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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“We’re in here.”

When I walked into the living room, she was sitting in the recliner with him, looking soft and sweet with her hair down and her glasses on. I squinted at the clock on the wall, then did a double take.

“1:15? How is that possible? It should be dark outside.”

Shelby smiled at me. “It’s 1:15 p.m. Your parents came by early this morning and I gave them the milk I pumped and they took him to their house for a while. I slept for six incredible, uninterrupted hours.”

I scratched my head. “I remember getting up with him at three something. Have I been asleep since then?”

“Yep. I knew you needed to get some rest.”

She was always thinking of me, even the little things. Not that sleep was little by any means these days. But in addition to letting me get some uninterrupted rest, she’d had my favorite coffee delivered to her place and upgraded her cable package so I could watch hockey games. I loved that she didn’t even mention those things, because she didn’t seek acknowledgment. She just quietly cared for both me and Charlie.

I went over to her and reached for our son. “Not as much as you need it. I’ve got him now. Go lie down.”

“No, I’m good. Your mom brought over a casserole and I think I’m going to pop it in the oven. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

She passed Charlie to me, his arms shooting into the air with alarm. He was the sweetest baby I’d ever seen, and Shelby and I were both smitten with him.

“Marlowe said she’ll stay with him tomorrow morning so we can attend the funerals,” she said as she walked into the kitchen.

“Okay, good.”

Tomorrow was the first day of the many funerals for those killed in the arena explosions. The fire investigators knew two bombs had been remotely detonated, one in a storage room and another in a boiler room. Whoever had done it either had access to nearly all of the arena, or they’d found a way to bypass not having access. The investigations were going to take a while.

Whatever they discovered, it couldn’t bring back the twenty-two people who had been killed. Five of them were my teammates, fifteen others worked for the Coyotes’ organization, and two were fans buying tickets.

It was lucky more people hadn’t been killed. There were seven people who were still in critical condition, and if they made it, their lives would never be the same. Andie had lost her leg below the knee to amputation, because it couldn’t be saved, and one of the maintenance guys had lost both of his legs.

The arena would have to be torn down when the investigation was finished, and Mila had called the rest of our season off. There was no way any of us could have played. Many of us were recovering from physical injuries, and we all had grief to work through.

“I need to get to Dalton’s funeral early. I’m a pallbearer,” I said. “Can’t remember if I told you that or not.”

“You didn’t.” Shelby approached me from behind and put her arms around me. “Do you need to go home and get a suit this afternoon?”

“I asked Isaac to bring me some stuff; he’s coming by this evening.”

“Oh, good.”

“He wouldn’t be sorry if Marlowe was here when he dropped by.”

I felt her chuckle against my back, her cheek resting against it. “Oh, really? He said that?”

“Should I just call Marlowe and tell her what he said? Save you the trouble of relaying it?”

She gave me a playful smack and went back into the kitchen. “No. Tell me everything.”

Charlie made a little cooing sound, his mouth making an “O” shape and his eyes round like something surprised him.

“Babe, hurry. We need a picture of this.”

Shelby rushed in with her phone, but she wasn’t fast enough to capture a photo.

“I think we might have the cutest baby ever created,” I said, leaning down to talk to Charlie in a soft tone. “You’re even cute when you’re shitting yourself, aren’t you?”

“Speaking of,” Shelby said, walking back into the kitchen, “he probably needs a diaper change.”

“On my way.”

“Wait!” She stuck her head out from around the corner of the kitchen. “What did Isaac say about Marlowe?”

“When he texted me that he’d bring my stuff by, he asked if Marlowe would be here. I said I didn’t know, and that was it?”

“So obviously he’s interested.”

I shrugged. “Sounds like it to me.”

“Okay. I’m putting the casserole in and then taking a shower.”

“10-4.”

I carried Charlie into his nursery and put him on the changing table, taking out a fresh diaper and his wipes. At first, I’d been slow and methodical with diaper changes, because Asher had made the rookie mistake of not putting the diapers on right with Anderson and he’d peed through them in his sleep. I wanted to get it right, because sleep was too precious to lose over poor diaper technique.


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