All I Want: Rod & Daisy (All Of Me Duet Book 1)
Page 23
“Wouldn’t that just be terrible? I suppose I’ll have to be more careful. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. The homemade doughnuts will be ready in just a few minutes.”
“That’s it. We’re moving in, Miss Louise.” Landen beams up at her, his smile contagious.
“Don’t think I wouldn’t take you, little boy.” Louise winks at him, obviously falling more in love with him every day.
There are so many questions I want to ask Daisy about Landen, but the time is never right. Today is certainly not the day to pry into her past. She’s barely speaking to me, but at least she acknowledges I’m alive as we gather around the table to eat together. I have to be careful not to upset that delicate balance. One wrong word and I’m dead to her again.
“Mr. Rod, can I ask you a question?” Landen looks up at me, his big blue eyes inquisitive.
“You can call me Rod, and yes, you can ask anything you’d like.”
“If you and my mom got married, would that make Isa my little sister?”
Daisy coughs violently, choking on the sip of iced tea that she had just taken, then stands up to step away from the table.
“Um, no, buddy. Isa is my niece, not my daughter. If your mom and I married, that would make Isa your cousin.”
“Oh. I already have lots of cousins. I want a little sister, though. Mom said I can have one when storks start dropping babies from the sky again. But I’ve never even seen a stork in Atlanta.”
Louise and I stifle a laugh, not wanting Landen to think we’re making fun of him. “Well, maybe a stork will do a fly-by one night and drop a baby off on your doorstep. Stranger things have happened.”
Daisy retakes her seat with a shake of her head. “He doesn’t need more encouragement in that area, Rod. He has wanted a little sister a long time now.”
The idea of someone else granting that wish sets me on edge. Whatever this thing we’ve found is still there, trying to convince me fate is a real being. It’s telling me Daisy and I belong together and drawing me to her with my every breath. Yet I fought that loving feeling with all I had… until I realized I have nothing without her. Now I may have succeeded in pushing her away for good.
After we finish the snacks, Daisy takes Isa and Landen to the playroom to work with them. Landen works on his second-grade homework while Isa works on more drawings and paintings. The creative process helps to get her inner feelings about her mom out on paper so Daisy can help her verbally work through them. That’s the hope and goal of the exercise, anyway.
While they’re busy with their work, I head to my office and start working on a secret project of my own. If I can’t concentrate on the work at my company, at least I can focus my attention on something I enjoy.
After a couple of hours, someone raps lightly on my door before opening it. “Rod? Are you in here?”
“Yeah, come on in. What can I do for you, Daisy?” Anything. Anything at all.
“I wanted to tell you Isabelle just talked to her mom on the phone, and she seems to be coping with everything well, for now anyway. Juliana sounds so much better tonight, and Isa could tell. Your sister is waiting for you to call her, and Isabelle is waiting for her bath. Landen and I are going home now.”
“Thank you for all your help today, bringing Isa home and spending time with her. I don’t know what we’d do without you.” I stand and walk around to the front of my desk. Daisy takes a step backward.
“As long as Jules and Isa need me, I’ll be here for them. They’re each suffering with something that’s unfair to both of them. If I can help carry some of the burden to get them over this hump, then I’m happy to help. That goes for bringing her home after school, too. Just text me to let me know if you need my help again.”
“Thank you. I may have to take you up on that occasionally, but I won’t make a habit of it. Promise.”
“Good night, Rod.”
“Sweet dreams, Daisy.”
A flashback of our time on the island flickers in her mind, but she pushes it aside before closing the door on her way out.
I hope those memories turn the tide in my favor, and away from the date she just had.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Daisy
When the kids and I walk into Rod’s mansion, the sweet aroma of hot scones baking immediately makes my stomach growl and my mouth water.
“It must be time for afternoon tea again, Princess Isa. Smells like Louise is fattening us up for the holidays.” I chuckle and ruffle her hair.
“That means I have to go change. I can’t go to tea dressed in these old rags.” She drops her book bag and takes off toward her bedroom.
“I’m not dressing up for snacks. I’m just going to eat them.” Landen rushes toward the kitchen, leaving me to pick up their belongings out of the hallway.
Rod emerges from his home office with a long face and bloodshot eyes. My heart drops to my feet.
Juliana.
“What is it, Rod? What’s happened?”
“Can you come in here and have a seat for a minute?”
“Of course.”
He closes the door behind me and absently moves around his desk to his chair, covering his mouth with his hand and largely lost in his thoughts. I drop down in the chair across from him, just in time before my knees give out. Is he about to tell me Juliana has taken a turn for the worse? Have we lost her? My mind swirls with all the possibilities and terrible scenarios while I wait for him to gather his thoughts.
“Juliana asked her oncologist to call me to talk about her treatment. We hung up not five minutes before you walked in, so I haven’t had time to digest everything he said yet. I knew this was coming, but the urgency in his voice has increased. She needs a bone marrow transplant because she hasn’t reached remission with the cocktail of drugs and radiation.
“A couple of weeks ago, I went in for a cheek swab to see if I’m a match with her tissue type. The results came back, and I’m not a match. From what he explained, that’s not uncommon. A family member will match only thirty percent of the time. But I’d hoped we’d be in that lucky category.”
“Now what happens?”
“Now, we pray someone on the donor registry will be the best tissue match for her, and that they’ll answer when they’re called. The problem is, it can take anywhere from several weeks to several months to find a match going that route. It’s just really disappointing and I worry about how much more she can take.”
“She’s strong-willed, Rod, and she’s a mother. She will endure whatever she has to not to leave her daughter. She won’t give up.”
“I know you’re right, but she’s all… I’ve spent my entire life protecting her. Taking care of her. Now I feel—” He hesitates for a moment, searching for the word that’s on the tip of his tongue.
“Helpless.” I understand that word all too well.
After an extended silence and soul-touching stare, he nods. “Helpless.” He scrapes his hand over his face and squeezes his eyes shut. “She beat T-Cell Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma when she was five years old. She was so sick, but she was so brave.
“Our father went to pick up her medicine at the pharmacy one night and never came back. He left a note on the table that basically said he couldn’t take the pressure anymore. Every day since then, I’ve strived never to be our father.”
“You took care of her during that time?” He couldn’t have been more than fourteen years old.
“Yeah, I did. I slept in a chair beside her bed every night in case Juliana needed me, and so Mom could rest between her multiple jobs. So to come this far only to lose her now is like adding insult to injury. It also makes me hate our father so much more.”
The empath in me wants nothing more than to gather him in my arms and hug the pain away, but the realist in me forbids it. I’m keeping my distance from him for a reason. Conversations about Juliana and Isa are fine, but any feelings for him are against the rules. My rules. But these glimpses into his past and his psyche are more telling than
anything else I’ve heard from him.
That he only mentioned his mother in passing, but with such reverence, reveals a lot too. She slept while he watched over the little one, so he felt responsible for her well-being too. His heart is bigger than he shows, but it’s guarded inside an impenetrable fortress.
“You know I’ll do whatever I can to help. I’ll be glad to get tested, organize a drive to test as many as possible, whatever she needs.” I almost said, “whatever you need,” but caught myself in the nick of time.
“We’ll take any help we can get. She needs this transplant to beat the cancer. Everything takes time, so all we can do is keep her going until then. Thanks for letting me bend your ear. I needed a few minutes to process all the information the doctor just threw at me before talking to Isa.” He leans back in his chair, his eyes drifting to the window, and he stares off into space.
“Don’t tell her anything yet. You don’t have enough answers and she shouldn’t be left in limbo right now. Juliana will continue treatment until we find a match. Until then, everything stays the same, and that’s all Isa needs to know.”
“You’re right. In a way, I wish I didn’t know either. Thank you, Daisy. For everything.” The look he’s giving me is far too intimate, too grateful for my help and my presence during this grueling time.
“No need to thank me. I’ll look into the registry when I get home tonight. We should probably go to the kitchen and help Louise with the kids now.” I stand and move to the door before my emotions get the better of me.
He’s hurting and I want to comfort him, but I have to keep my distance to protect myself. Intense situations like this one create too much confusion and blur lines I don’t intend to cross. One touch, regardless of the innocent intent, and I’d lose all composure. I knew he’d break my heart the moment I met him. My mind tried to warn me, tried to reason with me, but I wouldn’t listen, and I’ve paid the price for my stubbornness.
With my back to him, I twist the doorknob and release a relieved sigh because freedom is only a step away. Then his hand flattens against the door and his chest pushes against my back.
“Wait.” His lips graze the shell of my ear. His deep voice sends a wave of goosebumps down my arm. “I don’t know how to make up for what I did in Punta Cana. If there was any one thing, hell, even a hundred things, that would let me take it all back, I’d gladly do it.
“Before you go, I want you to know something. The reason I left the island without saying anything is because I had a voicemail about Juliana’s cancer. When I heard it, I was incapable of doing anything except getting back home to her. I helped raise her, Daisy. She’s almost as much my daughter as she is my little sister, and she’s all I have left of my family. If my rushed departure hurt you in any way, I sincerely apologize. I simply couldn’t think straight.”
“Thank you for telling me that, Rod. Don’t think you have to apologize for that, though. It’s completely understandable, and anyone in the world would’ve done the same for their siblings. Had I gotten that message about my sister, I would’ve been on the next plane home, too. Now that I’ve gotten to know Juliana, I would’ve come home for her, too. She loves you as much as you love her. I don’t know if you realize this, but you’re all she has, too.”
He rests his forehead to my shoulder, and I feel his body tremble against mine. I squeeze my eyes shut, hold on to the doorknob with all my might, and fight the urge to face him. Then I feel dampness soak through my blouse to my skin and his shoulders begin to shake, and I’m a goner. When I spin around to face him, I catch a glimpse of tears streaming down his face before his arms encircle me, drawing me against him in an embrace so tight I barely can breathe.
My arms instinctively wrap around his neck and I stroke the back of his hair with my fingers, while whispering soothing reassurances. “Everything will be okay, Rod. We won’t stop until we’ve helped her beat this once and for all. You won’t lose her, and I won’t leave you to face this alone. I’ll be right here every step of the way.”
We drop to the floor in a heap, his weight pulling me down with him, but my body intuitively reacts as if we’re one. While holding on to me, he rearranges us so I’m straddling his lap, his arms are around my waist, and he buries his face in the crook of my neck.
If not for the tears I feel falling onto my skin, I’d dash out of this room in search of safety from the desire screaming inside my mind. But his intense agony is palpable, and as a fellow human being who shares his fears, I can’t leave him to suffer through this alone. Though my heart is heavy remembering how we parted, I push that aside and focus on today.
Then I feel his lips on my neck, softly caressing the sensitive skin there and setting my body on fire. His tight grip around me loosens, and he splays his hands on my back, the heat of his hands searing my skin through the thin material of my shirt. He slides them up my back and around to my face, never breaking contact. He leaves kisses along my jawline as he works his way toward my mouth.
I’m holding my breath, as if that’ll somehow shield me from the need building inside me.
He stops just short of his lips reaching mine before he looks up at me. Our eyes lock, and I feel as if I’m staring into a mirror. We’re a breath’s width away from spontaneously combusting into flames. Desire shines in his blue eyes, along with so many other emotions swirling just beneath the surface.
In his eyes, I see regret for the past, hope for the present, and uncertainty for the future. We have an inability to mutter those three little words, an invisible wall that prevents us from growing too close, and years of creating masks and layering ice around our hearts.
The longing to tear it all down is there. But the need to keep it all intact, to preserve our own sanity, is in control.
All these emotions stretch between us, contained in a single heartbeat.
“I need you, Daisy.” His voice is strained, with misery, with heartbreak, and with a deep vulnerability he’s completely uncomfortable showing. “I need to feel your warmth, your touch, your love.”
“Rod” I don’t know what else I meant to say. All I can do is utter his name in response.
I’m not a pushover. I’m not weak. I’m not prone to falling for promises in the dark that’ll never be fulfilled in the light.
But something about what this man makes me feel has been so different from anyone else I’ve ever met. Is it fate? Or destiny? Is the universe pushing us together?
“I’ve fucking missed you so much. You have no idea how much.”
“Oh, God…” Those two words are all I can muster.
Our mouths clash with a heated fervor, unable to get enough of the other. His hands slide under my dress and push my panties to the side. He pushes his finger deep inside me, and I suppress the moan aching to escape. He increases his tempo and my hips rock, keeping time and searching for more. With he adds a second finger, I clamp my teeth down on his shoulder and dig my fingers into his skin, riding the wave of pleasure until it subsides. My hands move to his zipper, desperate to free him.
With his pants out of the way, I position him at my entrance. He holds my face in his hands as I sink lower, taking as much of him inside me as I can. My hips rock front to back, side to side, and grinding in circles, searching for that sweet release. As I move up and down, we sync our movements. He thrusts upward as I descend on him once more. Our sensual frolic turns frantic instantly, and he flips us so that’s he’s on top and driving relentlessly into me. When we reach the edge, he covers my mouth with his and swallows the cries that would’ve reverberated throughout his enormous mansion.
He collapses on top of me, his chest heaving for breath from the exertion. He’s still inside me, still pulsating after his release, and I have no clue what to expect next. When he eventually pushes up, he avoids making eye contact when he suggests we quietly move to separate bathrooms to clean up before joining the others.
Regret instantly fills me as I realize what just happened. Or, I should say why it happe
ned.
His needing me, missing me, wanting to feel me again, none of it had anything to do with me. He’s using sex to feel some kind of connection to another person outside of his family. The way he keeps everyone else in his life at arm’s length is a form of self-preservation. But when they remain disconnected, it only reaffirms the notion he’s not lovable.
He just used me as his latest attempt to self-medicate and escape from his world for a short time. I let him, still trying to see the best in him.
When I emerge from the hall bathroom, I hear his laughter from the kitchen as he teases the kids. I join them, standing back to observe before announcing my presence. He glances over his shoulder when the children notice me, but he doesn’t say anything.
He acts as if nothing just happened between us, as if what happened meant nothing to him. That’s the hard truth I have to come to terms with sooner rather than later. He’s emotionally incapable of having an adult relationship, overcoming his commitment fears, or allowing his true feelings to flow freely. He’ll suppress them, he’ll deny them, and he’ll avoid them at all costs.
Any time I’m around him, I have to do the same and stop being a glutton for punishment.
When they finish eating, I take the kids to the playroom to get away from Rod and to refocus my attention on the time and attention they need from me. After about an hour, the door opens, and Rod slips inside with a sheepish grin on his handsome face. He sits in a child-size chair watching the three of us at work, then he eventually moves to sit on the floor beside me.
While Landen and Isa are busy talking and finger painting, Rod leans over toward me. “Are you mad at me?”
“Nope.”
“In this case, that definitely means yes. I’m sorry, Daisy. I just keep screwing up, don’t I?”
I cut my eyes to meet his. “What exactly are you sorry for this time, Rod?”
“I’m sorry for not knowing how to deal with what I feel for you. I’m sorry for not knowing if I should announce to the world, much less to the kids, that you’re my girlfriend even if you don’t see me as your boyfriend.