The Donor (Colorado Coyotes #1) Read Online Brenda Rothert

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Colorado Coyotes Series by Brenda Rothert
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Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
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Other teammates started showing up to eat at the restaurant. I finished off one plate before filling another one, then checked my phone while I waited for everyone else to finish.

No good morning, great game last night text from Shelby, of course. Anytime I’d started any sort of communication with other women, they’d immediately started the good morning and good night texts. I hated them. If someone was in a relationship, that was one thing, but when you’d just hooked up once or not at all? Too much.

It would’ve been nice to get one occasionally from Shelby, though. She literally didn’t want me at all, and it frustrated and amused me in equal measure.

Maybe not so equal. I was becoming more frustrated than amused, especially since my only sexual partner in the past two months was my hand.

I texted her instead.

Me: Hey, good morning from Chi town. How are you feeling?

She’d been experiencing morning sickness, and sometimes it stretched into the rest of the day, too.

Shelby: Like crap. I’m working in bed with a bucket beside me.

Me: Are you keeping any food down?

Shelby: Not much. My doctor said to come in if I can’t keep water down today.

Me: Are you able to drive?

Shelby: I could if I had to. Or Marlowe could take me.

Me: I’m flying to Vegas soon. I’ll check on you after I land.

Shelby: You don’t have to. I’ll go to the doctor if I get worse.

Me: I’ll check on you.

Shelby: Okay. Thanks.

Me: Hope you feel better.

I googled ideas to help with morning sickness and saw that ginger was high on a couple of lists. Surely even Shelby, who was paranoid about everything that went into her body while she was pregnant, would eat ginger.

There was a great local bakery in Denver that my mom ordered from all the time. I left my table in the restaurant and found an empty hallway where I could get some privacy and dialed the number I’d found online.

“Judy’s, how can I help you?” the voice on the other end of the line said.

“Hey, this is Beau Fox. My mom, Claire Fox, is a regular customer.”

“Oh, of course. We just took her order for Christmas. What can I do for you?”

“I need to order some ginger cookies to be delivered to someone in Denver.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Ginger cookies?”

“Right.”

“We could do gingerbread men, how about that?”

“As long as they have ginger.”

“They do.”

I gave her Shelby’s address and my credit card number. Hopefully the cookies would help. They were the least I could do from several states away.

“Hey, are you feeling better?” I asked Shelby several hours later.

We’d gone from the airport to the Las Vegas arena for our pregame skate, and I was calling her from the visitors’ locker room.

“Maybe a tiny bit,” she said. “But I’m so tired, I could fall asleep right this second.”

“Are you keeping water down?”

“Yes,” she said, sounding amused. “I’ve got you, Marlowe, and a nurse from my doctor’s office asking me how often I’m throwing up.”

“Try Gatorade,” I suggested.

“I’ve got one on my nightstand now. Marlowe brought over a bunch earlier this afternoon.”

“Okay, good.”

“How’s Vegas?”

“Decent weather,” I said. “Other than that, it’s same old, same old.”

“But more strippers, right? More than Denver, at least.”

“Hmm, I guess so. Not really my thing, though.”

She sighed softly. “Sorry, I’m grouchy.”

“You’re entitled.” I suddenly remembered why I’d called instead of texting. “Hey, I want you to come to my parents’ house for Christmas with me.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before she said, “I don’t think I can, Beau.”

“Of course you can. I don’t think I’m even invited unless you’re with me. Just about every member of my family has called or texted in the last week telling me to bring you. Especially my dad. He can’t wait to talk shop again.”

There was a smile in her tone. “That’s so nice of them. But I’m so sick and I’d either look like a jerk who came to a gathering while I’m sick or a pregnant woman, and I don’t like either option.”

Shit. I’d forgotten how sick she was. She had a point, but it didn’t feel right for her to be alone on Christmas.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me,” she said, seeming to read my mind. “I’m taking Christmas Eve and Christmas off and honestly, I’m planning to lie on my couch, catch up on shows, and sleep.”

“You could wear a mask,” I said. “My family really wants you to come.”

That was true, but what I really meant and couldn’t bring myself to say was I really want you to come.

“If I wasn’t sick and completely exhausted, I’d be there. I love your family. Maybe I’ll get lucky and be better by next week. But if not, I need to stay home.”


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