bulge. Hazel is in her yoga swing in the center of the room, flipping and stretching in the fabric swing as I watch. I’ve been imagining all of the ways that I could take her in that thing and my dick is definitely affected by my fantasies.
We came up here after breakfast this morning. We had made scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. It had been so domestic, both of us moving around the kitchen together. We ate at the kitchen table like usual but today things had seemed different between us. She seemed more relaxed around me and I couldn’t help but be pleased by that. Looks like my plan is already working.
I keep having flashbacks to last night when she let me hold her while we slept. Normally she stays on her side and I stay on mine and we never touch, but last night, she was plastered up against me, her head resting on my chest. She had shifted in her sleep, or maybe I had moved her, but either way, by morning she was practically laying on top of me. I had woken up this morning with her hair fanned out across my face and a smile on my lips. It had been heaven.
LOVE IN LOCKDOWN: A Charity Anthology Page 38