Three Kings, One Night (Lost Kings MC #2.5) Read Online Free PDF Page A

her clean up the mess she’s made. Except she’s walking backwards from the oven and bumps right into me. I cup my hands over her shoulders to steady her. Out of nowhere it hits me that my hands are touching her bare, warm skin.
    Without even thinking about it, I lean down and press my lips to her neck. Fuck, she smells good. Spices, sugar, and something else unique to Trinity.
    My hand slides into her hair, tugging it free from the elastic. All her soft, golden waves fall down around her shoulders.
    “Wyatt,” she whispers and my eyes pop open at her tone. She’s still holding a tray of cookies in her trembling hands.
    “Set the tray down, Trin.” I growl the words in her ear and almost lose it when she shivers against me.
    She sets the tray down.
    “Are you all done out here?” I whisper in her ear.
    My cheek brushes against hers and she’s burning up. Not surprising since she’s been in front of the ovens for hours, but I’m still concerned. Grabbing her chin, I turn her face toward me. She’s all flushed, but not in the way I’d been hoping for. As I press the back of my hand against her forehead, I also notice how glassy her eyes are.
    “Trin, you okay?”
    She answers in a shaky voice. “I don’t feel so good, Wyatt.”
    My gaze skips to the pitcher of Christmas punch. “How much did you have to drink?”
    “I dunno,” she answers weakly.
    All of a sudden she jerks out of my grasp and rushes to the sink. Hands curled over the lip she leans over and retches.
    “Shit, babe.” I feel so fucking useless, standing there, holding her hair, rubbing my hand in circles over her back. I’d do anything to stop the violent spasms taking hold of her body.
    After an eternity, she stops puking, runs some cold water over her wrists and splashes her face. A miserable groan drifts out of her.
    “You okay, baby?”
    “I don’t know. I’m so sorry.”
    “For what?”
    Instead of answering, she turns away and starts spewing again.
    “Honey, you think I should take you to the hospital?”
    “No,” she groans. “You don’t have to stick around. I’m gross.”
    Like fuck am I gonna leave her alone when she’s this sick.
    “Babe, it’s fine.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Stop sayin’ you’re sorry. I mean, I know we don’t always get along, but puking your guts out just ‘cause I kissed you, seems a little extreme, don’t you think?”
    She lets out a soft chuckle and I can’t even describe how grateful I am to hear it.
    “Can you help me out to the living room?”
    “Don’t you think you should go to bed?”
    “No. I’d rather sleep out on the couch if I’m sick.”
    “Okay. Hold on. Try not to barf on me.”
    As gentle as possible, I swing her up into my arms and carry her down the hall to the living room. I drop her on the couch without jarring her too much.
    Her teeth are clicking together like crazy. “I’m so cold.”
    “Give me a second.” It takes a few minutes, but I locate a bunch of clean blankets and get a fire going in the fireplace. After I get her all bundled up, she snuggles into the blankets and sighs.
    “Better?”
    “Mmmhmm.”
    Just in case, I set a bucket on the floor next to her. Before settling in next to her, I bring her little tree over and set it on the coffee table, so she’ll see it when she wakes up.
     
    ***
    Ugh. I wanna die.
    I can’t remember the last time I felt this awful.
    While I don’t have a high tolerance for alcohol, it’s never made me this sick. I’m guessing I caught the flu or something. I hate being sick. I hate puking.
    I really hate being weak in front of anyone.
    Especially Wrath. I’m burning up. Not only from fever, but from humiliation.
    Slowly I slide my foot down the couch and my toe connects with something solid.
    “Wyatt?”
    He seems to startle awake with a sharp intake of breath.
    “What do you need? You okay?”
    “My tummy hurts.”
    “There’s a bucket if you think you’re gonna be sick.”
    Reaching out from under the