All I Need: Rod & Daisy (All Of Me Duet Book 2) by A.D. Justice (books to read to improve english TXT) 📗

I drop my head into my hands. Rod. Of all the people in this house today, it has to be him.

“Sure, come on in.”

He opens the door and steps across the threshold, expectantly looking around the room before a confused expression crosses his face. “I thought I heard voices in here. Are you alone?”

“Yep, all alone. You didn’t hear any voices coming from this room.” It’s only a little white lie. Nothing like the doozy I have planned in a few weeks when I can’t hide my stomach anymore.

“Hmm, okay. Weird, I would’ve sworn someone else was in here with you. Anyway, I really could use a drink right about now. Do you want to join me?”

“I don’t want anything to drink, but I’ll show you where the liquor cabinet is, and you can help yourself. When my parents say, ‘make yourself at home,’ they mean it literally. You’re welcome to anything they have. That’s just how they are, always have been.”

We descend the stairs to a quiet and empty living room. With my entire family here, it’s the last thing I expected.

“Where is everyone?” He voices the question in my head.

“I’m not sure. My sister will be here tonight, so it’s not like they all left.” I chuckle as I turn the corner and walk into the kitchen. “Ah, they’re all around the pool, enjoying Naples’s warm weather.”

We keep walking, winding around to the den where the bar sits in the far corner. “Everything you could possibly want is in those cabinets. Feel free to rummage through them and don’t worry about taking the last of anything. There’s always a store open around here with more.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to join me? I’d make an excellent bartender.”

He has no idea how badly I’d love to have a few shots right now to take the edge off, but I literally can’t. “No, thanks. But don’t let me stop you.”

After he finds the top shelf bourbon, he pours double shots into two glasses. Peer pressure doesn’t bother me, but questions do. Especially ones I don’t have answers to yet. I’m racking my brain to figure out how many weeks pregnant I am. My method of birth control makes it difficult to keep up with my cycles. There has to be some way I can figure out this little math problem before I lose my mind.

When I was pregnant with Landen, every scent made me nauseous, even the ones I previously loved. Will it be the same this time? Will the sweet aromatic scent of bourbon be a trigger for me? Now I’ll be on edge all the time, waiting for the hammer to fall and send me rushing to the nearest toilet. What a wonderful Christmas present for me.

This will make for a very long visit—constantly waiting for the unknown to present itself, preparing lies to cover my tracks, and keeping this secret from everyone I love.

“Are you sure you don’t want one of these? You seem a little stressed yourself.”

“I’m sure.”

He downs one shot glass after the other, gulping them as quickly as he can. Just as he finishes another, Kevin and Tracy join us.

“I don’t usually drink the strong stuff, but I’m making an exception today.” Rod swirls the amber liquid around in his glass before tossing it back.

If I had the option, I would drink the rest of the bottle and leave him high and dry.

“Pour us one too, bartender.” Kevin slides onto the bar stool on one side of me and Tracy takes the other. “Nine times out of ten, I’d take the bourbon away from you. Today, I think we both need it.”

“Yes, I can definitely use a good, stiff drink.” Tracy nudges me with her elbow. “Where’s yours? Do we need to make you a fruity frozen concoction instead?”

“No, thank you. Even though I know you’re making fun of me. I’m good. I don’t want anything to drink tonight.”

Her smile fades from her face and her soul-penetrating stare takes its place. She’s reading my mind again, like she always does. I never have to tell her my secrets. She usually knows them before I do. Her signature suspicious expression changes before my eyes, becoming one that’s unreadable instead.

Shit. She knows.

Rod pushes her shot glass in front of her, then pours Kevin’s. While he’s busy playing bartender, Tracy mutters under her breath, so only I can hear her.

“Fucking hell, Daisy.”

I nod. My sentiments exactly.

“Fertile Myrtle.”

A fake coughing fit hides my outburst of laughter. After all the times she’s made fun of me for my “Southern-isms,” as she calls them, her timing to use one on me couldn’t be better. Or worse.

“Are you okay, Daisy?” Kevin, ever thoughtful, is genuinely concerned about me. Then I realize all eyes are on me, and I have to change their focus as soon as possible.

“I’m fine. I have a little known talent I don’t tell too many people about. You know how jealous people can get. But I can actually choke on nothing but air. It’s a gift, really. One I should charge people for the sheer pleasure of seeing.”

A round of laughter is what the doctor ordered, because the conversation resumes, no longer focused on my gaffe.

“Daisy, before I forget with everything else happening, I made a couple of calls before we left home. I hope your family doesn’t mind, but I’ve hired a guy to play Santa. He’ll deliver the presents and leave pictures of himself for the kids. Maybe we can pose him with the cookies and milk, leaving presents under the tree, and standing at the fireplace.” Rod steps in front of me, sipping on a three-finger tumbler of bourbon rather than taking more shots. I can’t stop watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows or when he speaks.

It’s mesmerizing, just like his blue eyes and black hair.

Then I realize he’s still waiting for an answer.

“That’s a great idea. I’ll tell them when they