Full Package by Lauren Blakely Read Free Book Online Page A

to sound like you’re insulting me when you say that word .”
    She rolled her eyes. “Ding dong.”
    I shrugged. “Again, not insulted.”
    â€œPickle-jar-opening show-off.”
    I tapped her nose. “Bingo.”
    â€œYou’re insulted now?” She pumped a fist. “Excellent.”
    I frowned. “You’re trying to insult me. I’m so sad,” I said, then I reached into the jar and ate a pickle.
    She patted my belly. “Pregnant?”
    I shuddered. “Horrors.”
    â€œOh, please. Like that’s the worst thing in the world.”
    I gave her a sharp stare. “It kind of would be.”
    I’d rather be firing the trigger on the baby, not carrying it.
    Like I said, I prefer manly tasks.
----
    F our
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    A fter a long day at the hospital, which pretty much describes every day at Mercy, it’s nice to have someone to come home to. And I’m not just saying that because Josie makes absolutely killer air-popped popcorn.
    But she does. This popcorn is delicious, and we munch on it all the way through a binge fest of Ballers , Vice Principals , and Veep on HBO. When we reach the end, I rattle the bowl then pretend to hunt for more, sniffing the inside of it.
    â€œYou’re like a dog,” she says. “The dog who licks his food dish when he finishes just in case there’s a nugget he missed.”
    I drop my face into the red bowl and lick.
    She grabs it from me and sets it on the coffee table. “I’m cutting you off.” She puts her feet on the coffee table. Then she shifts a little and moves them onto me.
    I stare at her feet. Her toenails are painted sapphire blue. Her feet are little and slender. My eyes land on the top of her foot, and they nearly pop out of my head when I spy the bounty. “You have really beautiful veins in your feet.”
    She gives me the biggest side-eye glare in the world. “What?”
    I stretch forward, grab her foot, and hold it up. “Look at this. It’s fucking beautiful,” I say, running my finger along the top. The vein there is thick and blue. “I could draw so much blood from here.”
    She blinks. “Are you a vampire?”
    â€œNo. I’m just an aficionado of all the systems in the body. You could give blood from your fucking foot.” I yank it toward my mouth.
    She squeals, wriggling as I pretend to gnaw on her arch. “You’re crazy.”
    I let go, dropping it across my thigh. “What other glorious life-giving veins are you hiding? Let me see your arms.”
    â€œIs this some kind of doctor porn?”
    I nod, and my eyes are surely sparkling. “You have the cupcake tin and icing smoother. Hell, I saw the way you eyed that rolling pin, too. You had your fun. Let me have mine.”
    â€œFine.” She shrugs off a little flimsy sweater and sticks out her arm.
    I wrap my hand around her wrist and roam my eyes up and down her arm. “This,” I say, tapping a vein in her forearm. “You could save countries with this limb.”
    â€œAre you really serious?”
    â€œYes. This is a world-class vein, Josie. This is like a diamond mine. Man, if I didn’t already think you were the cat’s meow, just seeing your veins would seal the deal. Please tell me you’re a blood donor.”
    She nods. “Of course. Want to take mine some time?”
    I draw a sharp breath and close my eyes. “Don’t get me excited.”
    When I open my eyes, she kicks me in the belly. “You’re the worst.”
    â€œI know.”
    She sits up and asks, “What was the hardest part about being in Africa?”
    â€œBesides missing pizza?”
    She smiles. “Besides pizza, though I do understand that kind of empty ache.”
    â€œEspecially for a cheese pie with mushrooms.”
    â€œYour favorite,” she says.
    Absently, I rub my hand over her arm as I cycle back to the days in the Central African