Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Tripp picked up the bucket with the recently delivered rose bush, and they all headed down to the yard where the other roses had been placed throughout the years. Finding the perfect spot for the newest one, Tripp rolled up his shirt sleeves and with the help of his brothers and Whitney, they planted the shrub.
Then, they all stood back as his mother said a few sentimental words about her daughter. Tripp added a few of his own, because despite the passing of twenty years, this annual memorial was when he felt the loss of his twin the most and missed what could have been. Back when she first died, this day had been marked with a lot of tears and sadness, but now there were smiles and only the best memories of how Whitney had lived her life so fully in the short time she’d been on earth.
“Everybody hungry for dinner?” his mother asked after they were done.
His brothers were the most vocal about food, and as they walked back toward the house, Tripp slowly followed behind the group with Skye by his side.
She slid her hand into his, shocking him with that display of affection, even though no one was looking their way. He glanced at her, and she treated him to a soft, sweet smile that reminded him of the kiss she’d given him that morning that had felt like a definitive shift between them. Like now, with her kind, caring gaze, and that completely unguarded expression on her face.
“That was beautiful,” she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before releasing her hold on him, the brief moment severed. “I wish I’d had the chance to meet your sister.”
“Me, too,” he murmured, knowing that Whitney would have loved Skye as much as he did.
Back at the house, they sat at the dining table as his mother pulled items out of the oven that she’d left there warming and brought them to the table. First, a savory pot roast, followed by glazed carrots, then rosemary roasted potatoes. As each item was set down and the delicious scents of dinner mingled, Tripp noticed Skye shifting in her seat, becoming increasingly uncomfortable beside him.
He glanced at her, recognizing those signs of nausea as she gave him a wan smile, her hand pressed to her stomach as the entrees started circling around the table and everyone started enthusiastically dishing up their plates. When Georgia passed Skye the bowl of glazed carrots, she managed to place a serving on her plate, but as soon as the dish was out of her grasp and on to the next person, her hand fluttered up to her throat and a panicked look flashed across her features.
Concern surged through him as she paled significantly. “Skye—”
“Oh, my God,” she whispered in a horrified tone as she quickly scooted out her chair. “Excuse me,” she uttered, and bolted down the hall toward the bathroom.
The room went still and quiet, all eyes shifting from Skye’s retreating back, to Tripp—sending him varying degrees of concern and shock at her abrupt exit. Clearly, nobody had noticed her escalating symptoms. Well, no one but Chloe, anyway, who had a wise, knowing look in her gaze.
Shit.
“Is she okay?” his mother asked, her worry evident in the tone of her voice.
Tripp placed his napkin on the table next to his plate. “I think I need to go find out.”
“No, you stay,” Chloe ordered, not giving him a choice as she immediately stood up before he could. “I’ll go and see how she’s doing.”
Stunned by his sister-in-law’s insistence, Tripp glanced at Beck, expecting his brother to say something to stop Chloe, or to tell her to let Tripp handle the situation, but he didn’t say a word as his wife retrieved a bottle of water from the kitchen then followed in Skye’s direction.
“Seriously?” Tripp said to his brother, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
Beck shrugged and dug into his pot roast. “I’ve learned that when Chloe is that adamant, I don’t argue or interfere. Trust me, you shouldn’t either.”
Tripp found it difficult not to go to Skye’s rescue, but he begrudgingly deferred to Beck and didn’t interfere because maybe what Skye needed right now was a woman’s support instead of a man’s ineptitude when it came to understanding what she was going through.
Because there was one thing Tripp was fairly certain of . . . Chloe had already figured out what the rest of his family hadn’t. That Skye was pregnant.
Chapter Fourteen
Skye thankfully made it to the bathroom just in time to empty the meager contents of her stomach into the toilet. Of all times to finally get sick, she couldn’t believe it had been in front of Tripp’s family. So damn embarrassing.
She winced as she stood up and made her way to the sink to rinse her mouth and splash some cool water on her cheeks. Now that there was nothing left in her stomach, the worst of the nausea had passed, but she was too mortified to return to the dining room and try to explain what had just happened without revealing she was pregnant. The last thing she wanted anyone to think was that she had the flu or had been repulsed by Audrey’s cooking. Yeah, so not cool.