White Lilies (A Mitchell Sisters Novel) by Samantha Christy Read Free Book Online

you would stop cussing like a rebellious teenager,” he says, irritated.
    “Maybe I’d quit cussing if you’d stop cock-blocking me,” I retort.
    “Oh, so you do want to get laid.” His arms cross over his chest.
    “Ugh!” I kick the huge box with my foot and then wince at the bolt of pain that radiates up my leg. “No! I don’t want to get laid,” I say. “But, I’ll be the one to decide that, not you.”
    Oh, crap. My stomach heaves and I feel round two coming on. No time to run to my bathroom. I barely make it over to the kitchen trash can where I hurl the rest of the green apple I ate for breakfast.
    My hair hangs down into the trash can and before I’m done throwing up, I feel Griffin grab my hair and hold it away from my face. He places a gentle hand on my shoulder.
    How is it that I’m retching into a garbage can and all I can think about is the heat he’s sending into my body through the thin t-shirt I have on?
    I sit on the floor and let my abs recover. Griffin rummages through my cabinets, finding a glass to fill with cold water. He hands it to me along with a wet paper towel to wipe my face.
    I’m horrified that I threw up in front of him.
    On the other hand, maybe the sheer mortification of him seeing me like this will stop the erotic dreams I keep having about him.
    “I’m really sorry.” He holds out his hand to help me up. “Did I cause that by getting you upset?”
    “No.” I glance at my watch. “It was right on schedule.”
    “You have a vomit schedule?” He laughs.
    “Pretty much,” I say. “At least it’s predictable.”
    I pull the trash can liner out and tie it off, then take it to the door. He grabs it from me. “Let me take that.”
    “God, no,” I say, pulling it back. “I’ll do it myself. There’s a trash chute in the hallway.”
    “I think I can handle it, Sky.” He takes the bag from me despite my obvious mortification over it.
    “Lar,” I say
    “Huh?” he asks, opening the door.
    “It’s Skylar, not Sky,” I say. “Nobody calls me Sky.” I’ve always hated it. It’s too personal. Too much like an endearment. A pet name. A way to get close. I don’t do close.
    So, why then, does part of me want to kick my ass for telling him not to use it? Then the other part of me wants to kick that part’s ass for thinking it.
    “Oh. It seems like such an obvious nickname,” he says.
    I leave to go brush my teeth and take a long shower. The less time I spend with him the better. I’m just not sure if it’s because he’s so freaking hot, or because he’s figured out how to infuriate me.
    An hour later, when I emerge from my bedroom, the bike is set up and the packaging, along with Griffin Pearce, is missing from my apartment.
     

chapter five
     
     
     
     
    Mindy watches in fascination as I inhale the greasy cheeseburger and chocolate milkshake she placed in front of me mere seconds ago. Her eyes go wide, presumably in wonderment as to how one small woman can annihilate a meal so large it would give a man pause.
    I don’t care. I’m freaking starving. Now that my morning sickness has waned, I crave meat. Lots of it. I have it all the time. My arteries are starting to beg for mercy.
    Thanks to the stationary bike Erin and Griffin got me, I’m keeping the pounds off despite my newfound obsession with animal flesh, and I’ve only gained two in twelve weeks.
    Twelve weeks is apparently cause for celebration, according to Erin, who has been more like her old self the past few days. She said this is when you can breathe easily and start telling people about the pregnancy. She’s on her way to the restaurant to take me shopping for maternity clothes during our Saturday afternoon lull. Not that I need them. In fact, my skinny jeans are only now beginning to feel snug. I mean, there’s still not much to the little bean. Erin says it’s only two inches long, about the size of a lime. But she has insisted we start shopping now so when the time comes, I’ll